Andy's Birth, part 2ish

All of these images were done by the amazing birth photographer, Beka Price Photography. I highly reccomend her for all your birth photography, and newborn photography needs. :)

Andy's Arrival

We arrived at the hospital at 9:30 am, and got nicely settled into the delivery room. Around 11am I believe is when the anesthesiologist came in to give me an epidural. I delivered at IMC, and I want to forewarn any moms that deliver there, if your anesthesiologist is Dr Green, run. Well, just wait for the on call.  Dr Green was who I had with Charlie, and luckily he was not on duty with Andy.

I have a very compressed spine from my first pregnancy, so epidurals are painful for me to get, but gosh so worth it! When the Dr came to break my water I was at a 2. When they checked me an hour later I was a 3. So it seemed as though it was going to be a slow process, so I hunkered down and took a long nap.

My parents came, brought Jason a sandwich that even through my slumber I could smell and hear them talking about. There I was, with my ice chips. :/

Now a back story of sorts, I was planning on having a birth photographer there. We rescheduled this induction twice, and it just so happened that on this day, there was going to be a 2 hour time period that she wouldn't be able to make, 2-4.

At 3pm, the nurse checked me and I was a 5. I thought oh perfect, my photographer will totally have time to make it!

At 3:20, his heart rate was dropping super low. I kept hearing it drop and asking my mom what was going on with him, (haha, hindsight, like she knew.) At 3:25 the nurse came in and said it sounded like I was about ready to have a baby. She checked me and I was a 9+. All I could do was laugh, that the photographer was just barely not going to make it. I text her and told her I was at a 9, but she was at a shoot and I totally understood and even though I would have loved to have her there for the delivery, I am a photog, I get it.

So. within minutes they had the dr paged, they set up the room, and at 3:45 it was time to push. I pushed 3 times and he was out.

When Henry was born, my first, I cried like a little girl, but with Charlie and Andy, all I can do is smile and be so grateful for healthy babies and safe arrivals.

Side note, my photographer came at about 4:30, and was able to take some amazing pictures after the birth and of his first bath. I will post those when they come. :)

Its about to get real up in here

I want to tell you something about me. Something I didn't even know about myself until a year or so ago. 
When I think back on my childhood, I would tell you that I was a difficult child with ADD, and I gave my parents a run for their money, literally. I didn't get a long with my siblings, was very outspoken, and care free. I fondly remember birthdays, and Christmases. With the exception of one other personal experience from my childhood, that is all that I remember. 

It didn't occur to me that it was weird that I didn't remember much. Until I learned why. 

A year or two ago I was told that as a child I was diagnosed with Antisocial Personality Disorder.  

"Antisocial personality disorder is a type of chronic mental condition in which a person's ways of thinking, perceiving situations and relating to others are dysfunctional — and destructive. People with antisocial personality disorder typically have no regard for right and wrong and often disregard the rights, wishes and feelings of others.

Those with antisocial personality disorder tend to antagonize, manipulate or treat others either harshly or with callous indifference. They may often violate the law, landing in frequent trouble, yet they show no guilt or remorse. They may lie, behave violently or impulsively, and have problems with drug and alcohol use. These characteristics typically make people with antisocial personality disorder unable to fulfill responsibilities related to family, work or school."

Basically what it means is I didn't think the rules applied to me. 

I was destructive to physical property

peed the bed til I was a teenager

stole from others, a lot. (but NOT from a certain girl in high school who her and her dad accused me of stealing her calculator, that still pisses me off to this day.)

abusive to my family 

repeated lying

behavior problems in school

I have done a lot of research on it in the last little while, mainly for the fear that its genetic and that I might pass it on to my children. From the best that I can tell, its not really genetic, no more than being shy or outgoing is. Which is good. I think it developed from a traumatic abuse I suffered. But, its who I was as a child and teen, and its something I want to address to those I may have hurt. 

My parents were told there is nothing they can do. No cure, treatment, or any course of action that can correct me. A Dr told my parents that in some cases, one day, as a young adult they will just snap out of it and be a totally normal person, but they wont remember a thing about it. 

I "snapped" out of it February 2008. I do remember the day and the event that did it, but out of love for a close friend I won't go into it. (proof I now care about others feelings lol)

Even though for all intended purposes I am now "normal", I left behind me a trail of hurt friends and family, ruined memories and no explanation. 

So here it is.

To my family. I am so, heartbreakingly sorry. When I hear stories of how I was, and things I did, I can not fathom for the life of me how I was still loved. I put each one of you through such a horrible experience, made you have no hope for a loving close family, and ruined relationships you might have had with friends and family. I stole from pretty much everyone that ever trusted me, and its an embarrassment I have to live with for the rest of forever. I lied to many of you, and most of the time for no reason at all other than to prove I was smart enough to get away with it. I was horrible, and there is no way to ever express how gut wrenchingly sorry I am. 

To everyone else I offended, hurt, stole from, bullied, was rude to, looked at the wrong way, or cut you off in traffic, please know I wasn't ok. I wasn't normal, and it was nothing you did. (unless it was done post 2008, if so theeeeen that still stands ;) )

Most people learn how to be who they are, and to be good people when they are a child. Their core is rooted in how they were raised. I, don't remember anything that would help me. So be patient with me as I learn all over again, how to love and serve others, because I never knew before. 

So when I say my children teach me, more than I teach them, I mean it. They are such amazing people and teach me everyday things I never knew about love and forgiveness. 

The Dr's told my parents, that some snap out of it. I know more than I know anything, that the reason I was able to now live a normal life full of love and happiness, is because of the faithful, pleeful prayers of my diligent parents. To them I owe everything. 

The last thing that I know, is that my savior lives, and he saves. Through him I can live again, and really live. Through his gospel and his teachings, I can learn how to be like him, when I never was before. I know the gospel is the fullness we all need to live each day to our spiritual fullest, and if you have lost touch with that, I invite you to find it again, anyway you can. 

I love you all, and ask for your forgiveness. I understand if its not something I can have, and to be honest, the hardest part is forgiving myself and convincing myself daily that I am a good person. 

If you cant play nice, you cant play

I've had. up to here. 

Ever since I got back from NY a few weeks ago, Henry has had temper and sharing issues. I've tried so hard to be patient, and discipline in the "right way", but its not working. It might be me. It might be him. I don't know. 

But I have had it. 

ALL his tempers and hitting relate to toys. He learned the word "mine", and I am not thrilled about it. He takes toys from others, then hits them with it.  Its not good, and its not how my boys will behave.

Boys will be boys, or thats what they say, but I am teaching my boys to be men one day. 

So they are gone. The toys. They are all, gone. 

Locked in the shed in the backyard. 

see:

Because I mean it. I have had it up to here. I don't need to read a parenting book, pinterest tactics, google solutions. I need to listen. listen to my mothers intuition, and the Spirit. 

Thats all. 

And today, they both told me to lock up all the toys. See, the room downstairs has been labeled the toy room. But its not a toy room, its a family room, and that's what it should be about. So each day I will go to the shed, pick out a toy or two that we can play with together, and step by step we will learn how to interact together. It will be slow, I am sure. But I need to teach my boys, its not about the toys. Its not about the things. Its really about family and love. 

I will also try to do more preschool education stuff. Yep I will probably Pinterest those lol. 

Oh, but I lied. I didn't take out EVERYTHING. 

I left the books. :)

Hijacking the "Family Blog"

Several years ago when my wife started this blog she used my email address in hopes that one day would contribute to the process. Well here I am sitting on the 24^th floor of my work building, in downtown Manhattan, staring through the window at the new World Trade Center.

2 weeks ago I left Salt Lake to come to New York City for impromptu training; this timing could not have come at a more inopportune time.  Both my kids were sick with the nasty rotovirus dubbed the Syndey flu and my wife had come down with it the day before I was to leave.   Several things were on my mind:
1, how can I leave my family when I am the only healthy one?
2, are my kids going to get better quickly especially my 8 month old Charlie?
3, am I going to be able to concentrate and learn everything I need to with distractions at home?

With my house in disarray and stress mounting on my wife, she suggested we take Charlie into the instacare because she was worried.  Having watched him all day eating and drinking all day, I figured he just looked awful because he was sick but was adequately hydrated so I ignored her mother’s intuition.  Not being fully satisfied with me declining the instacare idea, she asked that I give Charlie a blessing.  So I called over to my parents who came to assist. 

As I gave Charlie a blessing it felt fairly normal, nothing out of the ordinary as far as blessings go and I was comforted by that.  My Mom then suggested that my Dad give me a fathers blessing as well, knowing that I was stressed about leaving this sounded like a great idea. I found comfort in knowing that my Dad sensed this and gave me the blessing I needed without me saying much of what I was feeling to him.  The real change and surprise to me was as I suggested to my wife that she have one as well knowing that her coming days would not be easy. 

When I began the blessing, it was clear as day to me what needed to be said first.  The spirit was very strong and caused me to pause as this was quite unexpected.  I then blessed my wife to be sensitive to promptings of the Holy Ghost.  This theme continued throughout the blessing.  There are times as a Priesthood holder you know you have said things the Lord intended you say, this was one of them for me.

The next morning as the kids were waking up just before I was to head to the airport and looking at Charlie his temperament seemed normal but he didn’t look right.  I mentioned this to my wife as she was half asleep and headed off to the airport.  When I landed and got my phone turned back on, I got my picture and text from my wife of poor Charlie lying on a hospital bed.  He looked terrible, incoherent, and seriously sick.

My wife had put him down for a nap and he had been sleeping for 3 hours.  Knowing that anyone who is sick, you tend to sleep more, this didn’t seem too abnormal.  However, my wife received a prompting to check on Charlie, as she woke him up, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he became unconscious for a few seconds.  Charlie’s mouth was bone dry and he was severely dehydrated. My wife rushed to Layton to drop off Henry at his grandmas while she went to the ER.  As she was waiting at the ER in Layton, she received another prompting to leave and go another 10-15 miles north the hospital in Ogden.  As it turned out, our Pediatrician who practices in Cottonwood, an hour south of there was on call that day in their Pediatric department.   We love our Pediatrician, when Henry had all his health issues related to eating and digesting, he didn’t give up and kept trying things until we figured it out.  So his presence must have been a relief to my wife, with me on the other side of country. 

Charlie was admitted to the hospital and had to stay there for 2 days receiving fluid by IV.  The Doctor told us he was a day or two, maybe less from dying had we not brought him in.  I am thankful that my wife listened to the spirit to wake Charlie up from his nap and to see something was terribly wrong.  My proud self would have said he was fine and to wait until tomorrow and I am sure he will be fine.  Had I been there he might be dead.  The Lord works in mysterious ways and I am grateful for the Priesthood and for the blessing I was able to give my wife, and especially to her for knowing when to act and listen.

There are times in your life when events change the fabric of who are, or remind of what you are.  Having children has taught me how to love.  I thought I knew what that was growing up in a loving family, and having met my wife, but I really didn’t know.  With Henry spending countless nights struggling to get him to eat and sleep, worry everyday about something as basic as his ability to eat and digest food, and never thinking of yourself.  Even the simple things of getting up several times a night to feed your children so that they can sleep and grow, giving up what society teaches us is normal, giving up going to movies or even just going to a restaurant.  This is taught me what love is.  As I ponder how our Savior AND Father in Heaven feel this kind of charity towards every single person it reminds me how much more I need to work on.  Some may say that this kind of thought just holds you down and prevents you from really being happy, but really it points you to what is lasting happiness.  We have our agency to choose right and wrong, that is beauty of this world and the plan or Father in Heaven and Savior have for us. We fight every day to maintain our agency as it is the core, in my opinion, of the plan.  Anything that hinders our ability to choose takes away from our happiness and our ability to love.

I didn’t intend to get on a soapbox here, but I have found great comfort that I can by in NYC and my in-laws, family, and Ward were there to help when I couldn’t.   Spending 2 weeks away from my family, has reminded me of what is important. I like to say this trip saved my son and reminded me of who I really am and what I really can become.

Charlies hospital stay and a tender moment

So its 819pm and I have to go to bed because my stickler of a baby won't let me have the tv on in his hospital room. Humph.

But here's my tender mercies moment. A while ago I was asked to help with a stake service project by cutting fleece for blankets to take to primary childrens hospital. I HAAAAAATE fleece, with a fierce passion. So it was not my favorite thing. But every time I found myself rushing through and maybe getting sloppy, I told myself to take care of these blankets because of the special spirits they will go to. Honestly at some points I thought this is silly, no one is going to care about these blankets, the hospitals have a bajillion blankets. But I did it anyway.

Fast forward to today. In the er this afternoon charlie got poop on his fuzzy blankie. His blankie smells like home, and I wanted him to have it to sleep with, he likes to rub his face against it. They can't really wash it for me, but when I told my nurse I thought he'd sleep better with it, she left for a minute, and then came back.

With a fleece blanket.

I got a little choked up as I reached for it and wrapped charlie in it. He instantly started rubbing his face in it and drifted to sleep. I was wrong. That fleece blanket made all the difference, especially because I knew it was donated and someone somewhere put service and heart into it.  

I am grateful for this banket, it made me appreciate the service project. And I am grateful for the service project, it made me appreciate this blanket.

I am grateful for this trial my son is having, it makes me appreciate his health. I am grateful, so very grateful, that I get to wake up in the morning and go across the hall to greet my sons smiling faces, and that I don't have to drive to a hospital probably missing their adorable morning stoopers.

I am grateful for those that DO have to go through the trial of having their children stay in a hospital longer-term, they provide strength and a backbone to our community.

I am just grateful.

At this time, in this trial, in this moment, I have nothing but gratitude.

I won't be that mom

I sat here in bed thinking there was something I needed to do. Then it clicked. I felt an obligation to blog about the milestones my children are making. Document each little thing they do. Eloquently describe their every manor-ism down to the way they sneeze.

Then I realized, I don't want to.
I don't blog to document, I blog to express.

Sure. Some people use blogs as a journal, and that is fine and dandy. But when I am 80 years old looking back on my blog/journal, I am not going to care one bit about what age my babies learned to crawl. Where they slept at night. If the slept through the night. what size diapers they are in. If they liked their car seat or not. All of that means nothing. I want to remember the feelings. The emotions. I want to laugh the laughs, and smile the smiles all over again. I want to take their baby blankets to my nose, sniff a beautiful baby scent and remember their giggles because I was there and heard it, not because I wrote down a description of it.

I don't want to be that mom that is too busy trying to make things perfect, write every little "memory" down, preparing all sorts of new smart games to play, because to be honest, Henry likes it when I just get down on the ground and poke his belly button. He is simple like that.

I don't want to miss experiencing their childhood, because I am too busy documenting it. Just because you are present in your child life, doesn't mean you are involved.

Just know that my boys are the cutest boys I have ever seen, thriving in life, loving each other, and having a ball in this adventure we share. So even though its the "norm" to document the milestones of your children on your blog, I no longer will.

Because to be honest, I am too busy. I am too busy, being a mom. I am too busy being the mom that is soaking it up, instead of writing it down.

Its Char Char time

This, is Charlie. Also know as Char Char. He is almost 7 months old. 

He is the SWEETEST baby there is. He is rarely upset, and smiles at everyone. He will melt your heart. 

He is such a binkie baby, and I love it. It's so much easier to do everything, with him taking a binkie. He's upset in the car? put a binkie in. He woke up? put a binkie in. Henry hit him on the head? put a binkie in! 

He's a camera ham. I wonder why....

He has such beautiful blue eyes. I have no idea where they came from, but I adore them. I get lost in them. 

He puts up with Dad and Henry putting hats on him. Such a trooper. 

He is itchin to get mobile. He walks all over the place in his walker. And come on, is that not the cutest church outfit for a baby you have ever seen?!

He is HUGE. 97% for height 73% for weight and 100% for head. He is in 12 month clothes easy. 

He has no teeth yet! Its weird to me. I expected some by now. On his own time. 

 He is the perfect mellow addition to our high energy family. He provides the peace and calmness we need. He is a big piece of the Powell puzzle, and I am glad we got him. 

Its all about Henry

This is the Henry. He is just shy of 2 years old. Let me tell you about him. 

It really doesn't get much cuter, and more fun than this toddler, right here. I love being able to photograph my children as they are. How I want to remember them. Henry LOVES his blankie. It really is a staple in his life. 

He never really like binkies, but he sucks on his two fingers. I think its sweet, and I don't care to make him stop. I think he will give it up when he is ready, and thats ok. 

He has no pants on in some of the pictures because it was morning, and he wet right through his diaper in the middle of the night, like he frequently does, so most mornings he is pantsless. This kid has wicked fast kidneys, I tell ya. 

He is the healthiest eater of the fam. Always wanting fruit, lean proteins, and plenty of Vitamin C. He also has been known to build a mean lego tower. 

He is quite the little climber. He keeps me going ALL.DAY.LONG.

He still sleeps in a crib, and thats OK, too. Why rock the boat? he loves it. He actually likes to go to bed these days. I think he realizes how nice sleep is, and that he needs it. He will grab his blankie, climb up the stairs, into his room, turn off the light and say,"BYE!" 

This is his favorite book. Its a little Einsteins book. He points and knows what everything is, even if we've never said it before. 

Its my favorite age thus far. He knows who Jesus is, or as he says,"jeeeez"

This little guy steals my heart every single day, and I love it.