As I watch Barhett play and run around our living room, I am still sit in awe that he is here. A year ago yesterday, I woke up at 4 am with awful cramping but didn’t think much of it because the night before I was so nauseous. I went back to bed and struggled with staying asleep because the cramping was on and off the whole morning. You see those next couple of days I had a lot planned; I was planning on getting my hair done, getting my last massage, get a pedicure, and clean the house after Christopher left for his Mexico trip to photograph his last wedding of the season. This momma had no time for what she thought were gas pains. Before I left for my hair appointment, I felt so hungry but nauseous, which was rather frustrating for an almost 38 weeks pregnant person. I told Christopher that I was going to call the doctor on my way to my hair appointment and tell them my symptoms since we were just there the day before. I had started to leak fluid but didn’t think anything of it because when Doctor Durkee checked me, he said we had a while before this kid was coming.

When I started driving to my hair appointment, I made the call, when I told the nurse my symptoms she said, “Well dear, those are signs of labor so let me talk to your doctor and see what he says but make sure your bags are ready to go.” I turned that car around and went straight home to tell Christopher that we might be going to the hospital. We got the call about 20 minutes after I got back, and they told us to go straight to the hospital because they had a room there and ready for us. At this time, I thought I was just experiencing gas pains…every 5-7 minutes….I might have been in denial that maybe they were contractions. The car ride was interesting… and I was still in denial…we got to the hospital and into our room and I started feeling anxious but still in the whole denial phase…then the on-call doctor came in. She told me she was going to check me, so, of course, in Elizabeth fashion, I just start making jokes and talking nonsense until I laughed, and then the gush of water completely happened. So, in other words, ladies, laughing does cause things to happen down there while pregnant…which I will be told not to laugh again later on in this story. Right after the gush, the doctor looked at Christopher and me and said, “Looks like you aren’t going anywhere without a baby.” The panic set in and I could no longer be in denial. My heart broke because I had “ruined” all the plans of Christopher being able to document his friend’s wedding in Mexico and also all of my plans to feel “prepared” for a baby. Christopher went into full planning/almost panic mode to get someone to cover the wedding for him, which he did, and our amazing friend Neil took on the role of being the photographer for that amazing couple! 

Since I was high and closed, but my water broke, they ended up with no choice but to put me on Pitocin or in other words, devils spit that makes you hate life. We started the Pitocin at about 10:30ish am on December 4th. When talking with the doctor, we think my water started leaking around the 4 am wake up I had, so we started to be on a timeline to get this kid out. Lucky for me, I was on antibiotics, so I was allowed to go longer than 24 hours with my water being broken. The first phase of labor was pretty boring.

I was able to talk through contractions and rest. They kept raising that damn devil’s spit, though, and my eyes were getting more and more angry with each push of that button because sadly, I wasn’t progressing. So the dose was going higher and higher, and the contractions were more intense and closer together. I finally asked for the epidural December 5th at 4:30 am. I knew going into getting it that my chances of it working were pretty iffy because of my back surgery I had in 2010. That little metal cage in my back had the potential of blocking the medicine from working, but I took my chances. After the epidural, I was finally able to get a good solid 2-3 hour nap, and then the pains started. The epidural ended up failing as the day went on, I began to feel everything except for a little spot on my leg and a spot on my hip. The contractions were no joke, especially since I wasn’t progressing at all. We were going on over 24 hours since I started contracting and my water breaking, but during that entire time, the baby was doing so well. They ended up doing a monitor on my cervix because they were worried about my contractions not being strong enough even though I was close to the 20s on that devil’s spit machine. 

I was tired, Christopher was tired, but that little baby was doing so well that the doctors and nurses were not concerned one bit, which was comforting but also so frustrating because I just wanted to be done. I begged for a c-section, but since my epidural failed and with the metal, in my back, they were concerned they would have to knock me out completely. I am so thankful that I had Dr. Durkee because he was not about c-sections unless he HAD to. When he came in to check me one of those times he pretty much said to me, “suck it up buttercup, you aren’t getting a c-section.” which at the time I was so angry but looking back I am glad he had the tough love attitude and knew what he was doing. With the epidural not working, I wanted something to at least cut the pain a little bit and let me rest, so I ended up with fentanyl a few times, which the doses were great for 45 minutes and then I was back to being in full labor. I could tell things were different towards the end of my labor because I had this excruciating burning sensation on the top of my belly, almost like I did 200 sit-ups.

I also felt a lot of pressure down below, so I pushed that call button, and my amazing nurse Carley checked me….after hours and hours of not progressing and them increasing the devil’s spit, I was finally at a 9! They called Dr. Durkee, who took what felt like forever to come back to the hospital, and when he got there in Dr. Durkee fashion, he just kept talking while I was trying not to push a baby out! All I wanted to tell him was to stop lollygagging and get this damn baby out of me, haha! I started to push a little after 4:00 pm on December 5th, and with that first push, I did a good job that Dr. Durkee said I should have a baby by 5 pm well Carley because she was the most amazing nurse and cheerleader ever said no it would be 4:45 pm. When I started pushing, all of the pain went away, and I got in the zone. I had a mission and one goal, that was to get this kid out after almost 36 hours since my water broke. I would push and be praised with how awesome of a pusher I was, yay me! I pushed and made jokes until the resident doctor told me I wasn’t allowed to make jokes and laugh because each time I would laugh, I would make it more complicated for them…I never thought I would be told not to laugh while pushing a baby out, but also, who the hell is cracking jokes and laughing while pushing a baby out?

Haha!! I finally pushed that eighth and final push, and this sweet little boy was born December 5th, at 4:43 pm two minutes before the goal time of 4:45 pm. #winning 

When he came out, he had some breathing issues due to swallowing fluid, so the ten minutes after he was born was a little scary, but once they laid him on my chest, his oxygen levels came up. That moment I will forever remember, he knew I was mom, he knew he was safe and in loving arms. While pregnant I had this bond and knew I was a mom, but when they laid him on my chest during that time I felt like I was doing my job as a mother, I was there to protect and comfort. Those 36 hours were a whirlwind, some moments I don’t even remember, but in those 36 hours, I had the most amazing support system, and I knew that this little boy had it too. We weren’t totally sold on a name until we saw his face, and we instantly knew his name was Barhett Wilder. We loved that name and now watching him this last year his name fits him so perfectly. He is strong, brave, constant snuggler, and full of life. That first night in the hospital, all I could do was stare at him, he was so sweet, and I just could not believe he was here. 

He was worth it all.

This past year has gone so quickly, but also there have been slow moments. I had terrible postpartum anxiety for the first seven months; it was the worst right after he was born until four months, I would say. I would look in the mirror and not know who I was; I never struggled with anything like this. I didn’t feel sadness, and I didn’t want to hurt myself or Barhett, but I felt this overwhelming feeling. I can’t describe it because it isn’t the easiest to, but all I can say is it was so awful and frustrating. Breastfeeding was horrible, and everyone I had talked to made it sound so blissful, but it sucked. I felt the pressure to please those around me who told me I had to do it. Please don’t ever say to a mother she has to do something because it is what you did. First off, it isn’t your body, it is hers, and that is her baby as well, not yours.

I didn’t enjoy breastfeeding other than the convenience of it. I was a full-time pumper for eight months straight, which caused a lot of my anxiety because I had to be on a schedule along with trying to run a business and be a mom. There is no book or baby manual, and I learned to never turn to google because google sucked, it makes you worry about everything and anything. With my personality type, I go with the flow and am super spontaneous, so having a strict schedule was so crippling for me because I don’t live life like that at all. So to have such a controlling schedule and then last minute things happening, I ended up with more anxiety, but once I stopped pumping, the anxiety started to get better. I now only get anxiety every so often, and I have found ways to manage it. I know my triggers, and I now know how to work with them. I think postpartum depression and anxiety need to be talked more about, but more on the anxiety part, I didn’t know it was a thing until I read an article, and it hit me in the gut. I read that entire thing and finally felt like I was understood, momma’s you aren’t crazy if you are feeling the overwhelming pressure in your chest or you just can’t respond to that text message because it feels like it is too much. Please talk with someone about it, don’t be embarrassed because so many of us have felt that.

Once I stopped pumping, I felt like I was able to enjoy being a mom more. I didn’t have to walk away 4-6 times a day for a half an hour each time to pump. I was finally able to be fully present in those little moments. 

Now back to Barhett! This last year I have learned patience, I have learned that saying no to a kid who is so damn adorable is super hard and that I have the best partner in parenting I could possibly have. Christopher is such a blessing to my life; he has taught me so much as a mother. Watching him be a father to a teenager, and now a baby has been amazing to watch, he bends and moves so gracefully with each day and moment. God knew when he created Christopher that that man was meant to be a father, and I couldn’t be more proud of being the one standing next to him being there for those moments. One whole year full of very high highs and low lows but at the end of the day, so much joy and love. At times I didn’t feel deserving of Christopher’s love because I felt so lost during the moments of anxiety, he was so gentle with me, and I would not have made it out of some of those moments without him calming me down. Our relationship has grown so much, and we are stronger than we were before. We may not go out as much as we used to, but I have learned to treasure the couch time we have after Bear goes to bed, catching up on our days and watching a show before we want to go to bed at 9 pm. 

This house is full of giggles, pitter-patter feet running around, and lots of wrestling. My heart feels whole and content, my word of the year was contentment, and I feel like that word was pretty fitting for this year. 

I really could not ask for more in life because I have everything I have ever prayed for over and over again. I will forever remember the moment they laid that sweet boy on my chest, and all I could think of was that his hands were so big. Those hands that I pray over the nights I put him to bed that God will lead him to what he is called to do with those chubby hands and those fat little feet. I pray that he will love God in all of his glory and that he will appreciate the guidance that He will give throughout life because, at times, it is hard to comprehend. Those prayers I know God is listening and my heart is at peace.

One year ago, I held that boy in my arms. 

One year ago, I fell more in love with my person. 

One year ago, I looked at a little face and felt unconditional love. 

One year ago, I changed into a better person than I was the day before. 

One year ago, I became a mom.  

Happy First Birthday, my sweet fuzzy-headed monster, my little bear, my bug, my BearBear, my Barhett Wilder, you were the greatest gift God has blessed me with, I love you forever. 

Birth Photography by Cara Peterson Photography

http://www.carapetersonphotography.com

6, 9, and one-year milestones by Dawn Colson Photography

http://www.dawncolsonphotography.com

Mommy and me session by Haley Foster Photography http://www.haleyfosterphotography.com

Lifestyle Newborn session by Jen Sacia Photography http://www.jensacia.com