A Different Kind of Training

I know a lot of people look at pregnancy, delivery and (poor me) recovery as a time of discomfort.  Unless of course you are that woman that glows while pregnant and loves every single moment.  While I had an easy pregnancy it did come with its less than comfortable moments, moments I tried to view as training for my long runs.

• Since early pregnancy coincided with  summer and good weather I kept running.  Sure, I cut out my weekend long run but I kept-up with Tuesday Rock Candy (hill work) and Thursday Priest Point (45 min run).   This isn't exactly a ton of running and plenty of people have done more, but I am proud of myself.  During this time I was exhausted and felt nauseous, as in each footfall made me want to vomit.  During races/long runs your stomach doesn't always love you.  What better way to better learn to deal with it then to have every moment of every run feel like crap?
• As my pregnancy progressed and my weight increased, short runs caused my tootsies to hurt.   I'm talking the kind of hurt you experience 30 miles into a 50 mile run.  Options to deal with this 1) stop running, or 2) suck it up.  I opted for option two.  Again, what better way to learn to deal with something then have it become a constant in your life.
• My labor and delivery was not the magical experience that most moms hope to have, instead it was the horror that I believe most people actually experience.  That being said it provided some solid endurance training.   Are you in pain - yes, is there an end in sight - no, too bad lady keep going!  Oh and everything that can go awry will, deal with it. 
• I anticipated the last few weeks of my pregnancy to be my least active, oh was I ever wrong, it is the six weeks postpartum that I've been ordered to be a couch potato.  I don't do well with sitting around but I realize that recovery will occur that much faster and I can get back to life as I know it if I listen to my doctor.  So, here I sit on my duff practicing patience.  Life doesn't always go they way you plan and you have to roll with the punches. P.S. ask anyone that knows me, patience may be a virtue, but it is one I don't generally practice. 
• Note: yesterday Matt took me into town to run some errands.  We parked the car and walked around.  I was so happy to be out and and about but today I am feeling it.  Lesson learned: don't do too much too soon or you will feel it.
• Sleep deprivation - I feel no explanation is required for this one.  As far as training, this has got to come in handy for the the 100 mile race I hope to do.

But, it is all worth it for this handsome dude:

 

I Don't Fart I Shart

I have been debating how much Jasper stuff would make its way onto this blog.  My initial though was not much since it is a blog focused on our adventures and then I realized I was being dense, this is probably the biggest adventure we have been on to date.

We've now been parents for all of two and a half weeks, that makes us experts, right? Not hardly...  But we have managed to keep the little guy alive and mostly happy thus far so we'll call it a success.  It has not been without its bumps.  In the past week we have experienced circumcision (which we watched, one word - ouch!), diaper rash, being splattered with every bodily fluid Jasper is currently producing, sleepless nights, scream jags, happy baby that is more alert, sleepless nights, weight and height gain, sweet baby cuddles, nursing pains, and have I mentioned sleepless nights?  I had no idea what to expect when this adventure started but I am loving (almost) every moment. 

You may be wondering about the title of this post.  Well, Jasper is a stellar pooper (is he going to read this later and get embarrassed?).  This is what has lead to his poor raw booty but it also has lead to another realization.  In addition to protecting yourself from arching baby pee you also have to look out for the fart because it is so much more, he doesn't fart he shart's and if you aren't careful he will get you with his flying farticles.  Diaper changes in our house are a full on assault. 

Nursery

Matt did an awesome job on the nursery but has decided that he would like a miter saw for future trim work.

Prince Jasper

I woke-up Tuesday morning around 3 am with some cramping.  I couldn't get back to sleep so I lounged in bed and read.  Matt woke-up a few hours later and I mentioned it to him but said I doubted it meant anything since I still had days until my due date and was otherwise feeling good.  None the less he decided that he would stay home from work (just in case) and work on finishing the nursery.  I spent the day working and then ran some errands and Matt and I went out for Indian for dinner.  After dinner Matt was convinced that we should be going to the hospital but I was against it.  I did not want to be the lady who cried labor and then got sent home from the hospital, although I must admit, it was becoming more difficult to ignore the frequency with which my "cramping" was occurring. 

Around 11pm Matt decided that I was going to the hospital, he wasn't having any more of my denial.  Before succumbing to him I called the hospital to get their opinion,  they agreed that we should come in.  We both got packed (none of this being ready at 35 weeks for me) and headed out.  Got to the hospital, they checked me out, told me to walk the halls for an hour, check me again and admitted me. 

Going into this my intention was to not take drugs, however, I acknowledged that all I really cared about is that everyone was happy and healthy in the end - regardless of how we got there.  The nurse checked me out and informed me that baby was sunny side up, hence the horrible labor pains.  I was having back labor since his head was sliding along my spine and pressing on all my nerves as he decended.  I'm not going to lie, the pain was awful but I am stubborn so I declined drugs and continued to walk to halls.  I made it to 8 cm before I gave in and requested the epidural. 

Upon hearing my request the nurse said if I made it this far there really is no need for it now, but I had made up my mind, I wanted it.  Ohy, what a freaking fiasco.  The anesthesiologist came in and proceeded to prep me, an hour and four tries later it was final in.  Did I mention I had to sit hunched over and totally still that entire time while being continually jabbed?  I will take a moment here to say that I absolutely loved the nursing staff that worked with us, the anesthesiologist, not so much.  But once the epidural was in and the medication was coursing through me I was finally able to relax, it was magic.  At that point the nurses helped me shift positions to try and get little man to flip, six hours later and he hadn't budged.  It was at this point that the doctor suggested the c-section since it wasn't looking good for him coming out naturally.  However, he wasn't in any distress so they were in no rush for me to decide an happy to let me labor as long as I liked (have I mentioned how much I liked my labor team?).   Matt and I discussed it a bit and decided that the c-section might be our best bet, I was still in a fair amount of pain and my tolerance for dealing with it was really waning.   

When the doctor came back in I told her our thoughts and she decided we could make one last effort to get him out without surgery - she hooked me up to a massive dose of pitocin to try and force him out.  It sucked, the contractions were so strong and fast that if I wasn't sure about the c-section before I was positive now.  I was ready to be done.  The pitocin did nothing, he was still wedged in the same position.  So, we made the call and the preparations began.  An hour and a half later they were finally ready to wheel me in to the OR.  This is where it gets a little hazy for me. 

I know they brought Matt in and apparently he showed-up on the wrong side of the curtain and got a full on view of my insides being pulled outside.  Next thing I know there was crying and Matt came around the curtain to tell me we had a boy.  After that Matt and Jasper scooted off to take care of newborn matters and they put me back together.  When that was done I was wheeled into the post-op room where I shook uncontrollably and refused to touch my baby because I was petrified I would drop him.  The shakes finally subsided and all my vitals were okay so we were wheeled to our room, the proud parents of a brand new little guy. 

Two days later we finally settled on a name - Jasper Terry Klungle (aka Prince Jasper to the night nurse due to his inconsolable crying). He was born Wednesday, January 30th at 5:36pm, weighed 7lbs 5 oz and was 19" long.