52 Week Creativity Challenge, Week 4- "Stay In Touch"

"Stay in Touch" taken on a Motorola Photon Q Phone.  Edited in Google Chrome
by S. Clark

I am reading "Little House in the Big Woods" by Laura Ingalls Wilder with my daughter.  It chronicles a time where making butter took all day and they made their clothes by hand.  Laura's Pa had to travel all day to walk to the nearest town.  If I travel for a day, I end up half way through California.  Staying in touch with the larger world took work, like riding in a sled piled with furs in below freezing weather.  There wasn't a lot of interaction with the larger world, except for special occasions.

In contrast, I have an nearly unlimited ability to connect with the larger world.  My family of three has a laptop computer, desktop computer, a big screen television two smart phones and three tablets.   Two phones and three tablets travel with us.  The picture above is the tangle of cords we took with us on a recent trip.  We have additional cords for charging our devices in the car.  We can access the internet with all our devices, computers and the television.

All these devices allow us to stay in touch.  We can stay in touch with virtually anything or anyone in the world, using Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Face Time, Skype, Pinterest, Instagram, text messages, blogs and good, "old-fashioned" email.  (If you would like to argue that email is not old-fashioned, please note that email has been around for approximately 25 years, speaking on a land line telephone is practically ancient at this point!).  I can have up to the minute information about the State of The Union Address, Kimye's* recent activities, the Ebola Virus, or the impending snow doom expected for the Northeastern part of the U.S.  I can also see pictures of my friends and family,  get updates on their activities, see pictures of their food or learn how they feel about the aforementioned Kimye.

I am pretty sure that Ma and Pa Ingalls could give a care less about  Kimye; they were focused on important things, like snow and bear traps.  I don't know that they would be concerned about the latest political scandal or TV show, either.  They focused on their girl's well-being and staying touch with their extended family.  I would do well to remember Ma and Pa Ingalls when I am determining how I will stay in touch with the larger world.  More family, less Kimye.

*for those of you who are not up on pop culture, "Kimye" is an abbreviation for Kim Kardashian and Kanye West, a celebrity couple.  Kim is famous for being famous and having a big butt.  Kanye is a rapper.  They named their child North West.  

52 Week Creativity Challenge, Week 3- Goose Bumps & Bonus

This week's challenge is "Goose Bumps."  A literal interpretation yielded this cartoon drawing...

"Goose Bumps" Color Pencil Drawing Edited in Google Chrome
by S. Clark

Last week, I also felt compelled to experiment with cartoons.  A conversation with my husband about his love for electronics prompted the following cartoon.  

"Puppy Love" Pencil Drawing, Edited in Google Chrome
by. S. Clark

52 Week Creativity Challenge Week 2- "Old Hat"

Stack of Books-taken on a Motorola Galaxy phone, edited in Google Chrome

I have spent much of my life with my nose in a book.  I read while eating breakfast, while brushing my teeth, while taking a bath, on flights, while waiting in various places.  I read books, magazines, online articles, blogs and eBooks.  I always have a stack of reading material by my bed, on the kitchen table and of course, stuffed in book shelves.  Reading is a comfortable place for me, so much so that it could be seen as "old hat." This phrase, according to Google, came into use in the early 20th century to mean something that is familiar or well worn. It can also mean repeated too often or trite. However, the beauty that is reading, is that it never truly is the "old hat" of either definition.  The activity is familiar but the content is always new.  The act of picking up a book or magazine is comforting but the material may be challenging. Reading is the gift that keeps on giving.  It provides a daily opportunity to grow, to travel, to investigate, to learn, without ever leaving my home. Because of that, the activity might be well worn and familiar but it will never be trite!    

A Jealous Coward

My lap was formerly occupied by a cat, who was excused by Kona Bear

This is Kona's "Look of Concern"

Kona Bear, my St. Bernard, cannot even begin to accept that it is okay for other mammals to love me. Cat on my lap? Kona gives me the "Look of Concern" and scoots in her big butt.  My daughter wanting a hug? Kona is right there.  I go say "hi" to our chinchilla?  There is a very miffed St. Bernard huffing her displeasure.  My husband dares to lie down next to me on the bed? Kona Bear bounds up onto the bed and settles right in the middle.  There. Will. Be. No. Cuddling. With. Other. Creatures.  

She is also not accepting of my need to be in rooms with closed doors without her. She sticks her snout down to the crack between the door and floor.  I can hear the huff of disapproval.  Jealous, much?  (Although, if there is another dog around, I am pretty much dirt.  She has her priorities.)

Not only is she jealous, she is a coward.  I knocked my water bottle off the night stand the other night.  It made a large clatter as it fell to the floor.  Kona was asleep on the floor by my bed. (She didn't need to be in the bed because my husband wasn't there.)  She took off like a shot with her tail between her legs.  I saw her look over her shoulder as she galloped way.  Really?!  I had my suspicions she wasn't all that tough, but that was ridiculous.  She is a giving her breed a bad name.  All that stuff about rescuing stranded travelers in the mountains is not her idea of a good time.  She'd tell St. Bernard, the monk that started the breed, "Nah, I'm good here on the couch." or whatever it is that monk's sit on when they are not involved in other monk-type activities.  

She does alert us to all delivery trucks and greets guests with enthusiasm usually reserved for royalty, so it's not a total bust.  She is also incredibly generous with her hair.  My mom found one of Kona's tail feathers flapping gaily from the car heater. In California.  I will probably have Kona hair on my clothes for the rest of my life.  It's all good though.  I appreciate her devotion and how could you not love that face?    

Reflections on Vomit- Part 6

This captures the emotion of the entire pregnancy
copyright Jan Linda Photography

As I sit here writing this, I can hear the sound of my daughter listening to You Tube videos. She likes to watch videos of toy reviews, craft tutorials, and people playing video games. When I think of my 7 year old girl, going into labor on 6 am on March 14, 2007 seems like a long, long time ago. On the other hand, because the impact of the experience has dissipated very little, it seems like it was just a month or two in the past.

The super nifty birth class explained that most women start with contractions and then the water will break. Nope. My water broke and then the contractions started. Given that the entire pregnancy was fubar (if you don't know what fubar means click here), I shouldn't have been surprised that delivery wasn't going to go to plan either. I was surprised. Our ruined plan was to stay at home until the contractions were 20 minutes apart, then go to the hospital. Having my water break first meant that we just went straight away to the hospital.

copyright Jan Linda Photography

copyright Jan Linda Photography

Theoretically, I believe that birthing is a natural process and most women are equipped to handle child birth with out significant medical intervention. Had I not had HG, I might have contemplated home birth or some such hippie birthing process. HG removed all birthing options, except delivering in a hospital. We thought that I was strong enough to deliver without a Cesarean section, but that wasn't guaranteed. Many women with HG have to have C-sections, due to being weak and malnourished. I'd had 3 months to regain some strength after the worst of HG, but was by no means strong. I thought I had about 10 hours of natural child birth in me. After that, I was going to be all about medical intervention, theory or not.

Off we went, my boyfriend clad in his Homer Simpson pajamas. I assume I was also wearing pajamas but since they weren't as notable as Homer Simpson, I don't remember! I called my mom on the way to the hospital, because she had to get on a plane and fly from California. I hoped desperately that she would be there in time for the delivery.

My contractions were slow to get going and after about 4 hours, we decided to throw some pitocin into the mix. Then the contractions hit hard. I don't really remember much, except that all the information about handling pain I'd gotten from the super nifty child birth class was total and complete B.S. Total. Complete. Bull. Shit. After about 6 hours of that mess, I had an epidural. Ten hours was truly all that I had in me.

My mom had arrived around the time we decided an epidural was the way to go. I was exhausted and blessedly pain free, so I took a nap. Other family members had arrived and where churning around my room and the waiting room. My dad and 4 younger siblings had driven over from eastern Washington, my boyfriend's parents were there and his sister drove over from a different part of eastern Washington.

I started pushing at 11 p.m. At the beginning of the pushing I vomited for the last time and cried. HG is the gift that just keeps on giving. The remainder of the the time spent pushing involved me saying over and over “I am so done with this. I am so done with this. I am so done with this” as my mom, my boyfriend's mom and my boyfriend surrounded me. I was really, really done with the whole mess and once they told me to push, I was going to push that baby out before the day was done. She was born 22 minutes later.

Aden Elisabeth, born March 14, 2007 at 11:22 pm. 7 pounds, 7 ounces. 21 inches.

Best damn day of my life.

Aden Elisabeth
copyright Jan Linda Photography

Epilogue:

In the end I am truly thankful for my teeth and grateful to my cavities. If not for them, there would have been no nutrition for my baby or for myself. I am also thankful for phenergan and grateful it stopped the vomiting and lessened the nausea. If not for it, I might have died or lost my baby. I am thankful for my boyfriend, now husband, and grateful for his steadfast love. If not for him, I would have been in the hospital. And most of all, I am incredibly thankful that this horrible ordeal resulted in an amazing daughter.

OMFG, I am so happy to be not pregnant

Relief beyond all belief!

Sweet Girl

Good times with Aden

Previous installations of this series:

Part 1
Part 2

Part 3
Part 4

Part 5
Part 6

52 Week Creativity Challenge, Week 1- New Beginnings

I am joining in a 52 week creativity challenge, where I will complete one project per week based on a prompt from the Insight and Innovation Course for every week of 2015.  This week's prompt is "New Beginnings."  Starting a new year is similar to starting a new path in life, thus, this color pencil drawing of a path in the sunlight.  May 2015 bring much light to your life.

Color pencil drawing, edited in Google Chrome
by. S. Clark

Reflections on Vomit, Part 5

Heavy weight boxer size: Christmas 2006

Despite my improved mood and ability to eat, the pregnancy continued to be difficult, only in reverse. Once I started consuming a normal amount of calories on a regular basis, my metabolism realized nutrition was available. The immediate response my body made to the calories was to begin gaining weight very rapidly. Lots of weight, 65 pounds. Every fat cell in my body heaved a big sigh of relief and began to dramatically increase in size. If they hadn't been so starved, literally, they probably would have thrown a party! Instead my friendly fat cells had to make do with increasing my girth.

For purposes of comparison: me summer 2005

If you look carefully there is a tattoo on my lower back,
I am proud to say, I didn't gain weight there!
My tattoo is still beautiful!

By the time I reached the final month of my pregnancy, I weighed 185 pounds, as much as a heavy weight boxer. I think that doctors believe 30 pounds of weight gain during pregnancy is “healthy.” I exceeded that, by far. However, I don't remember my doctor ever saying a word about my weight being too much. It wouldn't have mattered what he said, anyhow. My metabolism had it's own ideas about my weight and I certainly wasn't going to restrict calories to limit weight gain at this point.

We were well and truly screwed financially. As a psychologist in private practice, I only earned an income when I saw clients. Because I self-employed, I didn't qualify unemployment or disability income. I also had to pay for business expenses because I still had office space and a contract with the group practice I joined after finishing school. To make matters worse, I had only been working as a licensed psychologist six months when I got pregnant and had massive student loan debt. There was no such thing as an “emergency savings account.” There were “emergency credit cards” instead!

Had I known how severely ill I would be, I could have taken steps to end my contract with the group practice. However, I was expecting a “normal” pregnancy with “normal” morning sickness. I kept expecting that I would be better any time. I didn't get better and by the time I figured that out, ending my contract didn't make much sense. We were racking up significant debt. Living expenses and medical costs went on a credit card. Or, I should probably say, several credit cards. Including the time I took off for maternity leave, we accrued $43,000 in debt. (My daughter was a very expensive project; We got her all paid off about a year ago!)

Because of the mounting debt, I had to return to work as soon as possible. I went back to work in the middle of October 2006. My doctor wouldn't even let me entertain the idea of working more than 15 hours per week, which was only enough to offset some business expenses. So, I spent four or five months lumbering to work three days a week, five clients per day. It felt good to be engaged in the world and doing something other than vomiting. My clients and coworkers were incredibly supportive. Life felt a little bit closer to normal.

I had to be very, very, careful, though. I had to be sure to rest enough, eat at the right time, eat the correct food and take my medication exactly as prescribed. Any deviation from those boundaries and I was immediately nauseated. The nausea acted as a warning sign that vomiting was on it's way. I heeded it's warning so well that there was no vomiting from October 2006 until the day I delivered my daughter.

I still didn't have any warm fuzzy feelings and I didn't feel all that connected to my baby. I had more positive feelings during the last three months than the prior six, but mostly I wanted my body back. While I was relieved that I hadn't lost my life, lost my baby, didn't hate my baby or (mostly) hadn't lost my sanity, I felt like my body had been hijacked. Pregnancy requires that the mother's body be used to facilitate the growth of the fetus, so all women are technically hijacked. However, typical pregnancies compensate for this by releasing happy, feel good hormones. Any happy hormones floating around in my pregnancy were no match for HG. I was simply determined to beat HG.

That was my life until my water broke around 6 am, March 14, 2007.

 You can read:
Part 1

Part 2

Part 3
Part 4

Part 5

Part 6  of this pregnancy saga!