Kevin's story

I thought since Kevin's birthday is coming up, I would write about his birth. Since he is the most recent of my babies, it is probably the one I remember most clearly too. Of course, my memory ain't what she used to be.

As background, Garrett's birth was planned out naturally, but interventions snowballed into me having an epidural and the doctor using forceps and doing a 4th degree episiotomy. With Hannah, we were moving (actually John had already moved but came home for a week to be there for the birth and then pack up our house), so she was induced, I had an epidural, and again, 4th degree epi.

Finally, with Kevin, I armed myself with a lot of knowledge, research, and anecdotes. With the help of supportive friends, I was ready for my dream birth. He was due Oct. 27th, and I was sure I would be early, though I never had been before. Of course Halloween came and went, with no cute little infant to put in the pumpkin costume I bought for him. I pigged out on the kids' Halloween candy. Finally, over a week past the due date, he decided to make his appearance. I was lying down because I was going to go to a doctor's appointment and I was a little stressed out because I knew he wanted to induce (or at least do tests that would make them think they had to induce). When I got out of bed, I felt a little trickle, and knew my water had broken. I noticed there was a little meconium, but didn't get worried. I told the kids (Garrett was almost 6 and Hannah 3 1/2) the basics--they had been following along in the month by month magazine and knew all about the amniotic bag of waters. Luckily, I had planned to pick up John from school and take him and the kids with me to the Dr. so I could have some moral support. I went to get him, and the first thing the kids said is "DAD, DAD, Mom's leaking!" I still wasn't really having contractions.

So we all went to the Dr. but they said to just go to the hospital. We took our kids to John's brother's house. It was about 3:30 on a Friday afternoon. I tried to talk John into taking me somewhere to eat, but he was too nervous. And to tell the truth, I wasn't really hungry. I just wanted to postpone going to the hospital as long as possible. I couldn't think of anywhere I really wanted to go, so we ended up just going to the hospital. And I was a little nervous as well, since I'd never had my water break before, and I didn't like the color of the fluid coming out.

When we checked in, the first thing I had to do was refuse iv fluids. And it wasn't the last time I had to say no thanks. The next thing I had to do was refuse pitocin. I got hooked up to the monitors and they saw not many contractions (about 10 min apart--I could have told them that), and the baby was tolerating them well. They let me off the monitors around 5 pm and that was when my doula Becky came. I walked around a little, used a birthing ball, and generally tried to get the labor going. It didn't really work. At my first exam, I was at a 3, and around 7 pm I was still a 3, and he hadn't really moved down either. They hooked me up to the monitors again and noted some decellerations in his heartbeat. The meconium looked darker and thicker at this point. They went over a few options, and I finally decided on a tube to flush clean fluids around the baby, minimizing his chances of aspirating a concentrated amount of meconium. This, of course, meant that I would have to stay in bed. It also meant that it would slow down the contractions even more. The Dr. promised me that he would let me try it naturally for as long as it was safe for me and the baby. Around 9 pm, he came in again and said he had been watching my monitors and the baby's heartbeat was slowing down way too much. While he was talking to me, I had another contraction, and the heartbeat slowed down under 80. The Dr. said, "Two more like that and we're rushing you to and emergency c-section." I started sobbing, and his heartrate kicked up quickly. I agreed to have pitocin to see if I could at least get him out vaginally before they sliced me open. I made the Dr. and nurses PROMISE to start me on the very lowest dose, and to turn it off once I got to a 5 (with my other two kids I went from 5 to 10 in less than an hour).

So they started the pitocin. And BAM! It really kicked me into high gear. Becky did some pressure points on my feet and I could feel the baby moving down. And it HURT! I made them check me at about 10:00 and I was at a 5/6. They turned it off, but boy, it did not feel like it. The contractions were on top of each other, barely letting up at all. I asked Becky and John both to check and make sure the pit was off, because I couldn't believe it. Toward the end, I think if I could have caught my breath enough to talk, or had any coherent thought, I would have asked for an epidural. Maybe. The baby's heart rate continued at a semi-acceptable rate, though the decellerations were lower than they would have liked. At about 11 pm, as one contraction ebbed, I suddenly felt very nauseous. "I feel sick," I gasped. John patted me on my shoulder, thinking to himself (probably): "Of course she feels sick, she's about to have a baby." At my words, however, Becky sprang away from the bed, found a bedpan, and practically tossed it to John right as I heaved in his general direction. I threw up for the next few minutes, and let me tell you, it is NOT FUN to throw up while you are having contractions. Nothing is fun when your in the last stage of labor, I guess, but throwing up just makes it that much worse. Meanwhile, Becky was positively crowing: "You're going to have the baby soon!" And I groggily remembered that heaving is a sign of transition. She called the nurse in.

Sure enough, a few minutes later I was curled up in as tight a fetal position as I could be with my big belly, moaning with some major pressure. They checked me and I was 10, ready to push. I had been lying on my left side, as that seemed to be the best for the baby's heart rate. I pushed on my side once, but the heart rate was dipping super low again, and they were serious about getting him out FAST! So up I sat, pushed a few times without holding my breath. They kept telling me to hold my breath, but in my perfect birthing plan I didn't want coached pushing, and I wanted to push on my side without holding my breath, so that the baby would move down a little more slowly and I wouldn't need an episiotomy. Becky knew all this, and knew all my concerns about interventions. During a break after my 3rd or 4th push, the dr. said "Push again between contractions." I said "I can't" and he snipped me a tiny episiotomy (it didn't even need to be stitched later) I felt it, but it was only a tiny pinch. Then I heard Becky's voice quietly say: "Lajuana, the next one you have to hold your breath and really push him out. NOW." I learned later that his heart rate was dipping in the 30's for the pushes and everyone was really freaking out. I had no idea, because I was really in the zone. Anyway, after Becky said that (I trusted her more than the nurses who didn't know me), the next push I held my breath, really put my all into it, and out he popped!

They took Kevin and sucked him out real good to make sure he wouldn't aspirate the meconium. He looked good, though. The Dr. showed me the placenta and we saw that the umbilical cord that attached to the placenta was really thin. He said he'd never seen anything like it. But he didn't seem too malnourished; he was 8 pounds, 1 ounce. Of course, he was very late and I was expecting him to be over nine pounds. Garrett was 8 lb. 11 oz. Anyway, the pediatric nurses came later and took him to the NICU because his blood sugar was extremely low and they were afraid he would have seizures.
He stayed in the NICU for a few days, and I stayed with him. He was HORRIBLE at nursing, sometimes taking over 30 minutes to latch on. But it's not like I had anything else to do in the hospital, so why not spend all day trying to get him to nurse? Later when we brought him home, it was a little more frustrating, but never really bothered me that much. Just time consuming. By the time he was 2 months, he was pretty normal.

Anyway, the main thing I noticed about having a non-medicated birth (besides the pain) was the recovery time. I swear I felt absolutely fabulous the second Kevin came out. I remember when the nurse brought me some ibuprofen shortly after the birth, I asked "What is this for?" and she said, "You'll be feeling pain soon, this will head it off." I said, "I'm feeling fantastic. If I'm hurting later I'll ask for it." But I never needed it. When the adrenaline/hormonal high wore off, I was still feeling great. I felt back to my normal self (better than my overdue pregnant self) by the morning, except for the heavy bleeding. Which is good because I spent a lot of time in a not-so-comfy chair in the NICU.

So I still have a dream of a perfect birth. I don't know if it will happen or not, since I'm gettin' up there in years, and we're not sure if we'll have any more children. Here are some pictures of my baby at 2 months, 3 months, and 8 months.



























And here's one from just today, my big three-year-old:

Birthday Boy

Just gotta say how fantastic my dear husband is. He is an old man now, but still finds time to play games and throw the kids around a little. We celebrated during the weekend, and though I went to bed without doing the dishes, he did them before he went to work this morning! Now that is an amazing man. He is absolutely tireless in his home improvement, always working on projects to make our home even more beautiful and elegant than it was before. He loves his family and loves mine as well, he has such a big heart. He puts up with me and all my quirks and habits--what more could I ask for? Here are some great photos of my Johnny, as a baby, boy, engaged man, and loving father.

10 Great Years

What an amazing life, better than I could have ever imagined! After looking at different places, even our bed and breakfast honeymoon location in Maine and the beaches of Mexico, we decided on a more local and historic place to celebrate our historic anniversary. We left our kids with Lajuana's sister and spent all day Friday and Saturday in Nauvoo! It was a nice 4 hour drive from our house. We did miss an important turn on our way there and we ended up going across this neat bridge to the Iowa town of Burlington. I'm including a picture we took that will appeal to my engineering buddies who love bridges and regular people who will notice the cheap gas prices (we are still near $3.90 or higher in Chicago).



We ended up turning back, after we filled up...you don't think we're crazy to not take advantage of the "low" price, and made it no problems to Nauvoo. This was my first time and Lajuana had been but not since she was a teenager.



We drove though the center of the town and then around the area before stopping to eat. Now I'm not a picky eater, pretty much anything vegetarian will do. We also never really carry cash because...well we live in the modern era. Both things happen to make things challenging. We stopped at this one place and it was OK but not really anything. Then we went to another place with nice signs. We settled there cause they took checks, thankfully Lajuana brought her book. Let's say I ended up with grilled cheese (with American cheese...which really isn't even cheese) and some decent french fries. Lajuana ended up with a basic salad with chicken harder than the 150 year bricks holding the building up! Not to be snobby but our dinning experience was less than enjoyable. But we didn't go there for the food we went for the Temple!



I've been working on my genealogy and we were able to take my family names to the Temple that afternoon. What a great way to spend your anniversary! That night we walked around and found a great place to eat and they take credit cards, its called the Nauvoo Mercantile. So we ate and then took some more pictures. People were so friendly. People would come up and talk to us and we'd share in the excitement of being in Nauvoo. We meet a couple that had been married and were going to be sealed the next day and they were just glowing with excitement. Just about everyone we talked to asked us if we had been to Nauvoo before and if we were converts, which I am 13 years now and Lajuana's family goes back to the early years and includes family that lived in Nauvoo. The funny thing is almost everyone we talked to were also converts.





We stayed at a lovely B&B called the Ellis Sanders Home. It was fantastic and we'd highly recommend it if you come as a couple, not really a kid friendly place. The home was built in 1844 and their parlor was often used to host informal church meetings with records showing Brigham Young and others that came to the home. Ellis Sanders was also great friends with Heber C. Kimball. So it was neat to hang out in such a historic home.




Our cute bedroom with a sign welcoming us and congratulating us on 10 years.

Breakfast was later than we are used to, 9am, and none of the historic homes opened until 9am. So we took a drive and checked out some cool things. One interesting thing was a tunnel. I took some pictures of it and we enjoyed it but there were not any signs telling us about it. It wasn't until later when we went to the brick yard and they told us the story of how Joseph Smith directed people to build a canal and a tunnel to drain the swamp lands and that the tunnel we saw and took a picture of was the one built to drain the city. Pretty neat I think!



We also went to the bank of the Mississippi River which is right near the tunnel. The lilly pads and birds were so cool. Not to mention a huge spider that I almost walked right into, the thing was about three inches long. Any guesses on what kind it is? Was my life in danger?





We then went back to the B&B and had a wonderful! It was the best food in all of Nauvoo I am sure of it! We eat breakfast with another couple that stayed in the B&B and they were celebrating their 4 year anniversary. We enjoyed their company and we all went to the Temple after the great food. I must say the Nauvoo Temple inside is just amazing, peaceful, and touches of history. We had a fantastic time. Afterwards we went to the brickyard, the smith shop, and tons of historic homes. I won't bore you more with our trip. One funny thing is that on our way out of town we decided not to eat dinner there but went to that town we accidentally went to on our way there in Iowa and had a fantastic dinner right on the river, a place called the Drake.

Overall this was one of the most unique anniversaries we've had. We've gone to B&B's and love them, we've left our kids before, but we've never gone to a historic town like this with the entire focus of our vacation to be spent in the Temple. It was perfect and amazing, a great way to celebrate 10 years!

---JOHN

Pictures of the family

Our happy bunch of kids. It's been a while since we had a photo session, so I took the chance and the light from the sun coming in our family room to take some pictures. The sad part is that I had 200 speed film in the camera and didn't realize it, so some of the pictures got over exposed. Yes I'm still in the age of film, our digital camera is good for general pictures but for portaits I like film. But anyway I think overall the pictures came out nice and hopefully give you some insight into Garrett, Hannah, and Kevin. --- John

Hannah, Kevin, Garrett


Garrett




Hannah






Kevin

My thoughts about Dad

Let me first say that my Mom is doing well, getting stronger. Every other day, she walks on the treadmill for 15 minutes, and has been bugging me to call her doctor to see when she can go back to her water aerobics class! She has always been very fit and active. She is taking steroids to reduce the swelling in her brain from the tumor, and that wreaks havoc with her diabetes and her sleeping patterns. In a few weeks, she will be off the steroids, and at the end of September will have another MRI to find out if the tumor has shrunk and to see if there are any more popping up yet.

I have had a pretty hard time with my Dad. He has really declined in the last few years, but most noticibly in the last four months. He has been staying in a home since my Mom had her treatment. We bring him home for most of the day, about 9 or 10 am until 6 or 7 pm. Here's our conversation the first time I went to pick him up:
Dad: Well there's my little girl!
Me: I might be your youngest girl, but I'm the tallest girl in our family! (That's how I usually answer when he calls me little or youngest)
Dad: Well now, I didn't know that. (Confused and looking at the nurse): I haven't seen her in years and years!
I just kind of laughed it off and didn't contradict him.
Dad: What grade are you in now?
Me: I'm all done with school now. I'm a Spanish teacher (trying to keep it simple).
Dad: Really? A teacher?
Me: Yes, Dad, just like you were.
Dad: Like I was?
Me: You were a professor for 35 years.
Dad: I was?

When we came out to see them in April, my Dad gave me a bunch of Spanish magazines that he had been saving for me. He used to pick them up everywhere he went and save them in the garage. He knew I had started my Master's degree, and kept asking me when I would be done. So now, four months later, he doesn't remember that I'm an adult, that I finished college, started my master's, that I was teaching Spanish, or that even he himself was a professor. It was shocking.

It's strange, though, what functions do remain. He is able to read from the scriptures out loud every evening. He followed along in the hymn book singing quite well. He can do almost everything himself: put on his seat belt, brush his teeth, eat, dress. But you have to tell him every little step. Here is a typical meal:

Dad: Can I eat now?
Mom: Go ahead, but eat your corn first because the chicken is hot.
Dad: (picking up his fork) Do I use this?
Mom: Use your fingers (it was corn on the cob).
Dad: (Taking a bite) There's no stuff on this.
Mom: Put butter and salt on it.
Dad: Butter?
Mom: Here (pointing)
Dad: (Putting his corn down and picking up his fork)I better see what this is (poking at the chicken)
Mom: That's your chicken and it's too hot so don't eat it for a few minutes. Eat your corn.
Dad: My corn?

You see the pattern. Spoken words have little or no meaning for him. He repeats everything because he doesn't know what we're talking about. We have to point to things. But how do you point to "professor" or "sick"? He's actually quite amusing to listen to, but it gets frustrating at times. He often says things like "I wish I had never been born" or "When do I get to die?" or "I will be dead by next week." Which, naturally, is a little depressing.

The nurses in the home and most other people treat him like he is a child. Like a child with bad hearing. It bothers me, it makes me want to tell them all about his past. I want to put a sign on him that says "TREAT ME WITH RESPECT." They don't know that he ran away from an abusive home when he was 16, rode the rails and hitch hiked across the country, enlisted in the army, attended several prestigious universities while working, served an honorable mission in Argentina, taught Kindergarten in California, received his Masters and PhD while a young father, had ten children, was a tenured professor, managed money to raise ten children and then put every single one through college, served another mission with my mom, etc. That's not even the tip of the iceberg.

I take Dad out for a few hours every day so my Mom can rest. On one of our outings, I asked him to tell me how he met Mom. He couldn't remember. Many people with Alzheimer's can remember things from their childhood or past. I asked him a few different questions, even led him down the path a little way to see if he would remember. But he didn't. That was a little sad. He has better moments, but I would say that about 90% of the time he is as I described above.

I keep telling myself that we're doing the best we can for him, and all we can do is help him be happy for the next few years of his life. And if that means driving him by the church 5 times a day to show him that no one is there right now, well then, let's do it. It doesn't bother me. And I'm enjoying my time with him while there are no other demands on my attention (kids). He's pretty fun to be with.

Does anyone have any experience with Alzheimer's or dementia? I would love to hear some stories and/or advice.

I love the beach (for my kids)!

I've decided that there are three types of beach goers: the kind that don't like it at all and just sit in a chair and try to keep sand out of everything; the kind that love it, swim in the ocean, build sand castles, and don't mind the sand in everything, including their swimsuit; and those that fall somewhere in between who like to go mostly for their children's sake. I fall into the last category--I don't LOVE going to the ocean, but I love seeing my kids have fun there. I like swimming and bobbing in the waves, but I don't love the jellyfish or stepping on crabs or shells. I like the relaxing feeling of sitting on the beach and knowing my kids are having fun with little entertainment from me. I love food at the beach, even though it gets a little sandy. It's fun to pop pretzels and grapes into my kids' mouths because their hands are too sandy to touch them. I like forgetting about the usual routines of meals and naps because we are having too much fun to leave the beach and return to that humdrum existence.

This vacation was a real break for me. I decided before I left that I would just take it easy, and make it a really fun vacation that the kids would remember. No stress, no yelling, and suspension of all but the most basic rules of good behavior. No time crunch, just let things come as they may. It turned out to be the most fun I've had in a long time. The only thing I missed was John and Denise, but to tell the truth (sorry my dear) I don't think it would have been so relaxing with John, or with Denise. We would have ended up arguing about somewhere to eat, or where to stop for gas, or I would have been more stressed about keeping things clean or that I wasn't doing enough with the kids, or upset that John was taking long naps while I "did all the work." Or upset that Denise was spoiling the kids or they were sassing her, or she didn't do things the way I normally would.

As it was, we had a great time. The kids played nicely with their cousins that were there (only two girls aged 10 and 14). The highlight for me was our bike ride. We thought it would be a good way to keep the kids busy for the morning, a challenging but not impossible ride to the ice cream store. We thought it might be about 2 miles but we clocked it later at 3.7 miles. As you can imagine, it was very hot and humid. Hannah has only been about a mile at a time on her little bike, so it was a real marathon to her. The ice cream store was closed when we got there, and Garrett instantly dissolved into frustrated tears that mixed with his perspiration. Luckily, a lady at the gift shop suggested the gas station and we went (walked!) there and let everyone pick out an ice cream bar or popsicle. It was a long ride home, but we made it. Hannah was so exhausted by the end (7.4 miles!!) that she forgot to use her brakes when she came down the steep driveway and ran right into the woods, scaring me (and herself) half to death. She wasn't hurt at all, not even a scratch. I had told all the kids that whoever didn't complain on the ride home would get a popsicle. And whoever said nice things about the ride would get their popsicle BEFORE LUNCH! I totally cracked up when they were trying to find good things to say: "That shade on the other side of the street looks nice." "I love these bumps in the path, they make it more fun." "This is a good day to go to the beach and swim in the water." I was really proud of all the kids (though Kevin just rode in the trailer) but especially Hannah pedalling 10 times what we all were on our big bikes. She is a strong little girl! I thought they would all be exhausted when we got back, but within 20 minutes in the air conditioning, they were jumping around just as hyper as ever. Kevin is the only one who was tired enought that when he sat down for a few minutes, he dropped off to sleep! And he didn't even have to pedal!

The kids were amazingly good in the van on the way down, and believe it or not, they were even better on the way home and I drove the WHOLE WAY IN ONE DAY! Yes, 16 hours of driving and caring for my 3 children all accomplished with patience and skill by yours truly. I was so, SO happy to get home and see John and see the remodeled family room. We don't have any pictures of that though, because our camera totally freaked out the last day at the beach and it is getting repaired. Thank goodness we got the 4 year warranty. Here are some beach and bike ride pictures, then I'll give you an update about our moms:








John's Mom is now able to put slight pressure on her foot, so now she doesn't have to hop with a walker, she can walk a little bit. She still can't drive of course, and her car is totalled, so she is still dependant on others to take her where she needs to go.

My mom has regained a little of her fine motor skills, and can read and comprehend a little better now. She has always been a quick healer and doctors are always amazed at how she bounces back after everything. She had planned on taking my Dad on a cruise in October, but she definitely would not be able to take Dad. She still wants to go, though. I am leaving on Thursday to stay with her until the following Saturday. I'm excited to go and spend time with her. My sister says I'll have to give her insulin shots because she can't do it herself. That is making me a little nauseous to think of, but I guess I gotta do what I gotta do. My Dad is getting a little better about staying at the home, now that he has his routines. But he is still really lost and doesn't understand what's going on. I'm just hoping he will still recognize me as his daughter, because I can't bear the thought of completely losing him mentally. He usually remembers Allyson is his daughter, but every day says "It's nice to see you! It's been a long time!" and he never remembers her name, even though she's been there two weeks.

Please continue to pray for us. I really feel the prayers helping me. Did someone pray that my kids would be good and that I would stay sane on the long road trip by myself? It worked!

Mom updates

John's Mom continues to mend slowly. She needs to be driven to the doctor several times a week, and also taken to the store. She has been able to eliminate pain killers during the day, but still needs to take one at night so she won't wake up in severe pain. She has a great attitude about her injury and loves for people to visit. We wish she didn't live so far away, so we could visit her more often.

My Mom went in for Gamma Knife radiation on Wednesday. The doctors are optimistic for her short-term recovery. The tumor is still there, but will hopefully begin to shrink in the next few weeks. In the meantime, she still has a lot of difficulty speaking, comprehending, and reading. The doctor believes this will likely improve as the tumor shrinks.

Unfortunately, the nature of melanoma is that once it has spread (called metastatic melanoma) through the lymphatic system, it is nearly impossible to irradicate from someone's body. It will find somewhere else to concentrate. Chemotherapy doesn't usually work very well with melanoma, and with my mom being almost eighty, the chemo would be more likely to kill her than help her. The survival rate for metastatic melanoma is about 10% living after five years. So needless to say, we are preparing for the end of her earthly life. My siblings and I are all taking a week or two to go out and be with her, to help as best we can, and spend some time with her. I will probably go from Aug. 14 to 22nd.

My Dad has not done too well in the nursing home. He keeps trying to escape and studies maps to figure out how to get back home. He doesn't understand why he can't be with Mom. Unfortunately, she is just too incapacitated to take care of him. Even when my sister brings him home for a few hours, he makes too many demands on my Mom, stressing her emotionally and physically. We are not sure what the next few weeks and months will bring, but of course there will be many changes and I am trying to prepare myself emotionally for those.

Denise and I had planned a trip to South Carolina to rent a beach house with my two brothers and their families. When we found out about my Mom, Denise decided to go to be with her, but only on the condition that I would still take my kids to the beach. My Mom was upset that Denise gave up her beach vacation (they share a great love of the ocean, my Mom was raised in So. California), and she would have been horrified if I made the kids miss it as well. So off I drove with my three crazy kiddos, 16 hours. It was worth it though, we had a great time, and I was able to worry about Mom together with my brothers. While we were gone, John did a little remodelling on the family room. He worked on it the whole week, and did an amazing job. I'll put up pictures of our beach trip and the new family room soon.

We would welcome your continued prayers in our behalf, for all of us. Though I know the eternal nature of my family, it is so difficult to prepare to say goodbye, not only to my Mom, but also to the father I have always known as he declines rapidly without the support of my Mom caring for him. Here are my parents at our wedding:

Love, Lajuana