Movies of 2011
Okay here’s part two of my last post.
Movies of 2011:
Country Strong
Movies 2010
I owe all my blog readers a huge apology. I never wrote my post of Movies Watched in 2010. Or 2011. I’m the worst. Don’t worry though. I went back through on IMDB and compiled my list.
Here’s 2010:
Calvin right now…
I sort of regret not doing the monthly updates on my boy after he turned one, but honestly, I ran out of number stickers and the whole thing was kind of a hassle. However, I know you all are dying for some updates on Calvin so here you go:
- The boy’s favorite word is cracker. And it’s always a question: Cracker? Cracker? It basically is his word for all food.
- He also loves to eat any and all carb items. Bread, pancakes, waffles, and yes crackers. Put a vegetable on his plate and he takes it like an insult.
- Other words include: Mama, Dada, Ball, Gigi, Tree, Papa. He makes the K sound when he’s thirsty (I guess for milk) and the S sound when he wants to play with toys.
- He knows where his belly, ears, hair and nose are.
- He raises his arms in the air when you say, “Touchdown, Calvin!”
- When you ask for a hug, he puts his head on your shoulder.
- When you ask for a kiss, he goes right for your mouth, with his wiiiiiide open.
- When we say, “Where’s the baby?” he covers his eyes.
- He loves wrestling with Daddy on the bed.
- He could not care less about our Christmas tree, much to my relief.
- When we tell him to go night night, he lays down wherever he is.
- He has an adorable fake laugh and a real life that sounds like ssss-sss-sssssssss.
He’s still not walking, which is a bit of a concern for us. He’ll be 16 months old in a few weeks. We had him evaluated for Sooner Start services and he didn’t qualify which is good because it means there wasn’t enough of a delay. They said bring him back if he still isn’t walking by 18 months. He pulls up on things and stands independently and will take maybe one step before plopping down on his bottom to crawl.
I’m sure I am forgetting some of his tricks, but he is changing so fast these days! Of course his best trick is he is the most amazing sleeper. He reaches for his bed when he gets tired. Goes down around 6 and sleeps until 7 the next morning.
Can’t wait to see what the next few months bring, hopefully his first steps!
something strange is happening to me…
Ever since I became a mother, I watch movies and tv differently. Last night, Nick and I saw 50/50 which is about a 27 year old man who gets a rare spinal cancer and then is given a 50% chance of survival. Before Calvin came along, I might have watched this movie and wondered what would happen if Nick got cancer at a young age and how would I handle it?
Now, all I could do was view the main character as my son. And of course, in this movie there is an over-bearing mother played (wonderfully) by Anjelica Huston and I found myself completely relating to her. She complains that it’s too cold in the hospital and when the nurse says she can’t change the temperature, she stares her down with steely eyes and says, “My son has cancer.”
When he reveals to her that he is sick, the first words out of her mouth are, “I’m moving in with you.” It’s supposed to be ridiculous since he is completely self-sufficient and she has her Alzheimer-ridden husband to take care of, but I found myself nodding and thinking, “Makes sense to me.”
My favorite line of hers came at the end of the film, when she meets her son’s therapist and before the therapist can say anything, she says, “I don’t know what he told you, but I only smother him because I love him so much.”
The movie had real human connection which is almost required in a film for me to see it, these days. I had to stop myself from weeping openly when he goes into surgery and breaks down and lets himself be comforted by his mother for the first time.
We talked about the movie the entire drive home (another sign that it was really good) and Nick said he felt the same way as me. Watching Adam get wheeled into surgery took us right back to the hospital where we watched our boy get wheeled into the elevator for his surgery and I realized again, how much that experience is still a part of our story as a family. I thought with time, we would forget some of the details and sheer gratitude would take over, but it doesn’t really. Of course I am thankful and remind myself nearly every day how lucky I am to have my healthy boy. But I also hope I never forget those early days, no matter how painful because that is where his story began and in a way where mine began also.
TV Junkie
That’s me.
I love TV so much. Especially after having Cal. I used to be a movie lover. I’d go see a movie every weekend, with or without Nick. And at home, I’d watch my favorites over and over. But TV has become my mistress. I can squeeze in a 22 minute episode of the Office while I’m getting ready in the morning. And in the evenings, I have too much to do to watch a whole movie with Nick so usually we catch up on one of our hour-long shows and then he starts a documentary (his mistress) and I start doing something else. I started getting a little overwhelmed with remembering to record all our favorite shows so I decided to make a list to make sure I got them all.
Yikes.
I have to be honest with y’all so here it goes. These are listed in order of when they air during the week.
Sunday:
Breaking Bad (only 2 episodes left!)
Workaholics (a new show we discovered by actually flipping through the channels. It’s on Comedy Central and so, so hilarious)
Homeland (it’s new and I haven’t seen it yet, but it’s starring Capt Winters from Band of Brothers. Love him.)
Monday:
How I Met Your Mother (still need to catch up from last season)
Gossip Girl (no judgment)
Weeds (just finished. OMG, that show is crazy)
Tuesday:
Glee
Raising Hope
The New Girl (I don’t believe Zooey D. as a total nerd, but the show is still charming)
The Biggest Loser
Wednesday:
Up All Night ( Love Maya Rudolph as the faux Oprah.)
The Middle
Modern Family
Thursday:
Community
Parks and Recreation (becoming my all-time favorite show)
The Office
30 Rock (Is that coming back??)
Grey’s Anatomy (Now that sucky Kathryn Heigl is gone, the show is amazing again)
Project Runway
It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia
The League (coming back Oct. 6)
Let’s add it up. It’s about 15 hours of TV a week. Geez Louise. I feel like I should also list shows which I have NEVER EVEN SEEN ONE MINUTE OF to absolve myself a little from this embarassment:
Keeping Up With the Kardashian’s
Jersey Shore
Any of the Real Housewives
Two and a Half Men
Extreme Couponing
Survivor
American Idol
Dancing With the Stars
Any CSI or Criminal Minds or whatever else is out there.
If you ever want to hang out with me, please try to avoid planning anything on Thursdays. As you can see, I’m pretty much booked.
Ode to Breastfeeding
Just skip ahead if you are squeamish about breastfeeding or don’t feel like reading a mushy, reflective post on nursing in general.
So, we’re done. We made it to a year and a few days, which I guess was my original goal. I always thought Calvin would be the one to stop breastfeeding. Some of my friends told me that their babies pretty much decided they were done with the boob. But not my son. And some other babies will tug at their mom’s shirts when they wanted to nurse. Calvin instead would dive bomb his face into my chest and essentially do the “motor boat” until I gave in. I would stand him up on my lap and he would instantly buckle in the knees and fold himself in half until he was eye level with my chest. It was hilarious. And mildly irritating.
Honestly, I do feel like we are cutting our breastfeeding journey too short, but I cannot and I mean CAN NOT sit attached to that pump anymore. So I’m at an impasse, I guess. I want to keep nursing him before bed, but I don’t want to have to be the only one to put him down. And what if I want to spend a weekend away from him? It doesn’t seem fair to him to nurse just sometimes, when I feel like it.
But I truly will mourn the end of that part of our relationship.
I always knew I would breastfeed, or at least attempt it. Before Calvin was born, I dreamed of that moment: the first time he latched on, hopefully moments after his birth. Obviously, things didn’t work out that way and our start to breastfeeding was the LONG way around. After Calvin’s cool cap came off, they started giving him small amounts of my milk through a feeding tube. Then the speech therapist came and did an exam and decided Calvin could try a bottle. I was a little scared of this. Eating from the breast is harder than from a bottle and I’d read babies can get used to a bottle and too impatient with the breast. However, it made me feel good that at least he was getting a taste of my milk.
The doctors really wanted to limit the amount of milk he got in a bottle since he was so new at it. Sometimes the nurses would slip a little extra in there and he always finished it, most of the time in under a minute.
Around our 9th day in the hospital, we got the best news since Calvin was born. “Turn him loose!” I could nurse him as much as he wanted! The nurse settled us into a chair and I realized I had no idea how to do this. We just sort of shoved Calvin up to my breast and waited.
And he tentitavely latched on. I loved, LOVED it. I loved having him so close to me. I loved that I it brought him instant relief. His big eyes could NOT stay open when he nursed. (He was also sedated, so he was always sleepy.)
We actually had to wake him up every three hours to nurse (he was still getting lipids through an IV so I don’t know if he was ever actually hungry when he nursed). And about an hour after I nursed, I pumped just to keep my supply up. I might have overdid it, because for a few months I was leaking milk all the time. But I would have much rather had a freezer full of milk than barely getting by. And boy did I. By the time Calvin was a month old, I had over 250 ounces of milk in my freezer.
Nursing was my only trick that made Calvin stop crying 100% of the time. He loved it. I stressed about going back to work only because of how it would affect milk production. I shouldn’t have worried. At that time Calvin was drink 18 ounces of milk during the time we were apart. The first day at work, I pumped 12 ounces during my first session in the morning. I had more than enough by the end of the day.
I feel like I could write an entirely separate post about pumping (and how much I hate it), but I won’t. I will say that I am proud of the commitment it took for me to do it every single day. Sometimes in the car driving home. Sometimes barely getting enough for the next day. It was really stressful at times, because Calvin seemed to go through huge growth spurts and eventually we cleaned out our freezer stash. But I didn’t want to throw any out, no matter what. So I wrote the date on every bag and made sure it was used within 6 months.
Apart from some sleepless nights, when Calvin wasn’t feeling well and wanted to nurse all night, it never really hurt. I was lucky to never have mastitis or thrush or any dry cracked nipples or anything like that.
I remember when we brought Calvin home and he was of course asleep (still trying to wake up from those sedatives…what I wouldn’t give for some of those now.) When he finally stirred and starting opening and closing his mouth, we figured he was hungry so we got in position and he ate and ate.
And I remember feeling panicked. “Oh my god. I’m gonna have to do this every three hours for the REST OF MY LIFE.” I felt trapped. I felt like I could never leave the house again.
But eventually, we got the hang of it and I nursed in public like a pro. I wasn’t all gung-ho, whip my shirt off in front of everyone (I admire those who are like that), but I used my nursing cover all the time. It was a life-saver.
A few times during those first few weeks, I looked up at Nick and said, “I’m in love with this. I want to do this until he is 10 years old.” And I sincerely meant it.
It was hard to give up the nursing. Especially since Calvin was exclusively breastfed until he was almost 10 months old. We tried table food and rice cereal when he was about 6 months old but he had zero interest. It was frustrating, but a little flattering that he preferred my goods only.
I really do miss the closeness and the sly smiles he would give me while feeding. I loved when he was able to recognize what it meant when I pulled my shirt up and he would start kicking and smiling excitedly. His little hand would slap my breast in a rhythm and when I would start laughing he would really start smacking me, which was even funnier.
I’m sure I’m glossing over some of the not-so-beautiful memories of nursing. The resentment and fatigue. The feeling of wanting my body to just be mine again. And I do feel some relief that it is over and he is growing up so strong and healthy.
But I hope I’ll never forget how much those early morning and late night snuggles with Calvin meant to both of us and how they felt. I hope Nick will let me have 5 more babies just so I can nurse them all. I’m kidding. Sort of.
remembering…
I did a really stupid thing yesterday.
I googled “HIE Birth Stories”. HIE stands for Hypoxic-Ischemic Encephalopathy and that was technically Calvin’s diagnosis at birth. Brain injury due to lack of oxygen at birth. I wondered if any other people had similar stories to us. There were more stories than I expected. A lot of the mothers noticed a lack of fetal movement which led to emergency c-sections. And so far, all of the stories include the baby having to be transferred to a special children’s hospital away from their families to get the cool cap treatment. Those poor mothers were miles away, sometimes 200 miles from their babies and had to recover from surgery before being able to travel.
Over the past year, I’ve felt so much regret about not just signing up for a c-section after that ultrasound. If I had just done that, we wouldn’t have gone through any of the anguish after Calvin was born.
But…if I hadn’t wanted a natural birth so badly, I may not have chosen the midwifery program at OU. I might have had the baby at Baptist or St. Anthony’s which is closer to my home. And because I chose OU, Calvin received his cool cap within an hour of his birth. A lot of kids barely make the 6 hour cutoff to get the treatment, because they are airlifted from all over the country.
I just had to travel 3 floors up to be near my boy, instead of 200 miles. LeAnna also told me that Calvin was wedged so tightly in my uterus that it took 3 vacuum assists just to get him out so it’s likely they would have trouble even if I signed up for the section right away.
The regret eases more each day. Nick reminds me often that we were just unlucky. HIE affects 1 in 1000 births and for some reason we were one of them.
We prayed over and over again in the hospital that Calvin would be our miracle baby. And he is. And it makes me feel good to read stories about other babies who were miracles. One was taken off the ventilator to let “nature take its course” and expected to die within the night. He is a perfectly healthy 8 month old today. Many of the stories include disabilities that the children have had to live with: CP, epilepsy, physical therapy every week for their entire lives and I teared up with gratitude that we have been so lucky.
Month Twelve
August 21, 2010
August 21, 2011
A few days before you were born, the doctors wanted to do an ultrasound to make sure you were doing okay. My fluid levels were great and you were moving around as best you could even though you were quickly running out of space. The doctor came in to talk to us and said that you were measuring BIG and they estimated you were TWELVE pounds. He urged me to consider get induced or even just going for the c-section. It was pretty discouraging.
That night your dad was determined that we were NOT going to be induced or have a c-section. We were gonna kickstart labor any way we could. I had spicy chicken nuggets from Wendy’s, we took two long walks, and I even drank castor oil which kept me in the bathroom all night, but it worked! At 6am, I started having regular contractions and they kept on for several hours. They weren’t super painful but having a heating pad on my back really helped.
We contacted our families that contractions were getting closer and closer and they should, “be on alert.” Even though we planned to stay at home as long as we could, we met criteria for heading to the hospital pretty quickly and after a call to the nurses, they told us to come on in.
In the triage room, the confirmed that I was still 3cm dilated (which I had been earlier in the week) but they were going to let me walk around for an hour and then they would check me again. We walked around the halls but it was pretty hard to feel comfortable with OTHER people walking around. I still had contractions but they didn’t seem as productive as the ones earlier in the morning.
While we were walking around, we bumped into our midwife LeAnna. She told us that my blood pressure was a little high and so she was going to make sure they admitted me. “It’s time to have that baby.” She knew we were dying to meet you. We walked and walked and walked. You kept squirming and kicking and nudging me. They checked me again after an hour and I was about a 4. Progress! LeAnna came by and told us they were going to admit us as soon as the nurses got back from lunch. So we walked some more.
My mom was the first to arrive (after driving from OKC to Dallas the night before. Basically, she drove home on Thursday night and came back after breakfast. Sorry Mom.) Pop Pop, Uncle Tyler and Aunt Sandy were on their way too. Everyone was so excited to meet you!
We checked into our birthing room and the contractions picked back up. Family members came in and out and nurses hooked me up to a monitor to monitor your heartbeat which was nice and strong. Dr. Smith was the resident on call and he came in and told us that he heard there were some concerns about how big you were and told us that he would be keeping a close eye on me in case we needed to get you out in a hurry. I started to feel alot of pressure from all the doctors to just sign up for a c-section. It was really upsetting to us and the overall feeling in the room was pretty defeated.
About an hour later, LeAnna brought in a nurse named Sandy who had been in Labor and Delivery for 20 years. She told us she had a knack for guessing a baby’s weight and she felt my belly and said, “He’s not twelve pounds, he’s only ten. Break her water and get it going.” We loved her. The contractions picked up again and felt even stronger, but not overwhelmingly painful. My mom and your Daddy’s mom and Aunt Katherine hung out in our room for an hour or two and it was my favorite part of the day. Katherine timed my contractions for me and everyone quieted down when they started and encouraged me when they ended.
LeAnna and Sandy came in a few hours later to break my water and it was nice and clear. I remember feeling so strange having liquid pour out of me for at least 40 minutes. LeAnna said I was at about 5cm by this point.
I kept walking around the room feeling pretty good and then I got that first contraction without that cushion of fluid. And it hurt. A lot. I figured out later that you had turned around and your spine was against my spine causes back labor which is really, really painful. I couldn’t get comfortable. I got into the tub and got right out. I started to fear my contractions and couldn’t catch my breath during them. I asked the nurse about pain management but unfortunately, our nice nurse from earlier was gone and now we got saddled with one who we never really meshed with. She pretty much ignored my question until LeAnna came in and suggested I get an epidural because my blood pressure was creeping up. I gratefully agreed. I asked the nurse when the anesthesiologist would be coming in. She said she didn’t know. I asked again (probably yelled at this point) if it was 5 minutes or an hour. She said he was in a c-section and didn’t know. She couldn’t have been less helpful.
Finally, FINALLY, the doctor came in and they got me all set up for the epidural. Nick had to sit across the room and watch. It was pretty tough, because throughout the whole procedure I was still having really painful contractions and the mean nurse kept scolding me for being in the wrong position but also didn’t tell me how to get in the RIGHT position. I did not like her, can you tell?
Okay, so they finish up the epidural, my legs gave a big twitch at the end which he told me always happens and it starts to kick in. And it’s heavenly. I can still move my legs, which is great. My pulse and blood pressure go back to normal. By this time I’m dilated to a 7 and they decide to put me on Pitocin because my contractions aren’t productive enough, which means they aren’t causing me to dilate fast enough.
So there I was, hooked up to monitors, with IV in my arm, on Pitocin with an epidural. So much for my natural birth. And to top it off, it was about midnight so I had kept everyone waiting for you for about 12 hours and counting. LeAnna insisted that I get some rest, now that I wasn’t in pain anymore. She made Nick rest too, on the couch across the room. I drifted in and out and started getting really tired, emotionally. My mom came in and told Nick that his parents were out in the waiting room and asking for an update. At my last check I was at 8 centimeters so I was making (slow) progress.
When he left, my mom asked me how it was going and I basically burst into tears. I told her that I felt like I failed on my birth plan and that everyone was getting impatient and Nick was disappointed in me for getting an epidural (obviously NONE of that was true. I was just wore clean out). She reassured me that everyone was proud of me for all the hard work I had done. Later I found out LeAnna confided to her that she was worried that things just weren’t “lining up right” and she would feel better if I just consented to a c-section.
While mom and I were talking, and Nick was still in the lobby, LeAnna came in to check me again. I still had feeling in my legs and was trying to keep adjusting on the bed to make sure I didn’t go numb anywhere. My mom was standing off to the side, the not-so-nice nurse was on the other side.
And this is the moment when everything in my life changed. (I’m crying while writing this. A year later and it still moves me to tears.)
LeAnna tilted her head to the side and closed her eyes. She said something along the lines of, “Okay, Benay. A little loop of cord has slipped out of your cervix and his head is now resting on it so we need to get you into surgery right away.” I must have opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off and said, “The decision has been made.” She said it so calmly that at that moment, I didn’t feel the sense of emergency that started to unfold.
Honestly, at that instant, all I felt was relief. I was disappointed to have a c-section but I knew from TV and movies that they could get the baby out in just a few minutes and that meant I would be meeting my boy soon.
My mom ran out to get Nick. Meanwhile, LeAnna had me flip onto my hands and knees to prevent even more pressure being put on the cord, which would limit even more oxygen and blood to the baby. That was pretty humiliating, since I wasn’t wearing anything under my gown, but luckily at that moment Nick came in and LeAnna had him flick a sheet over me. A nurse gave him some scrubs and told him to change and that they would come get him when it was time to deliver the baby. He sat next to my mom and waited. They didn’t come for him. He changed out of the scrubs and waited some more.
Everything started happening very quickly. Someone yelled for Dr. Smith and to get someone from Peds to meet us in the OR. They turned off the Pitocin and started unhooking me from all the wires. I couldn’t stop crying. I knew things were really serious because everyone stopped updating me and just moved faster and faster to get things going.
When they were wheeling me into the OR, I remember thinking, “I can’t believe I am having an emergency c-section right now. I cannot believe this is happening to me.” Nick told me later that when they wheeled me into the OR, they were in such a hurry they left a skid mark on the floor outside my room. During the whole surgery, he just stared at that mark.
I writhed and screamed, I thought for sure I had hemorrhaged and was dying. LeAnna told me later I was screaming, “Get him OUT!” But I distinctly remember saying, “Ow, Ow.” They put an oxygen mask on my face and kept blacking out and then I REALLY thought I was dying so I struggled to stay awake but someone said, “Benay, we’re going to put you under. Just relax and take deep breaths.”
I hope to God someday I forget how painful that was, but honestly I get a shudder thinking about it even now.
The next thing I remember is waking up in the recovery room. It almost looked like a storage closet, there were boxes everywhere and I was behind a curtain that separated me from the rest of the room. One of the doctors from my surgery asked me, “Do you remember anything about the procedure?” I don’t think I was very nice to him. I drifted off again.
When I woke up again, the nurse in the room tells me she’s going to send in my husband, LeAnna and a chaplain. I was still pretty out of it and I asked questions that every new mom wants to know, “How big was he? What color is his hair? Have you seen him?” But the looks on their faces made me feel really scared and for a second, I thought they were going to tell that my baby didn’t make it.
They explained to me about the cool cap, and how you were born without any oxygen and might have long-term problems like epilepsy or cerebral palsy.
Daddy also told me that you looked perfect and beautiful and he got to touch you for a split second before they crowded around you to save your life.
After a few hours I regained feeling in my legs and they moved me to a wheelchair and took me upstairs to meet you. I was still in a fog, and it was hard for me to retain any information that people kept giving me. I knew they kept trying to tell me that you were in trouble, but when I saw you, I was instantly in love. I’ll never forget that moment RIGHT before I saw you for the first time, I literally trembled with excitement. There you were. My son. And you were beautiful.
This is such a long story, I doubt anyone is still reading it, but this is what I want you to know, Sweet Boy:
Yes, your birth was horrible. We thought we lost you. We thought you would have difficulties eating and walking and learning for the rest of your life. You had to wear a funny looking hat for the first 3 days of your life. I couldn’t hold you. I couldn’t kiss you. You couldn’t hear my voice. I couldn’t nurse you. You had blood drawn 4 times a day and a surgery when you were just 4 days old. Your poor head was swollen when your cap came off and your little ears were puffy.
Despite all that, I thought you were the most beautiful thing that had ever been born. I reveled in looking at your big cheeks and your long eyelashes that rested on them when you slept. I loved your big, baby belly and your long, baby legs. When your cap came off, I rejoiced in your damp, red curls. The day we could touch you was quite literally, the best day of my life. I took your tiny hand in mine and felt like I knew you would be okay. It was like you communicated it to me in that touch. Your little fingernails were already long. Your big toenails looked funny, like they were growing in the wrong direction. You smelled a little bit like the hospital, but you already had your delicious Calvin smell. Your little legs were in the frog position as you laid there in your already too small bed. I took a great, new mama pride in your size. Especially in the NICU, you dwarfed those other babies. I am convinced that you being so big, even though that’s what everyone worried about, helped to save you.
I loved you so much with that first glimpse of you that I almost forgot the position you were in. I look back on pictures of you hours after you were born. We weren’t even sure you would live through the night and I still am grinning at you. I literally could not stop smiling when I was with you. Every time your chest moved up and down I rooted for you. Whenever your lips moved I felt myself squeal a little bit because of how adorable you were. I didn’t see tubes and the cool cap those first hours, I just saw you.
Thank you for making me a mommy. Thank you for the best year of my life.
this about sums it up…
This is a clip from the show Dr. Katz. It made me laugh out loud because it is SO TRUE.
Flashback
We found some pictures on a camera we don’t use anymore of Calvin when he was one month and two days old. I was floored by how tiny he was! Because Calvin came out weighing 10 pounds and looking like a one month old, I never really felt like I had a newborn. Especially when you think about how he shared a room with a baby that was only 2 pounds! But these photos almost made me cry as we are hurtling towards his first birthday and then toddlerhood.
Please note that when he was only one month old, he looked like a grumpy old man, a look that he still uses daily.
I love this boy.
