I was just nominated for my first blog award, the Versatile Blogger Award by Joann over at Woman in Real Life! 

As part of my duties for receiving the award here are seven things about myself:

1. If I could have any super power it would be the ability to eat whatever I want and not gain a pound. I don’t want to say Super Metabolism otherwise it just might end up as a Thinner-type situation and that would suck. Heath says that is a lame power but I beg to differ.
2. I have never been to Walt Disney World.
3. I used to have quite a few piercings including my tongue, nipples, cartilage, eyebrows, nose, and three in each ear. I didn’t have them all at once and most of them were removed because my body just didn’t seem to want them and they were always infected. I still have my ears peireced but out of the others my favorite was the tongue peircing. I wish I hadn’t taken it out. The worst? Cartilage for pain (yes, worse than the nipples) and the nose for just the sheer annoyance of it.
4. I hate having a TV and even though I love watching many, many shows I would gladly get rid of it in a heartbeat. But never my Internet.
5. I have been coloring my hair since I was 16 and have been going gray since I was 18. I’ve been blonde, black and red but I love red the best. If it weren’t so expensive and difficult to maintain I would try every color of the rainbow, like so.
6. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever figure out what I want to do with myself and my life.
7. When it comes to  my art sometimes I feel like a Jack of all Mediums, Master of None. I like to dabble in everything!

The pictures below pretty much say it all. We’ve got a sick little babe on our hands. She’s been running a fever since yesterday and when we got to the doctor’s office today it was up to 103.6. She was radiating heat like it was going out of style. Heath even broke a sweat from her snuggling with him.  Turns out that she has pneumonia. The strange thing is that somehow, I just had a feeling, that that was what was wrong with her. Oh, and an ear infection in her right ear.

She is still eating but the only thing we’ve been able to get her to eat is the Plum organic baby food pouches. I love those things, not just for their convenience, they actually taste pretty good too. After the appointment today I dropped off her prescription at the pharmacy and then bought one of every flavor off the shelf. I also picked up generic Pedialyte but she won’t drink it.

She’s basically slept non-stop since we came home this afternoon. I had an art event downtown that I had to attend for work but when I came home we woke her up, fed her a pouch, gave her some milk, and forced down her medicine. She was not feeling the Zithromax. I probably ended up wearing half of it on my shirt, maybe a little in my hair. So this weekend will be spent nursing my baby girl back to health. I am trying to keep my paranoia about something bad happening to her from kicking into overtime. If she’s not feeling better by Monday it’s back to the doctor she goes.

As I type this I am hooked up to a machine at the local blood bank. I used to donate platelets on a regular basis but that stopped around August of last year. I would really like to start donating as much as possible again. They always seem to be in desperate need for platelets and I am both willing and meet the physical requirements to donate. Even though I’ve been stuck with the needle dozens of times I still get a little anxious when they are prepping things.  Now the machine is clicking and whirling away next to me.

Being motivated to make art has taken a noticeable dip since last week. It’s back to the not-so-good old times of being exhausted all the time and running around like crazy trying to get shit done. That I managed to get these little guys  finished makes me happy. Also, the fact that I may have had a revelation as to WHY I am making these is pretty freakin’ priceless. More on that later.

I am also working on some artist trading cards for an event on Friday. Like, tomorrow Friday, and I just started them last night.  Guess what I’ll be doing tonight! I will post  those sometime this weekend.

{3×3}

{4×4}

{4×4}

{4×4}

When I first got pregnant I figured that I would have my baby in a hospital like most people do nowadays. My mother had given birth to two of my siblings at home so I was no stranger to the idea of a home birth but it didn’t really interest me (or Heath).  That changed the day that I went in for my 8-week ultrasound. Some of you may or may not now that when I first found out I was pregnant I was not all that thrilled about it. Looking back on what I was feeling then I know that I was just absolutely terrified out of my mind about the whole prospect. Having a kid is a BIG DEAL!

So that day of the appointment I was extremely nervous and borderline angry. When they called my name to take me back to the ultrasound room I had a panic attack. It was my first panic attack and hopefully my last. It was awful. Really , really awful. The u/s tech had to leave the room so that I could try to calm down. I wanted to run out of that room but felt like I was trapped. I did NOT want to be there but felt like I was being forced to be there. Eventually I calmed down enought to proceed with the ultrasound, but I was not happy. Seeing the little froggy-looking thing didn’t help. When the tech said to me, “There’s the baby..does that help?” I responded with a flat “No.” I’m sure she thought I was a freak. Certainly not the happy emotional I-just-heard-my baby’s-heartbeat-for-the-first-time moment.

Afterwards as we waited to see the midwife I can only describe my feelings as completely and utterly numb about the whole thing. I don’t think Heath knew what to do at this point. Someone must have given the midwife the heads up about what was going on because she didn’t come in the room with a chipper, ‘Congratulations!!‘. She just came in, sat across from me, and asked me how I was feeling. Scared. Not ready. In shock. We discussed getting on some medication for depression and anxiety and how therapy might be a good idea. I eventually did both.

The moment we left that appointment I decided I wanted a home birth. The thought of being in the hospital again did not sit well with me. I continued to have mild anxiety attacks for a few months after that first visit and while I really liked my midwife I didn’t like being in that office. I was probably associating that location with THE panic attack. Whatever reason, it just didn’t sit well with me. Besides the panic attack at the hospital I felt like I could have a little more control over the entire situation (as much as you can in that situation anyway) and, I don’t know, once we got going with the whole thing it just felt right. Even though Heath had said earlier that he wouldn’t be comfortable not being at the hospital he never hesitated when I started talking about the home birth. He was behind me 100% and I really, really appreciated that.

Thankfully the anxiety and depression were pretty much gone by the 7-8 month mark. One little hiccup in the home birth plan was the fact that I tested positive on the Strep B test. I almost didn’t take the test but I eventually did. My midwife at the hospital (I had two midwives, one at the hospital and one for the home birth) really, really wanted me to have the baby at the hospital instead of at home after getting the results. After a lot of discussing things with my home midwife and some research I decided that I would continue with the home birth as planned. I did make the concession to take an antibiotic every four hours during my labor, to ease the mind of hospital midwife. I ended up taking only 1 dose.

Was I scared? No, not really. I just had faith that the whole thing would work out. I trusted that my body would do what it needed to do and I tried to be realistic about the possibility that I may have to go to the hospital if anything came up during labor. My records were forwarded to St. Joe’s and we visited the birthing center, just in case, and we typed out a birth plan. (even though if we’d gone to the hospital more than likely that would have all gone out the window) I feel very lucky that my birth experience was so great (well, as great as being in labor can be). Would I do another home birth? If we happen to decide to have another child (doubtful at this point), I were healthy, and there were no complications, then yes, I would definitely have another home birth. Although, honestly, as good as my birth experience was, the thought of doing that again scares that crap out of me!

P.S. In case you are wondering, having Ruby at home did not save us any money. If I’d had her in the hospital (assuming a vaginal birth) we would have paid $500. Instead we paid $2500 plus $500 for our doula. Spendy,  but worth it. Oh, and about $400 for prenatal massages (from my doula) So, so worth it. Yes, I spoiled myself during my pregnancy.

P.P.S. Since I will be working all day on Tuesdays I will be moving the Artistic Progress posts to Thursday, my new off-to-make-art day.

A friend of mine is due to give birth any minute now. The anticipation has made me think of Ruby’s birth so I thought I would share it with you.

My water broke at 3:30am on December 17th, 2010.

I had gotten up to go to the bathroom and I felt a huge gush of warmth. I paused to make sure I really felt something and then another came. I woke up Heath and we went to the bathroom. I was shaking like crazy, probably a combo of cold and “holy shit this is actually happening.” I hadn’t had any contractions but we called my midwife who said to go back to sleep and call her when contractions were 5-1-1. Heath got me some dry undies and I put on the embarrassingly large overnight pad and went back to bed.

Ha! Like I could go back to sleep! Right. Plus I was pretty sure I was having contractions but they just felt like really, really strong menstrual cramps. We both got out of bed and as soon as I stood up it was like the flood gates had opened. My ginormous pad didn’t help one bit! Heath had to get 2 towels. One for me to wipe off my legs and use to get to the bathroom and one to wipe up the floor. In case you’re wondering: The fluid has no odor but is yellow and kind of thick-ish. And now I know where all my mucus was. But I haven’t seen the plug yet.

We set up camp in the living room. I ate something and started to take my antibiotics ( I had tested positive on the strep B test). We started timing contractions and there were 3 minutes apart and lasting for about 45 seconds (which by the way, it didn’t feel nearly that long, I thought it had been more like 10 seconds). So were were like, “ummmm…..already?” I called my doula and she said that sometimes in early labor the timing of contractions can mimic later stages of labor but since I was talking to her with little trouble it was unlikely that I would be having a baby anytime soon. She told us to stop timing them and to get some rest.

Heath slept on the couch for a few hours while I tried to rest.  Around 6am I woke him up because the contractions felt like they were getting closer together and they were definitely more intense. We started timing again and they were about 2 minutes apart, lasting for about 45 seconds. Heath called our midwife, Sara and she said that she would call back in an hour. In an hour they were two minutes apart and lasted for about 60 seconds so she said she was going to make her way over to the house. We also called our doula and she said she’d be there as soon as she found someone to take her kids (they happened to cancel school that day).

Our original plan had been that once I went into labor we’d blow up the birth pool and start filling it. Once that was done we’d play some Guitar Hero until I couldn’t be distracted by it anymore. Instead, Heath rushed around like a chicken with his head cut off blowing up the pool, playing with the water heater, and filling the pool while I was on the birthing ball timing and breathing through contractions. Eventually my midwife Sara and her assistant Elysse showed up. Sara checked the baby’s heart rate with the doppler and then retreated to the living room. She and Elysse stayed there for the most part, letting me have my privacy in the kitchen. By the time my doula showed up I barely even noticed anyone else’s existence. I remember hearing her voice and the fact that she gave me these very yummy peanut butter/granola/banana balls that she had made. By this point the contractions were 2 minutes apart and lasting for 90 seconds. I called Heath over to me to help me get through the contractions. I didn’t care that the pool was only half full. I was on the exercise ball for a while, then I stood up and leaned onto AH, then we kind of swayed around for a while, then I got down on all fours. I don’t remember any particular position working better for me, the important thing was having contact with Heath. He would tell me, “You’re doing such a good job” or “I love you, you’re doing great” which was helpful.

Even though the birthing pool was ready to go I didn’t want to get in it right away. I had read that if you got into the pool before you were dilated 5cm that it could slow things down. I sure as hell didn’t want that! I basically waited until I couldn’t stand it any more and then got it.  I had no clue what the time was when I got in but when I did, HOLY CRAP it was awesome. Everything went away almost instantly. I drifted in and out of sleep for an unknown amount of time. I felt like I had been drugged. Eventually the intensity increased again and when my midwife came in to check the heart rate I asked her if she had any idea what I might be dilated to. Of course she didn’t and she offered to check me but I said, “If you check me and I am only 2cm or something I am going to cry” because I really would have. She said, “Oh, you’re way past that point.” Thank God. During that time I remember thinking that I totally understood the appeal of an epidural.

Sometime, probably not longer after that I felt something drop and said as much. Apparently this dropping was a good thing because everyone came into the kitchen and sat on the floor. I remember seeing them come in, my midwife hauling her big bag of medical thingys and thinking to myself, “I must be close if they are coming in here. Not much longer now!”  I vaguely remember Sarah and Elysse sitting on the floor knitting (I could hear the needles clicking) and my doula reading a book. Heath was sitting in a chair outside of the pool just kind of looking at me and  holding my hand. I didn’t notice it, but at some point he left to get a book. Suddenly the intensity was bumped up a notch or ten. I yelled out, “Where is he? I need him!” then he knew something was going on. At that point I started pushing. Heath was rubbing my shoulders and talking to me. I got super hot at some point and he was rubbing ice cubes on my neck, shoulders and chest. I was so hot that the cubes would almost instantly melt and I remember thinking to myself, “wow, I must be really hot. Those ice cubes are melting super fast!”

Eventually I switched positions. I had been leaning against the side of the pool with my knees up but switched to kneeling and facing Heath while leaning on the side. This is when the fun really began.

**Danger** Entering TMI territory**

After getting into the kneeling positions things began to get incredibly, incredibly intense. The desire to push was incredibly strong. I didn’t try to stop it which is good because there was no chance of that happening. I was holding onto Heath for dear frickin’ life, so much so that afterwards he told me that it took all of his strength to prevent me from pulling him into the pool. His forearms hurt for 2 days afterwards. Anyway. So I’m pushing, and I’m pushing and then, well, I poop. I looked into the pool and I could see, um, chunks floating around. I saw them and thought, “Huh. I pooped” I almost made a joke about it but then another contraction came and I didn’t care any more.

Everything is kind of blurry at this point I remember going from being panicked to being able to handle the contractions really well and back to panicking. I think I even whined (“I want this to be over”) and cursed (“Get the fuck out already!”). My doula would remind me to make low moaning noises instead of high-pitched ones (to open my pelvis). Heath seemed a little  freaked out. I poo’d again.

At some point my midwife had this mirror thing and was checking to see if she could see the head. At one point she told me to reach down and feel it. So I reach down and I expected that it would be right there but it was still pretty far up there. I said “Well that’s not very inspiring, is it?” Dammit! I was really, really hoping things were a bit further than that! I’d push and I’d feel her come down but then she’d go back up again which  I knew was going to happen but it was SO frustrating.

In total I pushed for just under one hour but it felt like much longer than that. It’s hard to describe what it felt like during that time but I’ll try. The urge to push eventually came so close together and so fast and so frackin’ intense that it was like tidal waves crashing on the shore over and over and over again. I’ll be honest, I screamed louder than I’ve ever screamed in my entire life (I had to use Clorispeptic spray for a few days afterwards). I could hear my doula’s voice trying to be calming (as she took photos) and my midwife telling me to slow down (so I wouldn’t tear) but I swear to God I couldn’t have if I had tried. The “ring of fire” that every book mentions? Let’s just say that if I thought it was intense during the perineal stretches we had done weeks prior or even during the first part of pushing, damn, when her head was actually coming out, holy shit, it was like Dante’s motherflippin’ inferno x 1000 with Habanero sauce thrown in for good measure.

(Oh yeah, and at this point I really wanted to switch positions to squatting, but I couldn’t, my legs had gone completely numb)

When the head came out I could sense all the excitement in the room from everyone. Everyone was all up in my lady business checking things out, Heath was trying to see what was going on. I just kind of sat there leaning on the side of the pool on my knees until my midwife told me to push one more time. I grabbed onto Heath again and pushed. When the rest of the baby came out it was kind of like when the space shuttle takes off and there is that big explosion of fire at the bottom. I felt like everything inside me emptied out as the baby shot out of me. I kind of shuddered from the shock of it.

I think the baby cried? Heath said it did but I really don’t remember that. Everyone was checking it out as I leaned against the side of the pool. Eventually they tried to get me to sit down in the pool so I could see the baby. After all that I just did, the ring of fire, everything, I complained about my legs hurting from being numb for so long, lol. When I sat down they gave me the baby and I took it and held it to me. I didn’t have the emotional feeling that I thought I would when I first held my child. I felt so insanely whacked out and tired. I remember thinking it was so small and the thick, Crisco-like vernix all over the skin was weird. Eventually I asked, “What is it?” they told me they hadn’t looked so I held it up and said, “It’s a girl.” She looked around a lot of and cried a little. Heath was leaning over my shoulder touching her and wondering aloud about how small she was and how strong her grip was on his finger. My midwife put these warm packs in a towel and gave them to me to hold against her, to keep her warm.

At this point I pushed out the placenta which was nothing. We had planned on keeping it attached to her for a bit after she was born so that she could suck up the extra anti-bodies and whatnot. I thought it was funny seeing it float around the pool in my metal mixing bowl. My midwife asked if I wanted to touch it and I was like, “hell yeah!”

After holding her for a while my midwife told me to try to breastfeed her so I pulled my bewb out of my tank top (even though I was in labor I was still self-conscious about being nekkid so I wore a tank top) and tried to get her to suck. She really played with it more than anything. Heath cut the cord and took her from me. My doula helped me get out of the pool and wrapped my bottom half with a big beach towel. I was dripping quite a bit of blood and I was shaking a little bit. We went into the bedroom and I was helped into bed to rest while my midwife and her assistant checked Ruby. I was only half there as they weighed her and measured her. Heath was so exited and eager to help. He put on her very first diaper and dressed her very gently in her first little outfit. I asked how much she weighed and was surprised when they told me she was only 6lbs, 12 oz.

After they were done checking her my midwife came over to see if I had torn and to see if my uterus was shrinking correctly. I was positive I had torn but she examined me and told me I hadn’t. She pressed on my abdomen to feel my uterus and it was contracting nicely. Then Heath brought over Ruby and we sat there and looked at her for a bit. A few minutes later I got up to put on underwear and a pad and comfy pants. When I went out to the living room my midwife’s assistant remarked that I looked like I had just woke up from a nap, not given birth. I was a little tender but I actually felt pretty good, considering what I had just done.

We decided on her name, filled out paper work and about an hour later everyone left. Heath was left to clean up the birthing pool and its contents but I ended up helping him because the sump pump that we’d got to drain things quickly didn’t work. The rest of the day we spent hanging out and letting people know we’d had our little girl. I bled a bunch and the first time that I peed afterwards was an experience all its own. I didn’t even THINK about having to be a little more, uh, tender, than usual. Yee-OUCH!

From water breaking to birth was only just 8.5 hours. I couldn’t believe that! My birth experience was pretty much everything I wanted and I am so, so grateful for it.

In less than 12 hours I will be back at work. I get sucked into black-and-white thinking pretty easily so the past few hours I’ve been a little bitter about  it. So I keep telling myself that it’s only a four hour shift (at least for this week) and that’s it. Then I’m done with that and I get to go have fun in the art world again. I get to work on art-related things and then later tomorrow night I am going to a couple of opening receptions and hanging out with some friends. Focus on the positive, Laurie!

I spent my last free day working on art, having lunch with Heath (Smashing Tomato, yummy!), reading Mockingjay, cooking dinner, and shopping for some new tennis shoes. My old ones are over 4 years old and my toes were starting to peak out the sides not to mention they just weren’t that comfy. I found a pair that are really comfy and I like the color but I feel like a total nerd wearing them!  I don’t usually wear tennies unless I’m going to the gym but I need the extra support for a little while-at least I hope it’s only for a little while. All my cute heels and flats are collecting dust in my closet!

{nerd alert!}

Check this little one out. Isn’t it cute? I hate to use the C word when describing him because I always felt like it and the P word (pretty) were frowned upon in art school. Just have to keep reminding myself that I am not there anymore. I’m sure that some people would use the F word (fluff) to describe this but I’m not concerned with the meaningful content of my work at this point. I just want to MAKE work!

I finished the little guy above and then started on the larger ones below. I think that’s where I got caught up. This one is larger (although not really that big at 8”x8”) and involved a slightly more detailed drawing . I used to be able to look at a Disney character and draw it almost exactly but I haven’t drawn anything besides nudes as of a late and that was already 4 years ago! (unless you count my Draw Something games, hahaha) Since I’m actually pretty pleased with the way the heart turned out I’ve gotten into the mindset of  I can never draw one that looks that good again. It is precious to me! I will get past that though. Especially since I just came up with an idea while typing this post. Win!!

The stomach (12”x12”) isn’t difficult to draw but I have a specific vision for it so I get paralyzed that it won’t be how I envisioned so I just stop working on it all together. Realistically though, it’s not difficult to draw and even if I flub up big time I can re-use the canvas and start again. Sometimes I just need to say things out loud over and over and over again before the logical side of my brain takes over and I can move past my hang-ups

Since I wasn’t making any progress I set the bigger ones aside to do another small one. They take less time so I don’t put that pressure on myself to make it awesome. I usually like the way they turn out through.

I start back at work on Friday but I am feeling motivated to keep moving forward and making time for my art. Hopefully next week I’ll have the heart done. I’m very exited to work on it now! If you haven’t already please head over the my Facebook artists page and “like” it. Thanks! I’d love to hear you thought so, as always, feel free to comment below. Have a great day!

Did everyone have a good Easter? We didn’t get Ruby an Easter basket this year (or last year!). I am still trying to figure out whether or not I feel guilty about that. I DON’T feel guilty because a) she doesn’t need anymore anything b) the best part of the Easter basket (at least to me) is the Reese’s Eggs and she only very, very, very rarely gets any sugary treats, and c) her grandparents bought her a basket and she was only mildly interested in it. I DO feel guilty about it because I felt like I SHOULD get her a basket. I find myself fighting between what I want to do and what I feel I should do, and this applies to a lot of situations in my life besides Easter. When I get into the situation where I feel that nagging “should” I try to stop myself and think of what I really want to do and do that , even if it makes me uncomfortable.

Anyway.

Even if Ruby wasn’t all that interested I thought that these little hippo pj’s were absolutely adorable. She also received her first DVD’s. Heath and I gave ourselves an Easter present of a new dresser. Well, new to us anyway. If I weren’t at a car dealer waiting for my CR-V to get fixed I’d go and take pictures for you. It’s massive and heavy and have some cool….oh, wait…..

Ha ha! I have pics of it on my phone……

UNfortunately there is no way, no matter how many pictures of amazing colored dressers I have shown him, that Heath is going to be cool with my repainting this to say…blue. It was amazing enough that we both liked the same dresser! It still needs a little work as far as the finish goes, the handles need tobe shined up,  and it needs some new bun feet (I just learned this term!) but it will remain brown just perhaps darker. Bummer. Oh well, at least it still has some cool details. And it will be nice to get our clothes out of giant plastic bins. Oh, and we ditched the mirror.

I’ve been boppin’ around without the boot on and off over the past week. My ankle does okay for a little while but after a few hours it it ready to not be walked on anymore. There isn’t really pain involved, just a little discomfort and a lot of stiffness. I’m trying not to be frustrated with the fact that I will probably still be a little while until I’m 100% again. My next (last?) doctors appointment is this Wednesday and then it’s back to work on Friday. Back to getting up at 6am. That my friends, is going to be rough.

I can’t tell if the ‘blah’ that I am feeling right now is from a belly full of Cadbury Mini Eggs (I can’t resist them!) or because I’ve been extremely unproductive this week (in comparison with other weeks) as far as making art. I’ve done only one small collage and some prep work on 2 larger collages since Tuesday. I haven’t been overly busy this past week, just busier than usual with social activities-thrifting on Wednesday, a Date Day with my hubby on Friday, time with the IL’s today. I did work a little at my second job (desk work) on Thursday but that was only for a few hours.

I suppose this is only a hint of what things will be like when I go back to work at first job officially starting this Friday morning. Sigh. It’s been rather nice not struggling to cram everything into my day and failing miserably at it. As Friday draws closer I know that first job isn’t what I want to do anymore and I’d honestly feel kind of okay with leaving it at this point. It’s been so good to me  and I’d miss a lot of people (not that I couldn’t ever see them again) but I am just ready to move on. More than likely though I’ll start back, realize how much I’ve missed it, get back into my comfortable little groove, and then not be so sure about whether or not I want to/should leave. The same battle I’ve had for years now.

Blah.

Okay, I need to STOP feeling sorry for myself/nauseous right now, suck it up, and get back to work. Sitting here holding my stomach while browsing the Internet, no matter how fun (the Internet part, at least), isn’t going to help me get any closer to my goal of becoming a working artist.

I was finally able to get out and do some thrifting with a couple of my friends yesterday. Besides the items pictured below I was able to get 2 dresses, 2 tops, a skirt, and pair of leggings for Ruby at the Salvation Army for only $5 (the local SA has 50% off clothing on Wednesdays. WIN!) I also added to my mirror collection and will be covering up the offensive (to me) gold in the coming weeks. I had such a great time. It was SO NICE to be out and about again. Even if my foot was not too pleased with me by the end of the day it was totally worth it.

{I have no idea what little jar is for…creamer? juice? salad dressing? But I thought it was cute, especially for only $2.}

{metal file, only $6! This will tide me over until I discover my ultimate find, an old library card catalog.}

{I’ve been watching several auctions for letter press on eBay but most in this size (about 6″) are going for around $15-20 plus shipping. I had already checked out and was waiting for my friends when this caught my eye. I almost dropped the f-bomb, which I am sure would have shocked the sweet clerk behind the counter at Feather Your Nest, hahaha. I love that you can see the carving marks on the block and it’s still a little grungy. $8}

{Oliver seems okay with this $6 chair the way it is but I’ll be giving it a little makeover. I’m not sure if I will paint it, the finish is in great shape, but it will definitely be getting some new fabric on the cushion.}

{More vintage books for collages. The atlas was only $3 and the decorating book, from 1954, only $2.}

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