Year in Review

The past 15 months have gone by very quickly and have been filled with many priceless moments!  Here’s a brief year-in-review to get you caught up before we move onto sharing our latest videos.

May 2010 - She actually used to sleep..?

Summer 2010 - Eden was introduced to her local beach (for the 1st time outside of the womb)

September 2010 - She helped her daddy kick off his 30th bday with a rainy morning trip to the beach to surf and watch dolphins play in the waves.

At Halloween, Eden was the perfect accessory to the creepy football coach hitting on the young cheerleader.

November - She had her 1st taste of life outside of breastmilk!

On Christmas day, she had a blast ripping into presents at our house, and then she got to load up and make the rounds for Christmas with both sets of grandparents, as well as aunts, uncles, cousins, great-granny, great uncle.....She was a lucky girl.

February was a big month, with sippy cup skills AND crawling skills added to the list!

The next few months were filled with lots of playing: with everything from musical instruments to dirt.  And now that it's summer: playing in the WATER! 

This is just a tiny snapshot of Eden's first year of life. We promise to post more soon so we can share the latest happennings (Eden's first steps...) with those of you who live far away.

Hope everyone's doing well!

wonderfully uneventful

One month ago, all of the experiences mentioned in the previous blogs began to fade away drastically. Life began to take on new meaning. Self-survival instincts started taking a backseat to protective instincts. The light and dark that distinguish night and day began to mesh into one 24-hour period with a few small naps here-and-there. Two sets of parents…or grandparents…began having no shame as they came up with all sorts of excuses to “drop something by” our house. The desire for cable service began to be replaced by the desire to sit on the couch and stare at a small 6lb ball of entertainment. One month ago, Eden Elaine Rayburn was born.

My labor was the most wonderfully uneventful process. I mean, there’s probably nothing more eventful than bringing new life into the world, but after the events of the past 6 weeks, I never could have dreamed that we’d get to drive only 5 miles down the road to the local hospital, have a “normal” delivery surrounded by our loving families, and head right back home in 24 hours with a perfect, healthy baby girl.

Before leaving Texas Woman’s Hospital, we were faced with a pretty big decision. I had been taken off the anti-contraction meds, and I had been through a little physical therapy to start the process of retraining my body to live in an upright position. After a couple days of this, though, I was still contracting at the same rate. I had made it to my goal of 37 weeks with the pregnancy, and the baby seemed to still be doing well, so the doctors gave me the choice of inducing or going home. David and I went back and forth with the decision because there were many pros and cons to each choice. Finally, it came down to the fact that most of the pros that were strictly in the baby’s favor (as opposed to the favor of my or our comfort level) led us to choose to go home. So, we packed up the massive amounts of stuff I had accumulated in that room over the previous 37 days and made the drive back down to Lake Jackson.

I waddled around our new house in LJ for 3 days with a baby sitting in the “go” position and with fluid-filled legs that were majorly sore from finally walking again. Sunday morning, my water broke. From that moment on, it was as if I had a “normal” pregnancy. All I can remember is standing there in my puddle in the kitchen as David ran around the house gathering stuff to go to the hospital (as if we hadn’t been sitting around for 6 weeks waiting for this to happen), and I kept repeating with a huge smile, “We get to see her today! We get to see her!” We’ve gotten to see her every day since then, and it just doesn’t get old!

David and I are both self-proclaimed adventure-seekers. We talk all the time of traveling and where we’d like to go next. We both agree, however, that becoming parents is a far greater adventure than any trip we could ever take. What a blessing it is to find pure contentment here…in the town we both grew up in…doing things like taking walks to the park for a picnic or simply enjoying sitting around home drinking coffee and watching Eden sleep.

I’m positive that I’ll never be able to express how thankful I am to the many people that helped me through all of this. A written or spoken “thank-you” doesn’t come close to holding the weight of the gratitude I have for the team of doctors that gave us a healthy, chubby baby….the nurses that made me as comfortable as possible during the moments I thought I’d never again get to join the world of independent people….. my husband who would look over at me from the couch in room 3040 and somehow make me believe he thought I was beautiful while lying there feeling the most un-beautiful I ever have…..my family that instinctively sacrificed in so many ways to help me through this….. and all the other family members and friends and friends of friends that came to visit or mailed packages or texted an encouraging word. All of this meant so much, and the baby that’s sleeping in my lap as I write is the greatest example of the power of love and prayer….and maybe a little bit of medical expertise as well.

One month ago our lives changed forever. For the better.

more pics to come soon at http://www.printsintime.com/

22 Days & Holding

Twenty-two days ago when I was admitted to the hospital, I never imagined that I’d be in the same bed this many days later! However, the fact that I AM in the same bed 22 days later is an incredible blessing.

Today, as my new jello-like bedrest body was feeling achy and I was having trouble getting comfortable in the bed (imagine that…), David & my mom reminded me that whether I deliver tomorrow or a few weeks from now, I’ve already won the fight. The baby is already in much better shape than when we first got to the hospital. I truly don’t know how people without faith carry on in tough situations. It’s an understatement to say that being able to place this matter in God’s hands is a relief. I can’t say that each day has been filled with unicorns and rainbows, but I CAN say that each day I feel God’s presence helping me persevere. I also see God in the people that are helping me daily….okay minutely….but that’s a whole other blog post!

My main purpose in this post is to give a little update on the past few days. Perhaps our best news came last Wednesday when the doctor scanned me (apparently up here they refer to ultrasounds as scans). I can’t explain the warm feeling that came from seeing our little girl looking happy & healthy & doing some leg kicks. We got to watch her do a set of 5 that were straight from a Jane Fonda video, except she’s a little less modest & has no need for leg warmers and leotards. Yes, the fetus inside me is clearly getting significantly more exercise than me these days! We also saw the best view of her face we’ve ever seen. We got to watch her open her eyes & blink, and she even opened & shut her mouth while we were watching. David & I have already decided she’s pretty much the cutest baby we’ve ever seen.

I’ll resist giving more ultrasound play-by-play...But the point is that we got a wonderful report from the doctor that the baby has grown & gained weight over the past 22 days, & that everything going on in the womb implies that she’s happy & healthy & continuing to develop. There’s no word on if I’ve dilated any more (nobody is going to check that w/a 10-foot pole for fear of really kicking labor into gear), but all amniotic fluid, etc is present in the womb, so nothing TOO major has happened.

My monitoring sessions, now decreased to only 30minutes 3times/day, show that I have anywhere from 0 to 3 contractions in that 30minute time slot. I’m usually not feeling them, though, so I’m told that is an optimistic sign that nothing is really happening to my cervix with each contraction. I’ve been given the list of symptoms that warrant calling the nurse because it may be “time.”

Each morning a doctor visits my room. I’m happy to say that I’ve graduated from bedside chats during which the latest decisions regarding my care are shared with me, my questions are answered, and possibly tears are shed (we’ll blame those crazy pregnancy hormones!)….to the doctor peeking inside my door, asking if everything’s still going okay, then telling me to have a good day.

We’re operating on the “no news is good news” principle at this point. I’m going to keep reminding myself that I’ve already won the fight, keep thanking God for what he’s doing in me and what he’s shown me through the wonderful family and friends that surround me, and try for another 22 days…one day at a time.

Daddy's girls

It's been hard to organize my thoughts as of late. My mind darts from place to place in fear of being chased by something that has yet to be identified. To call this feeling worry doesn't do much justice to my current state because it's far greater and immensely more beautiful than anything with such a negative connotation. I'm elated... the joy that fills my heart when I dream of that little blue eyed bundle with my namesake is a mystical secret that can only be described by the love that I feel for the only other girl that has sabotaged my heart.

For the past two weeks the best part of my day is sitting with my girls on a strangely comfortable hospital bench, finally safe, lost in the rhythm of a strong heartbeat and the image of building sandcastles with a tiny bathing beauty in whose eyes I do no wrong. I wrap her up, melted by her salty kisses and pass her to mommy... she sleeps in her shade. I sit with pride and observe the miracle of where she is, where she began and where she will always want to be.

Creating life is such a miracle, one that I wish I could say I played a greater part in. My job was easy and rather fun :) Hardly the arduous task of supporting a parasite for 8 months, or seeing the outside world only through a window, on your back, during a seemingly endless hospital stay. The payday for this 24 hour job is pain that I never hope to draw comparison to.
Through this process I have determined that we men are by far the inferior species. Nature suggests that we are necessary, but I'm convinced that our main function is support, not always an easy pill to swallow. My peace lies in the confidence that I have in my girls, in the resilience of my wife and the resolve of my daughter and I know that our day in the sun will arrive. In the meantime, I wait... uneasy and impatient, not exactly what a man is supposed to do. I'm learning.

A Mother's Love

“I think you’re really beginning to understand a mother’s love. I know you knew it but now you feel it as well.”

Those are the words that my mom texted to me a couple days into my hospital stay. It’s true – I’m feeling all sorts of new things that I never have before. It’s beautiful and scary all at the same time. Ten or so days ago when I was feeling worse physically than I ever have in my life, ALL I could pray was, “God, please wrap your hands around this baby girl & keep her safe from all of this. Don’t let her feel what I’m feeling now.”

Now, as I’m feeling much better, it’s amazing how every day I spend in this bed….every time all modesty escapes me during a bed bath from the nurse techs…..every time all humiliation sets up camp in the female urinals and/or the bedpan next to my bed…..every time I feel one more muscle fiber waste away (today marks day 15 that my feet haven’t touched the ground!)…..every time I realize that more food makes it onto my chest and belly than into my mouth as I attempt to eat in a reclined position ….every time I catch an glimpse of this unfortunate bed-head hair in a mirror…..the ONLY thing that truly matters is that my innocent baby is healthy, comfortable, and growing daily in my belly. Each day that I spend here is possibly one more day that she doesn’t have to spend here in the NICU or the nursery.

I believe that God puts this matchless love referred to as “a mother’s love” inside of each of us at just the right time. If He had accidentally missed me, or perhaps as a supplement to this natural feeling, I’m comfortable knowing that I’ve had a uncommonly wonderful teacher. I won’t even go into the things my mom has done for me since I’ve been in this hospital (that she probably thought she was done doing by the time I turned 1-year-old or so)….On top of that, I’m quite certain that on any given day she could’ve gotten no sleep, had some type of fender-bender on the way to the hospital, been diagnosed with some rare illness, spilled a hot drink all over herself, been bitten by a dog on the walk into the hospital, and more, but when she arrived in room 3040 she’d put on a smile and say, “Hey, how are you feeling? What can I do for you? Everything’s just fine with me!” and I’d never know what she’d been through that morning.

When I was a little girl in Sunday School at First Baptist Church Lake Jackson, I remember the teacher saying to us, “You know how much your parents love you? Well, Jesus loves you even more than that!” Just as if it were yesterday, I very clearly remember thinking, “Hmm, that’s a really nice thought, lady, but I don’t think you really know how much MY parents love me! I’m just not sure what you say is possible.” What a lucky girl I am that the concept my teacher spoke of was difficult for me to grasp.

Could I really be starting to feel myself pass on that same type of motherly love?

How I Got To Room 3040

At about 1am on Monday 3/15, David & I rushed to the ER at Brazosport Regional when I started having signs of pre-term labor. They immediately put me on the monitor to make sure the baby was okay, and the sound of her heartbeat (mixed with the sound of a case of the cutest baby hiccups) was the most beautiful sound we could imagine at that moment. The rest of the morning, however, was filled with more unpleasant sounds, such as that of IVs being hooked up, my doctor reporting on how far along in labor I had gotten, and sirens blaring as I was taken by ambulance to The Woman’s Hospital of Texas.

I was admitted to Labor and Delivery Room 10 at The Woman’s Hospital with the hope that I can hold off on delivery for a while. This hospital’s NICU has a wonderful reputation, though, so I’m in the right spot to be prepared for anything. With a few different types of medication, the doctors were able to get the contractions under control.

The next obstacle came just a couple days into my stay when one of the IV medications (magnesium sulfate) reached toxic levels in my system. That caused quite the scary & unpleasant reaction in my body! I was quickly taken off of that medicine and given oxygen support as well as a diuretic to help get the fluid out of my lungs, etc. The doctors said that delivering early would be less of a risk than what that medicine was doing to me.

Since then, I’ve been on only one medication to stop contractions, and it appears to be doing some good. I’m still having contractions, but I don’t feel them when I do have them. I’m now in Antepartum Room 3040 and things have slowed down significantly. Since I’ve already progressed in labor, the doctors want me on complete bedrest, meaning I eat, bathe, and use the restroom all in the same hospital bed….a not-so-lovely concept, but a small price to pay for a healthy baby girl! The journey to room 3040 was unpleasant and unexpected, but now that I’m here I hope to stay for a while.

The View From Room 3040

It looks like it's going to be a bright, bright sunshiney day. I'll never forget the feeling of being woken up by the words of that song in Jamaica. David and I were on our honeymoon and one morning, those words came riding along the perfect ocean breeze that floated through our balcony doors. We stepped out onto the balcony and the picture at the top of this blog homepage is what we saw. That day ended up being one of my top ten brightest.

As I write now, I can tell you that the outlook is still sunny. Although the sun hasn’t yet risen outside my window here in hospital room 3040… no Jamaican guys with captivating voices outside….no ocean breeze (or fresh air for that matter!) drifting in….no warm sand or gentle waves just a few feet away; The events of the past 12 days have helped me to focus on the sunshine that comes from within as well as the sunshine that other people bring. This sunshine can be more powerful than the 10,000 degree sun.

(The smaller picture above shows one of our frequent views here in room 3040: We catch ourselves staring at the computer screen that shows the results of the monitors that keep track of my contractions as well as the baby's heart rate. In the other pic, I'm rubbing on belly butter while David gives me a foot rub....can't complain!)