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In Memory of my Great Grandma Doris

August 06, 2010

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Owen's Birth Story

My last post left off with getting an epidural around 1am. We kicked everyone out of our room and tried to catch some sleep. I think I slept for an hour and maybe Jesse 2. From then on we slept in 15 minute increments. At around 3:30am Owen was having some late heart rate decelerations. The nurse decided to check me and I was 7cm dilated. We tried several positions until he was happy with me on my far left side. They inserted a fetal scalp monitor to capture a more consistent heart rate. I was instructed to essentially not move because every time I did his heart rate dropped. To decrease risk of infection I was told I wouldn't be checked again until I felt a change in sensation or pressure. We had high hopes for a delivery soon as with Easton I went from 7cm to delivery in about an hour. My sisters had just gotten home to rest and with the news of 7cm they all headed back worried they would miss it. We all kept thinking that this being my third baby things would go quicker. But w

The Claw

In my years experience as a CNA, I have learned that bariatric patients sometimes require special technique. There are things that can be hard to reach, positions that are unattainable, and movements that can be limited. My first experience with this is when I answered a call light for a CNA that was on lunch. I met a very pleasant bariatric patient that seemed to be in a panic. The first thing he asked, is if I had ever helped him before. "No," I replied. His panic increased. He then proceeded to tell me, that his wife had left momentarily, and usually she does this for him, but he just couldn't wait any longer so I would have to do it. "Okay," I said. "What do you want me to do?" "Do you see that urinal over there? Well grab that. Now... make your hand like a claw ." Already I could tell this wasn't going to be fun. But I got the urinal and kept my face free of any facial expressions, although there were many to suppress. &qu

The Bishop Circus

I have recently come to realize that our life is hectic. And it's all because we have three kids 3 years old and younger. Leaving the house is no longer: have the idea to leave, grab your keys, purse, and go. It's: make sure Owen is fed so I don't have to nurse in the car, dress the kids, brush their teeth, sometimes brush their hair (depends on if it's just Walmart), make Elliott pee, change Easton's diaper, pack snacks, throw in the blankets and the binkies, find shoes (harder than it sounds), buckle the kids in, forget my phone, forget the blanket, forget the ergo, then finally pull out and realize I left the front door open. And don't forget about the diaper bag. I'm always so proud when we're only 5 minutes late. Meal times are no longer at the dining room table, candlelit, perfectly paired with the wine, and spent talking about hopes and dreams. Instead they are most often at the kitchen bar, with everyone eating something different that suits

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In Memory of my Great Grandma Doris

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