Bedrest Boutique

Ciao!

2008-02-01T12:39:00.000-08:00

For those of you just tuning it, it was a year ago today that I received my bedrest sentence. I spent a total of 123 days on bedrest, and seven weeks of that time was in the hospital. If you are interested in my bedrest journey then you can start at the beginning of this blog to read all about it. We were very blessed to have had a happy ending at the end of this arduous adventure, and I can attest now that it was only a tiny blip on the radar of life. There were days when it seemed like the time wasn't moving at all, but here we are 8 months later with a happy, healthy, beautiful baby girl. So, keep on keeping on and may God bless you and your family if you are on a similar journey.

For those faithful readers who were along with me for the journey, thank you for all of your kind words and support through out this ordeal. I was very blessed to have such a wonderful, supportive family and network of friends both locally and online. If it weren't for the flood of emails, cards, blog comments, and phone calls, I would have had a totally different experience.

We have had a wacky, fun time trying to adjust to being a family of four, and we are now thriving and well. If you care to continue following our story, then you can find it here on my new blog.

Lastly, I will leave you with a recent photograph of Dylan Grace at 7 1/2 months old.

Ciao, Friends!

Dylan's Arrival Story - Part 2

2008-02-01T10:18:00.000-08:00

So the nurse sent someone to call my doctor. Apparently, he was about 25 minutes away so we were going to have to wait for him. The nurse explained to me that they may have to call the hospitalist in to get started if I were to move any faster or if Dylan were to remain in distress. I was to notify them immediately if I had the sensation of needing to go to the bathroom, and whatever I did I was NOT suppose to push in any way, shape, or form.

I had realized a few minutes before this that the music CD I had made for us to listen to while giving birth was left in the car. I had made a special playlist CD full of songs about daddies/daughters, mommies/daughters, and the special-ness of little girls. I felt very irritated and annoyed, but I couldn't have Jonathan go get it at this point.

I am feeling like I am very, very close at this point. The sensation of the contractions was more intense and more frequent. I could see the nurses continuing to exchange glances as they referenced the monitor for "Hershey's" vitals. There was a definite change in their pace and a tenseness that hadn't been present until now. A sense of urgency was swirling around in the air - I wanted to believe that it was because I was dilating so fast and the doctor wasn't there, yet, I knew in my heart that it was because "Hershey" was going in and out of distress.

Meanwhile, a team of people are hustling and bustling around my room - the overhead, bright lights went on, the medical cart with all the necessary tools came rolling in, my bed got adjusted into the giving birth position, and the clean up crew gloved up. The nurses put me in the proper position and told me that as soon as my doc arrived that we would start pushing right away.

My doctor appeared.

This is it. I felt nervous.

Was I going to have the strength to do this?

This is the moment we had worked so hard to get to these past 4 1/2 months. The anxiety and anticipation were building. I was hoping that it would only be a few good pushes. After all, when Holland was born, my first delivery nurse told me that I was a "good pusher", and it was just 2-3 pushes and her head popped out and then 1-2 more and her body followed.

It's kind of crazy what an epidural can do to your body. One's ability to discriminate between muscle groups is jaded. You aren't able to determine which muscles are being activated so other substances come out of other places! It was time for my first push…..

I pushed, grunted, gritted, pushed some more and I knew immediately I had activated the wrong muscles! I felt something oozing - it was poop. I was totally humiliated. The clean up nurse came right over and cleaned me up. A minute passes. Time to push again.

I pushed, grunted, gritted, and pushed some more.

Guess what? More poop.

I looked at Jonathan and said, “Did I just shit on the table AGAIN?!”

My doctor walked away.

In hindsight, I think he was making a conscious effort to NOT make eye-contact with me. I think this was his way of allowing me to maintain some dignity, however I had already blown that!

Needless to say, my next 2-3 pushes were the same result. Poop and more poop. I could not believe how much poop there was. I guarantee that I hold the "most poop during childbirth" hospital record, and I am sure that the nurses are probably still talking about it. Anyway, I think my doctor was getting a little frustrated at this point so the co-nurse stepped up to the plate at this time and had me change positions (she had to step in because my lead nurse was too mousey!). I had a few more big pushes, more grunts, more gritting and then I felt “Hershey” start to pass through the birth canal.

I heard her cry, but it didn't sound right.

They took her away. My heart sank.

A weird feeling came over me. I had just delivered the baby that I had fought so hard to safely deliver and now she was gone. They didn’t even let me see her. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. I wanted to cry because I was overcome with emotion, but it felt forced. I also wanted to cry because they had taken her away, but for whatever reason, the tears weren’t coming. I think this is the first time in my life that I wasn’t able to cry. It was totally bizarre. I think I expected to have this big, huge, climatic, emotional experience, but it just didn’t happen.

I could here them “working” on her across the room. They were cleaning out her lungs and taking vitals. I heard an occasional muffled cry – it still didn’t sound quite right. I just wanted to see her and hold her and cuddle with her. I kept nudging Jonathan to go look at her, but it seemed like he was a little stand offish. I don’t know if he didn’t want to get in the nurses way or what, but I wanted a full report of what she looked like, smelled like, and felt like. Didn’t he want these things, too? Why wasn’t he crowding the nurses and peeking over their shoulders?

Meanwhile, my doctor is cleaning me up as well as sewing me up. I asked him how many stitches he was putting in, and he responded, “I don’t know, I lost count.”. I just assumed that I had torn pretty bad. He didn’t volunteer any information. It wasn’t until about an hour or two later that the nurse told me that he had done an episiotomy. He was concerned about “Hershey” because the chord was wrapped around her neck so he just wanted to get her out as soon as possible. (Understandably so, but he could have at least told me).

So about an hour went by and then they brought her over to me. I looked at her. I held her. I smelled her.

Nothing. Still no tears.

It almost felt like they had handed me someone else’s baby to hold. There wasn’t an immediate bond. This scared me.

We stayed in the birthing room for another 30-45 minutes and then they wheeled me down the hall to the mother/baby wing. I already mentioned the chiming of the bells and how disappointing that was. I expected to be greeted in the halls with a group of nurses who knew me and my story - A group of nurses with open arms and teary eyes. However, there wasn’t a nurse in sight.

Over the course of the next few hours, I started to feel pain. The site of the episiotomy was very, very painful. It hurt to hold her. It hurt to nurse her. It hurt to sit. It hurt to lay. It hurt to stand. It basically hurt to move even the slightest bit. I was on pain medication, but it seemed to only scratch the surface.

I haven’t even mentioned the name factor, yet. We had no idea what we were going to name her. Elsie Belle. Elsie Marie. Lillian Marie. Lillian Grace. Dylan Grace. Dylan Marie. Lilly. Halle. Hazel. So many choices. We were leaning towards Dylan Grace, Elsie Belle, or Lillian Marie. Hours were passing and still no name, just “Baby Potter” and “Hershey”. Jonathan checked out the little poem about the days of birth, and it said that Sunday’s child was full of grace. That sealed the deal – Dylan Grace it was.

The next 24 hours were very challenging. Jonathan got sick. He had strep throat. He was told to quarantine himself and stay away from the baby. We asked our nurse to ask our doctor and the pediatrician about what we should do, and she looked at me like I was an idiot. She said, “He probably needs to stay away from her and not hold her.” Well, no shit! We were thinking that maybe I needed to stay at the hospital for another day or two so she wouldn’t be exposed to any sort of virus. I had tested positive for some sort of infection that occurs during pregnancy and had already taken antibiotics for it, but we weren’t sure if this meant she was already susceptible or vulnerable to a compromised immune system. We just wanted to be sure we were protecting her. Isn’t that our job as parents?

“Well, you can’t stay here. We have already put in your discharge paperwork, and once you’ve been discharged, you have to leave. Besides if you did stay here, we would move you into a room but you wouldn’t get nurses care.”

Jonathan had already left the hospital at this point – he went home to disinfect everything and to get himself ready for being holed up in the basement. This meant that I was left to feed and care for this baby without any support. I had forgotten how exhausting those first couple of days can be, and I had much more pain to manage than I had when Holland was born. I was in so much pain that I had to have the bitchy nurse change Dylan’s diaper.

The discharge nurse continued to make my life miserable. She didn’t answer my page. She brought my pain medication late. She took hours to follow up with me about a phone call to my pediatrician’s office. She didn’t give me proper self-care instructions for going home. She was in a hurry to get me out of there. Etc.

We had to call a friend to come to the hospital and take me home because Jonathan wasn’t suppose to be around the baby. I couldn’t believe that he wasn’t going to be with me when we brought our baby home. This was extremely hard for me. We had such a long journey to bring Dylan into our lives, and then the climax, the grand finale, the pinnacle never happened. Only disappointment.

When my friend came to get me, I had her wheel me out by the nurses' station in one last attempt to get that joyous celebration from all the nurses. There was one nurse there who happened to be one of my favorites so that was nice. She gave me big congratulatory hugs, and then I heard his voice. Dr. Sunshine was right there in the nurses station. I had the urge to set him straight and finally give him a piece of my mind, but I was afraid I would be too overcome with a hormonal rage that I might get myself in deeper than I really wanted to be!

I had to catch myself to not call him Dr. Sunshine to his face! I said, “Is that Dr. Sun err, I mean Dr. _____?” (I inserted his real name at the time, however I have promptly forgotten it now).

“Hey – you owe me a dance” , I said.

The nurse said, “it’s Ashley Potter, she had her baby.”

He responded, “yeah, I saw your name on the board, and wondered how that happened.” That was another stupid response. Not surprising though.

“I made it to 37 ½ weeks, that’s how that happened.” “And you owe me a dance. You told me that IF I made it to 24 weeks, you would do a dance.”

He didn’t really have a response to this. He looked a little puzzled and slightly embarrassed. He then congratulated me, wished me well, and left.

I got the last word, but it wasn’t totally satisfying. I wish I had given him some constructive criticism on how to not send patients into tailspins, and what not to say to pregnant, hormonal woman who aren’t sure of the outcome of their pregnancy, and how not to bring the big, dark cloud into patients rooms every time he enters, but it just wasn’t the appropriate time. So, we carried onward to the car that was waiting for me outside. Lots of emotions swirling around as we were about to depart.

I had a nurse escorting me out. A different nurse than my bitchy discharge nurse. I think it technically was her job to escort me out, but she kind of knew I didn’t want to spend any more time with her so she had someone else do it. Smart move on her part, except that this nurse turned on me, too.

I had sweet Dylan all swaddled up nice and tight in a blanket. I knew that it was going to be bright outside and very over stimulating with all of the sights and sounds so I made sure to have her nice and cozy so she could feel safe and comfortable. As I was loading her into the car seat, the nurse popped her head into my car. I think she wanted to get a peak at the new baby and wish us well, but her demeanor immediately changed.

“Oh no”, she said. “You can’t take that hospital blanket home with you. We are very short on them.”

And then she did the unthinkable.

She reached further into my car and unwrapped this one-day-old newborn baby from its cozy, safe haven that I had just made sure to put her in. She took the blanket, bid us farewell, and proudly marched right back up to the labor and delivery wing of the hospital.

UNBELIEVABLE.

I stood there dumbfounded as I watched her walk away so proudly. She had just saved another blanket from leaving hospital grounds.

“Ha” I thought to myself. I have two more stuffed away in my hospital bag!

And that is the conclusion to my birth story. My disappointing-less-than-perfect birth story.

Dylan's Arrival Story - Part 1

2007-08-09T19:07:00.000-07:00

Giving birth is miraculous. There is not doubt about that. I don't think you will find a woman on this earth who has given birth that wouldn't attest to its miraculousness. All of our birthing stories are so different. Our experiences are so rich with the sights, sounds, sensations, and emotions that come flooding through.

I have been among different groups of women at different times when the subject of birthing comes up and undoubtedly every woman wants to share her story or stories no matter how old her children are. Giving birth is an experience that unites us even if only for the 5 or 10 minutes that it takes us to tell our part.

I have two wonderful, amazing, beautiful daughters and their birthing stories couldn't be more different. I feel like I need to share Holland's story in order to share Dylan's. It was because of my experience of giving birth to Holland that I was able to formulate my thoughts, my highlights, and even my frustrations about giving birth to Dylan.

When Holland was born, we had the most amazing experience from start to finish. There isn't a thing I would change about the whole pregnancy - not even the gestational diabetes or the 6 week stint with bedrest.

I adored being pregnant.

I loved the way my body changed, the way Jonathan constantly told me how beautiful I was, and the way friends and strangers would frequently inquire about my status. I loved the cute clothes that I splurged on, the pregnancy books,the birthing classes, etc. etc. etc.

I embraced every minute of it.

I loved discovering that the gift of life is so miraculous, amazing, mysterious, life altering, thought provoking, weird, wondrous, and bizarre all at the same time.

I had been on bedrest 7 weeks prior to Holland's arrival. I had one week of freedom from the time my bedrest sentence ended to the time that she was born. The night that I went into labor, I had been having contractions about 3-4 minutes apart for about an hour, and then I got up to go the bathroom and my water broke. I felt a massive gush of fluid come rushing out and crashing to the floor (like a huge water balloon bursting all over the ground). The amount of fluid was unbelievable. Jonathan quickly jumped out of bed, grabbed a couple of towels, realized he needed a dozen more, and then proceeded to do clean up duty as I raced around looking for something else to put on. The adrenaline rush immediately kicked in. This was it! We had no idea what to expect as we forged on to the hospital for the most amazing experience of each of our lives.

We arrived at the hospital at 1:30 a.m and she was born at 4:57 a.m. My labor was so fast that I missed the opportunity for an epidural so she was born all natural. My labor and delivery nurse was a godsend. She was absolutely amazing. My OB-GYN was a master at the fine art of delivering babies. He delivered Holland with such gracefulness and expertise. I had only about 3 pushes and I felt her head slip through the canal and then her body quickly followed. I remember thinking that giving birth was the most exhausting and exhilarating thing I had or would ever experience. I vividly remember this strong urge to climb up on a mountain, beat my chest, and scream to the world, "I am woman!".

Within 5 seconds of delivering Holland, she was on my chest and we were skin to skin. The tears were pouring down my face as I held our sweet baby girl for the first time and stared up at my adoring husband with complete and utter wonderment.

Life has never been the same since.

When we transferred from the delivery room to the mother/baby room, chimes rang through out the hospital informing all that were present that a baby had arrived. I couldn't help but think of "It's a Wonderful Life" and the bells that rang signifying that "an angel had gotten their wings". Holland was our sweet angel and she was receiving her wings as she entered into our world.

By contrast, when we walked down the hall to transfer rooms after Dylan's birth, the nurse took us to the button on the wall that made the chimes ring. She allowed us to push the button for the recorded chimes. This somehow took away from the magic of the experience. I didn't want to see where the chimes came from, I just wanted them to miraculously be chiming as we carried our sweet girl into our room. And what tainted the whole chime thing even more is that when I pushed the button it didn't work the first time. I had to push it again.

So let me backtrack a little bit now. Back to the beginning of Dylan's arrival. I have already mentioned that the two experiences were totally different. I think I must have expected that my experience of Dylan's birth would be equally amazing as my experience of Holland's birth, however that is not the case.

This is really hard for me to write because it involves me coming to terms with the fact that there was disappointment surrounding the whole event-- from the time that I stepped into the hospital to the time that we took Dylan home. I have such a fairytale mentality that I never could have imagined that I could feel this way about a birth of a baby. (This is probably another reason I have been putting off posting this story).

It all started on Saturday evening. We had spent the day at a nearby lake with Jonathan's parents and our niece who had come to visit for the weekend. We were really hoping that this weekend would be the time as we had an instant babysitter for Holland, Jonathan's parents would already be in town (they live 2 hours away), our doctor was on-call, and of course the obvious fact that we were tired of waiting!

At at about 9:45, I was watching T.V and I felt a slight little trickle. I stood up to go investigate and a small leakage of fluid ran down my leg. It wasn't a gush though and it wasn't high volumes of fluid so I wasn't quite sure if I had actually ruptured or not. When I got to the bathroom, there was a slight gush of more fluid and it was all clear so I knew it must be my water breaking. I casually called for Jonathan and told him, "I think it's time". As I changed my clothes, he gathered stuff for his hospital bag -- the hospital bag that I had asked him to pack days in advance!

We went through the emergency room and of course there wasn't a parking place so Jonathan just parked in a fire lane. He hunted down a wheelchair and wheeled me in past various shady looking characters smoking and meandering outside. Someone from ER transported me to L&D as the hospital transportation transporters were backed up for the time being. My disappointment started as we approached the L&D nurses station and I didn't recognize any of the nurses. How could that be? I had lived at the hospital for 7 weeks and knew at least 30-40 different nurses. I thought for sure that I knew most all of them. I had fantasized about having one of the nurses who cared for us during our pre-term labor days continue her care by being part of our delivery team. I longed for the personal embrace, the flooding of tears, and the sincere congratulatory blessing that could only come from a nurse who had been a part of our personal journey.

Upon meeting my nurse, I knew immediately she wasn't going to be of the calibre of the delivery nurse we had when Holland was born. It wasn't so much that she was unlikable, it was more that I knew she wasn't going to meet my needs as a delivery nurse. She was very soft spoken, introverted, and didn't have a "coaching" bone in her body. Or maybe she was just having a bad night. She was rather quiet and reserved. I think I was mostly disappointed that I didn't know her and that she didn't know my story, but I have to confess that I felt annoyed at her basic lack of presence -- and that started the big ball of disappointment rolling.

I started having contractions pretty soon after I got settled into my delivery room. I knew that this would probably be a fairly quick labor based on Holland's delivery and also based on my cervical situation. The nurse had no sense of urgency even after I explained my situation.

Shortly after she "checked" me, the epidural guy came in to talk to me about an epidural. I was at a "4" at that point, and I knew that if I didn't choose right then that it may be too late. I was already experiencing pretty intense contractions and they were about 2 minutes apart. I was so scared that I wasn't going to have the stamina and endurance needed to make this happen the way it should happen. The reality is that in the past 5 months I hadn't exerted any more energy than it took to walk down the hall and read Holland a bedtime story! I was pretty uncomfortable and decided at that point that I was going to "treat myself" to an epidural! And I did!

The epidural was amazing. It took all of the pain out of the contractions but left me with the sensation. I could feel when I was contracting, but didn't have to endure the excruciating pain and discomfort. I could tell that the contractions were getting closer and closer together, but my nurse did not seem to have any sense of urgency as far as "checking" me again. I was monitoring my contractions verbally to Jonathan and she never once inquired about them. I thought it was pretty clear that I was dilating quickly.

Dylan was in slight distress. Her heart rate kept dropping when a contraction would come on. They said it wasn't happening with every contraction and that her heart rate wasn't too, too low, but low enough to be concerned. They made me change positions a few times to try and relieve any pressure that may have been causing the distress. I wasn't able to see the heart monitor, but I saw the exchange of glances between my two nurses that was just as telling as the numbers would have been. I was starting to get nervous, however trying to maintain my composure and manage any anxiety and fear that was creeping in.

After about 45 minutes of this, my nurse decided to "check" me a second time. They had just put an oxygen mask on me so that Dylan could get more oxygen. It was at this point that I began to feel some anxiety. As soon as she "checked" me, her eyes widened and she said, "you are at a 9 .... a 9 1/2, we need to call the doctor".

Stay tuned for part 2

Excuses

2007-08-05T16:53:00.000-07:00

I am writing this post with my tail between my legs as I am so embarrassed and so incredibly sorry that I have neglected my blog for so long. I haven't been very fair to my readers and wouldn't be surprised if all of you have gone blogging elsewhere. I am constantly getting questioned by family and friends about the blog status, and just the other day I received a blog comment, an email, and a phone call all in the same day all regarding my blog! This really made me think about "closure". I need closure on the blog and I think my readers also need closure. So many of you followed my entire journey and then I haven't even delivered the climax, the birth story. LAME.

Believe it or not, I make a "to do" list every day and write my final blog entries is always top on my list, however I have found a ton of reasons to not write and here they are:

Leisure. I have been enjoying sharing my summer maternity leave with my husband's summer off schedule (he has a 10 month contract). When will we ever have a summer off together again?
Ailments. I have had chronic neck pain that flares up when I sit at the computer for longer than 5 minutes. It is a burning, aching, throbbing sensation that brings tears to my eyes. I can only get relief by walking away and changing my position. I also did something to my tail bone while giving birth. My doc said I could have fractured it, but it is hard to actually diagnose. Sitting in a hard chair is excruciating.
Motherhood. Newborns take up a lot of time! Being "on call" 24/7 is very draining and I am often sleep deprived and I don't feel like exerting the mental energy it is going to take to post my closing stories and statements.
Slackness. I haven't finished writing my birth story or my "last encounter with Dr. Sunshine" story.
Selfishness. I will be so sad to write these last posts and close down Bedrest Boutique, and besides that, I haven't thought of a new name for a new blog, yet.

So, there you have it.

Excuses. Excuses. Excuses.

I am sincerely sorry though. I feel like I have let you down as well as let myself down. I do intend to bring closure to my journey though by posting my last posts very, very soon.

If you are still reading, thank you for sticking by me and holding out for the end. I will deliver.

Meet and Greet

2007-06-28T09:27:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone,

I just wanted to check in with you and let you know what we have been up to this last week. I forgot to mention that we are traveling through out the state of Washington on a "meet and greet tour". We have lots of dear family and friends across the whole state, and so we decided to hit the road to introduce them all to our precious Dylan!

Most of these people would have made a trek across the mountains to come to us over the next few weeks and months, but I decided that I wanted us to go to them! I have had a bad case of cabin fever with a huge travel bug on top of it so I was eager to get out and about.

Our stops include: Kennewick, Yakima, Wenatchee, Seattle, Ballard, and Snohomish and then back home again.

So, having said all of that - I may be off the blog for a few more days. I do have partial posts already written though so maybe I will find the time to finish them and post them.

I hope all of you are well!

Ashley

Stay Tuned

2007-06-20T07:25:00.000-07:00

Hi Everyone,

Just wanted to let you all know that I really do have a last encounter with Dr. Sunshine to tell you about as well as Dylan's birth story. I have started writing both of them, but I'm having a hard time completing them.

I think that I have been putting them off because I know that I will probably close down "Bedrest Boutique" shortly after I post them (I won't actually close it down, but I will stop posting to it).

Gosh! I just got teary-eyed writing that.

Sappy. Sappy. Sappy. That's me!

This blog has been such a huge part of my life these last few months, I will be sad to see it go. I do plan on starting another blog, just not sure of its focus. I will keep you posted.

Happy Wednesday to you all!

Wednesday's Picture of the Day

2007-06-20T07:19:00.001-07:00

Fountain Fun
River Front Park

Spokane, WA

Monday's Picture of the Day

2007-06-18T21:32:00.001-07:00

It's a Girl's Name, Too

2007-06-16T01:28:00.000-07:00

[Warning: This entry contains spoilers. If you haven't seen Children of Men yet and you're bothered by spoilers, go out and rent it and watch it before reading this or watching the clip below, which is the final scene of the movie.]

A few weeks ago, we watched a lovely, provocative movie called Children of Men. The movie depicts a time in the near future when the entire human population has inexplicably become infertile. Society has been pitched into despair-laden chaos as a result.

"I can't really remember when I last had any hope, and I certainly can't remember when anyone else did either," the main character, Theo, says. "Because really, since women stopped being able to have babies, what's left to hope for?"

"As the sound of the playgrounds faded, the despair set in," says another character. "Very odd, what happens in a world without children's voices."

A woman named Kee, however, is pregnant. "Your baby is the miracle the whole world has been waiting for," someone says.

So you can see how we might draw some parallels between the message of this movie and our own experience holding out hope for Dylan to make it to term these past few weeks and months.

In the movie it is revealed that Theo had had a son named Dylan who had died in early childhood many years prior. When Kee (with Theo's help) gives birth to a healthy baby girl in the middle of a bombed-out apocalyptic ruins, bullets whizzing all around, she jokes about naming her Bazooka.

But then, in the final scene of the movie, Kee declares: "Dylan. I'll call my baby Dylan. It's a girl's name, too."

That's when Ashley said, "I love Dylan as a girl's name."

In case you were wondering.

Thursday's Amazing Picture of the Day

2007-06-14T14:56:00.000-07:00

Wednesday's Picture of the Day

2007-06-13T16:09:00.001-07:00

Confession

2007-06-12T08:51:00.000-07:00

I have a confession to make to all of you! I have been holding out on sharing some information regarding this new phase of our two-child family status. I think part of the problem is that I am still processing it myself. I am hoping that by disclosing this information through out all of cyberspace that I may come to terms with it. There will be no more denying it because it will be "out there".

I have had extensive conversations with many, many girlfriends over the years about how I would never, NEVER do what Jonathan and I did. I have had a strong conviction for a couple of decades that *this thing that we did* was not an option for us. As we were in the process, I turned to Jonathan and asked him, "What is it going to say about me that I have held this conviction for so, so long and within twenty minutes I am being persuaded to go against what I felt so strongly about?" I just can't believe that we went through with it. I am in complete and utter shock, not to mention major denial.

Jonathan and I bought a minivan.

There.

I said it.

Oh my gosh, I said it.

I think I need to go to some sort of group - the opposite of a 12 step. I need practice saying, "Hi, my name is Ashley. I own a minivan."

(It took everything in my power to type that out and not delete it!)

Now don't get me wrong. I don't want to offend any minivan owners out there. There is no denying that they have come a long, long way over the years. And as far as function, convenience, and kid carrying luxury - they are the way to go. However, I am still having a hard time accepting that this is the phase that we have entered into. I can't wait for the PTA, soccer mom days to come, I just didn't want the minivan stigma to go along with it. And now here I am with the minivan stigma, 3 years earlier than PTA mommy status!

If you are wondering how this came all about then keep on reading! It all started out because I had been researching 7-passenger SUVs for us to upgrade to. We have company in town all the time and oftentimes it is just my mom or just my sister. This means we need one more seat in order for them to ride around with us. It would be ridiculous to drive two cars around for a weekend.

Jonathan has always been anti-SUV but I have always wanted one. I wanted one of the smaller ones though, and recently I discovered that Toyota had added a back row to their Highlander and RAV4 (we are devout Toyota drivers and wanted to stay with them if we could!). So I talked Jonathan into going to the lot with me to "just look". This is all I could convince him to do. As a matter of fact, on the way there, he made it clear to me that he didn't want to talk to a salesperson and he absolutely did not want to "talk numbers".

When we approached the lot, we were immediately greeted by a friendly salesperson. (A friendly, young, hip salesman that holds the record for most minivans sold in a year!) I think they must have all been standing around, saw us coming, pushing our baby stroller, and then had him pounce on us! With a little bit of minivan "convenience" mumbo-jumbo we were a "sure sell".

We started out looking at the Highlander and the RAV4. However, it never dawned on me that in order to get to the back seat you would have to lift the middle seat up. This means the car seats would have to be taken out each time someone would get in or out of the back seat or we would have to put the car seats in the back seat which is just too far away to meet their immediate needs. The inside also felt very cramped, and it would probably be only a matter of minutes before a claustrophobic attack would take place. (My husband, my sister and my mom are all claustrophobic). So, it wasn't long before I realized that these models were not functional and I was still holding fast to my conviction of not wanting to go any bigger in size and smaller in gas mileage, etc.

So, this meant the only option was a test drive of the minivan. Jonathan's whole demeanor changed at this point. He got very enthusiastic about the car buying process. And I on the other hand could not believe I was even considering peering into one much less driving one. I think I ducked down and tried to hide as I was getting into on the off chance that someone I knew would drive by and see me.

Well, the rest is pretty much history. The drive was super smooth, super quiet, and felt super functional. Maybe I was persuaded because it was such a smooth ride and this was the first time I had driven a car since January! The freedom of driving on an open freeway at accelerated speeds was quite refreshing. It probably wouldn't have mattered what I was driving - I would have enjoyed it no matter what!

Needless to say, as we returned the car to the lot, I peaked into the the more luxurious models. Leather interior, sun roof, wood grain paneling, 6 CD changer, DVD player, all-wheel drive, built-in Ipod plug in, dual heating/air control, bun warmers, etc, etc, etc. I quickly decided that IF I was going to be persuaded into making such a life-altering purchase that I was going to do it in style.

So there you have it.

"My name is Ashley. And I am a resigned, reluctant owner of a luxurious (yet functional) minivan".

I'll have to work on saying it without the "resigned", and "reluctant" modifiers, but for now it is where I stand. I am coming out of denial.

Monday's Picture of the Day

2007-06-11T09:19:00.000-07:00

Saturday's Picture of the Day

2007-06-09T23:59:00.000-07:00

Friday's Picture of the Day

2007-06-08T13:39:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone! We are in a state of new baby bliss at our house, and it has definitely taken a toll on our computer time. Hope you can understand! I do plan on posting a birth story, a last encounter with Dr. Sunshine, a few more photos, and some last bedrest boutique reflections. So, stay tuned.

Much love from the Potter household!

Big Sister

2007-06-06T19:26:00.001-07:00

The twinkle in Holland's eye when she is referred to as "big sister" brightens the whole room! She is such a proud big sister. She has adjusted quite well to having a new member to our family, and has been delightful to watch.

When Jonathan and I brought Holland home from the hospital, it was an amazing experience to share. Now that we have brought Dylan home we are sharing the miraculous journey once again, but this time there is a more profound sweet richness because we get to vicariously experience the newness and wonder of a new and much-anticipated baby sister in the life of a three-year-old ("I'm three and a half, Mommy") big sister.

In Daddy's arms

2007-06-04T15:28:00.000-07:00

The Girl Formerly Known as Hershey

2007-06-03T03:53:00.000-07:00

Dylan Grace .... born at 1:24 AM, June 3, 2007; 5 lbs. 12 oz; 19 inches.

The birth of a child is a joyous and solemn occasion in the life of a family. We, Ashley and Jonathan, bid you therefore to join us in giving thanks to Almighty God our heavenly Father, the Lord of all life, for the gift of Dylan Grace to be our daughter and with Holland Olivia for a new sister. Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow!

Sunday's Child

2007-06-03T00:28:00.000-07:00

Ashley's water broke a few hours ago, just a little before ten o'clock, Saturday night. Now we are in the very wee hours of Sunday morning and everything is progressing as it should. We're back at our old home away from home, getting increasingly expectant by the minute.

Yes, we are actually blogging from the delivery room.

It looks like June 3 is the newly revised due date. Stay tuned.

So much for bed rest!

Hodge Podge Post

2007-05-30T15:27:00.000-07:00

I have a few things I have been meaning to report on and follow-up on so I am just going to post them all "hodge podge-ely" in this post:

First, I had my weekly ultrasound and follow-up appointment yesterday and things are progressing right along. Baby Hershey has had a growth spurt to almost 6lbs! We have really been concerned with her growth and my doctor was even considering inducing labor if she were continuing down the "slowed down growth" path. So, Hooray for her! The amniotic fluid and blood pressure in the cord issues have also resolved themselves so that is good news, too! I am swearing by the Gatorade regime that I have put myself on! I read somewhere online that is was a good source for replenishing amniotic fluid, etc. and things have totally turned around since I have been consuming so much of it! I may never know the true answer as to why she has made such great progress, so for now I will give Gatorade all the glory! (and God too, of course!)

Secondly, there are a few people left in the running for the "delivery prediction" contest. My mom guessed tomorrow (the 31st) because there is a full moon so we shall see. Britt guessed June 1st - not sure if there is any significance or personal connection to that date or not. The last two contenders are AngelMeg who had June 6th in honor of her oldest child's birthday, and then my dear friend, Heather is hoping for the 12th which is her birthday. Personally, tomorrow or the next day sound pretty good to me! I'm not sure I want to drag this on until the 6th or 12th - sorry girls! I guess only time will tell though - Good luck to all of you!

Thirdly, oh yeah - I also found out at my doctor's appointment that I am dilated 2cm. So, let the dilation begin..... 8 more cm to go!

Fourthly, thanks for all of the insurance "bill" predictions! I am thinking that the insurance companies are probably pretty thankful that many of you aren't into medical billing due to your astronomical guesses! The actual "bill" to the insurance company is between $155,000-$165,000 for seven weeks of hospital stay. This means Amanda hit it right on the head. She guessed between $150-175,000 based on her experience of a personal hospital stay in 2000. Good Job, Amanda! Thanks again to all of you who participated!

Lastly, I emailed the guy who wrote the article in the Spokesman Review about my blog and asked him if he found my blog randomly or if someone "tipped" him off. He told me that his wife was a featured reporter at the paper and someone had told her about it. So, if you are a friend or co-worker of Frank Sennet's wife and gave her the tip, I would love to know who you are! Are you a friend of mine? A parent of someone my daughter goes to school with? A co-worker of Jonathan's? Just curious!

Hope I am posting about a new baby girl sometime soon.

P.S We decided on a name (FINALLY)..... you have to stay tuned though!

Read All About It - Take 2!

2007-05-29T17:57:00.000-07:00

I just realized that you couldn't actually access the lengthy article that was in our local paper without subscribing to the Spokesman Review. Sorry about that! Here is a cut and paste copy of it:

Spokesman Review, May 28, 2007

By the time you read this, Ashley Potter may have given birth to her second daughter. Why should you care? You'll understand after reading the Spokane speech therapist's Bedrest Boutique blog.

Posting to the site has helped Potter endure nearly four months of bed rest — much of it in the hospital she refers to as Sacred Heart Hotel — by giving voice to her frustrations and fears while keeping her connected with family, friends and online supporters.

Bedrest Boutique illustrates how useful short-term blogs can be for chronicling life's important and memorable moments. It's also a compelling read, a potential resource for other women facing difficult pregnancies and, as Potter put it, "a journal for me to look back on."

After only 20 weeks of pregnancy, she launched the blog Feb. 1 with a post that was no less harrowing for the humor she injected into it. "I got some bad news today at my ultrasound hearing," Potter wrote. "I went in to have some measurements taken, and got sentenced to bedrest at the local prenatal correctional facility (hospital). My initial sentence: charged with a misdemeanor violation of the Incompetent Cervix Rehabilitation Act, found guilty, 3-4 month term in hospital, no chance of parole, no bail."

More details soon emerged. With an abnormally short cervix endangering her pregnancy, Potter had it reinforced with stitches. Combined with bed rest, this cerclage procedure can help prevent midterm miscarriages.

But Potter didn't dwell on the medical particulars. Instead, she detailed the emotional ups and (mostly) downs of having a vital life so suddenly restricted, and for such a scary reason.

In 114 entries over the 111 days until she had her cerclage removed last Tuesday, Potter gave readers regular progress reports on how she was coping with the monotony, boredom, nervousness and sometimes brusque medical care familiar to women in her condition. Husband Jonathan and 3-year-old daughter Holland helped keep her strong.

On Potter's first Sunday in the hospital, Holland said, "I don't want to go to Mass with you, daddy. I just want to stay here with poor old mommy." (Potter later wrote of putting pigtails in Holland's hair, "It's amazing how something so simple can bring such pleasure.")

When Jonathan learned his office was visible from his wife's room, he started turning the lights on and off in greeting. One day he surprised her with a wheelchair-load of scrapbooking supplies.

Connecting to the outside world was important as well. Two readers shared their bed-rest baby stories after Potter put out a call for support on a particularly down day. She also tapped into a network of other women who have gone through high-risk pregnancies at Sidelines.org and even started e-mailing with a June 19 "due-date buddy."

On the other hand, "I don't think I have even picked up a book since the computer was turned on 13 days ago," Potter wrote early on in her ordeal. "I haven't had quiet time to reflect … I never would have thought I would have issues with 'balance' while being laid up in a hospital."

Though they may be time bandits, bed-rest blogs are emerging as a small subset of online pregnancy diaries. Sites similar to Potter's include Blessed with Two, Stop the Ride and Team Menace. Read them if you want inspiring insights into the resiliency of the human spirit.

Drilling Down French Soil, French Soul is another blog by an area woman chronicling an important stage in her life. Carol Price Spurling and her family are leaving Moscow, Idaho, in August to spend a year working on organic farms in Europe.

Spurling, a writer whose work has appeared in The Spokesman-Review, will be sharing many tales of memorable meals if her site's address is any guide. It's gastrosabbatical.blogspot.com.

Read All About It!

2007-05-28T10:10:00.000-07:00

My father-in-law called this morning and asked if I knew I was in the paper. I said, "What?!" He said a friend of his had called him and said there was a story about my blog on page A11 in the Spokane newspaper, The Spokesman Review.

I had no idea what he was talking about and figured it was just part of a listing of local blogs. Nonetheless I sent Jonathan racing out to get a copy of the paper.

Wow!! Correspondent Frank Sennett wrote a lengthy article profiling me and my blog in considerable detail. Just when I was feeling like the bedrest blahs were getting the best of me and sucking the life out of this blog, Mr. Sennett's article comes along and gives me a great boost.

Thank you!

Babies 'R' Us Field Trip Ends in 8-Hour Hospital Visit

2007-05-26T23:59:00.000-07:00

Jonathan here, reporting live from the basement while Ashley and Holland snooze upstairs. (I'm the insomniac of the family and with insomnia comes responsibility for attending to the blog, lest ye readers of Bedrest Boutique worry yourselves.)

We spent a few hours at the hospital again today. All's well, though, and we're back home now. It seems Ashley's cervix is still recovering from the removal of the cerclage last Tuesday -- the stitches that have been denying baby Hershey access to the outside world for the past six months. Ashley was supposed to be remaining horizontal like a bottle of fine wine all weekend, hoping not to go into labor prior to things healing up a bit in the nether regions (yes, "nether regions" is an actual a medical term). In a burst of foolhardiness, however, Ashley decided we should take a field trip to Babies 'R' Us this morning. (How many mothers have gone into labor while shopping there, one wonders.)

She and Holland and I had roamed the aisles for a half hour or so, filling a shopping cart (or buggy, if you're from south of the Mason-Dixon) with baby thingamajigs and whozits and drool-catchers and such, when Ashley abruptly excused herself to the bathroom. Holland and I were trying out a fancy stroller (that's a perambulator for those of you reading from across the pond) with a platform upon which the elder sister may either stand as though piloting a Segway or sit facing the parent in order to converse about important matters of the day. Just when I was remarking to Holland that we should go check on Mommy and make sure baby Hershey wasn't in the process of being born right there in Babies 'R' Us (however appropriate that might be) Ashley reappeared looking wan and hunched over and said, "We need to get to the hospital." So she oozed blood all the way there, which was fairly disconcerting. Beyond that, I will refrain from further description.

Fortunately the grandparents were nearby. They picked up Holland and had a fun afternoon riding the carousel and sliding down the Big Red Wagon slide. Meanwhile Ashley got poked and prodded and observed and monitored in the triage room and then placed in a room just two doors down from our old one. I went home and grabbed some DVDs. We watched three episodes of House and two of Boston Legal, having exhausted Lost and Grey's Anatomy. Boredom and malaise crouched at the door. The clock ticked. The baby within fidgeted and hiccuped. A variety of nurses and a friendly resident doctor with a Beatles song as his cell phone ringtone ambled in from time to time. The conclusion at the end of the day was that that the largish puddle of blood that had oozed from the nether regions had originated from the outside of the cervix, where the stitches were removed of late, and that everything and everyone on the inside was well and good and properly percolating.

The moral of the story: Back to bedrest. Be still. Hurry up and wait. And no more trips to Babies 'R' Us for at least the next week.

Preliminary Hospital Charges (the bill)

2007-05-24T20:17:00.000-07:00

We received a copy in the mail today of the claim that was sent to our insurance company from our hospital.

Who wants to take a stab at the outrageous cost?

7 weeks of around the clock nurse/doctor care, daily prescriptions, weekly ultrasounds, 3 meals and 2 snacks a day, linen service, daily monitoring of myself and baby, cable, wireless Internet, etc.....

Go to comment section and cast your prediction.

Famous Last Words

2007-05-22T15:19:00.000-07:00

Blogging from my hospital bed, once again.

Went in to have my cerclage removed today. Following the procedure, my doctor decided to admit me into the hospital to be monitored "for a few hours." I couldn't help but recall that those were the same words he used when he admitted me into the hospital the last time, which turned out to be for a seven-week stay.

"Will you keep her there overnight?" Jonathan asked.

"Well, we'll see how it goes," was my doctor's noncommittal reply.

UPDATE: Back in bed at home now. (Just seven hours at the hospital this time, instead of seven weeks!) Had some heavy contractions for an hour or so but they subsided. Strict bedrest continues in hopes of a little more growth before birth.