Owen Jacob Odell- Birth Story

So having a baby literally leaves you with no time! I hate that it has taken me SO long to write this, but here is our baby's birth story :)

                Owen was due Sunday the 2^nd, so I was getting pretty anxious to have a baby, but I was also doing my best to be very patient. That baby was going to come when it was ready. The midwife I was seeing wasn't going to talk about induction until the next week, but suggested stripping my membranes. It sounded harmless and like a natural enough of a process that I consented. I went in for an appointment to strip my membranes Wednesday morning April 5th. It was uncomfortable, but not as painful as I had expected. I left the office that morning feeling like I was cramping for my period, and that pain didn't go away all day. Around 1:00 I went to get a pedicure (I deserved to treat myself a little, right?), and was starting to feel slightly painful contractions but I wasn't timing them- they were maybe 20ish minutes apart and not extremely consistent. They weren't killing me and I could ignore them for the most part. I was getting excited but I wasn't keeping my hopes up. I went to a friend's house to hang out, went grocery shopping, and then went home to make dinner. I made dinner and it helped to walk around and take my mind of off the contractions. As we were eating, around 5:30, they were feeling consistent and strong (but still just dull pain in my lower back that I could mostly ignore), so I decided to start timing them. 30 sec long, 3.5 minutes apart.

                Greg and I cleaned up dinner and sat down to watch Cinderella (live action). I was uncomfortable from the contractions and the increasing pain in my lower back, so I was shifting around a lot. I bounced on a yoga ball, and I stood and swayed. I decided that I hated the pedicure I had gotten that afternoon, so I asked greg to remove it for me- but I was in enough pain that I didn't want to sit, so I stood and swayed while he sat on the ground and took off the polish. What a champ.

                I then moved to the shower to help relax and relieve pain, and the hot water and pressure on my lower back felt incredible! I literally stayed there until we ran out of hot water. Greg came in to bring me water at one point and found me on all fours with my head sticking out the side of the tub so I could breathe and the water could still soothe my back. I then moved to the bed and labored there for a little while. Around 9:00 I timed contractions again and at this point they were about a minute long, and 2.5 minutes apart. And they HURT! I was laying on the bed, breathing and moaning through contractions. I tried listening to my hypno babies track to help me relax, but her voice mostly just annoyed me. Greg started loading the car while I labored, and by 9:45 we headed to the hospital.

                I remember being in the car and between contractions wanting Gregory to drive as fast as possible… and during them I was bracing against the roof of the car trying not to feel every bump and rail road track we crossed. Upon arrival, I got out of the car and I felt like I was hardly getting a break between contractions. They were coming hard and fast, and the pain in my lower back was intense. I made it almost to the door and doubled over in pain. A stranger offered to park our car, and I gladly accepted. He also grabbed me a wheelchair and Greg quickly took me to the third floor. I was worried that they would need to check my first before I was admitted, but I was in tears, and later was told that they could tell I was in real labor, and they admitted me right away. I was SO grateful.

                I wanted a natural labor, but once at the hospital I was desperate for some pain relief, my back labor was awful. I was dilated to a 4 (I had been a 3 for a week already and was REALLY hoping to have progressed more by that point), and 100% effaced. I had an epidural by just after 11:00 (at which point I was now dilated to a 6), and my sense of time from here on out disappears. I was able to get some rest before Owen came which was a huge relief. We both got some sleep despite the adrenaline, and the nurses came in a few times to flip me over. I could still feel some pain and pressure on my right side, though it was mostly just annoying. Nothing too painful or worth worrying about.

                At one point, though I was numb, I thought I could feel something leaking and wondered if my water had broken. A nurse came to check and just let me know that my mucus plug had come out. So no baby yet, but one step closer! The nurse told me that my water would most likely break on its own in the next hour. Just a little while after that I felt something leaking again, and hoped it was my water. I reached down with my hand to make sure I wasn't going crazy, and touched what felt like a small water balloon coming out of me! The first nurse came in and didn't know what to do, so the charge nurse came in to take a look. Apparently my water HAD broken, but the sac had broken at the top, so the water was leaking out internally. What I felt, was some fluid still in the sac, and the bottom of the sac still intact, coming out of me. It was so strange! The nurse pulled the rest of the sac right out, and said that we were still just waiting for baby's head to come down a little farther until we could push.

                A while later we tried pushing, but there was little progress, so we decided to let the baby 'labor down' for another 30 minutes before we tried to push again. When it came time to push consistently, I was very excited and very exhausted. Even though I couldn't feel the pain it was more work than I anticipated. The time went by very quickly, but I imagine I pushed for about an hour. The epidural that I had was perfect- I couldn't feel any pain, but I could feel pressure. I was able to tell when a contraction was coming seconds before the monitor could pick it up, so I was prepared to push. Having Gregory there was immense help. He held my hand, fed me huckleberry ice chips, and encouraged me the entire time. Every time he could see the baby's head come out a little more I could see it on his face and it gave me some serious motivation. A couple times, as the baby's head was crowning, I was able to reach down and touch his head. A baby was really coming out of me!! I pushed hard. I developed a slight fever and some nausea from the work, though neither was problematic. In fact, the final push that got Owen out was from me throwing up…

                When they told me it was a boy I couldn't believe it… I had been so convinced for 9 months that I was having a girl. The cord was wrapped around his neck once, but it was quickly resolved. They placed his beautiful, wrinkled, blue little body on me, and I was overcome with such love.

                He was perfect. 

                Owen Jacob Odell was born Thursday, April 6, 2017 at 3:58 am. He weighted 8lbs 11oz, and was 21.5 inches long. Healthy as could be and the light of our lives!

Dear Failure,

If you're reading this, that means you. I don't mean to sound harsh, but it's the reality of life.
You are a failure- and that's a good thing!

I was reading my Mom's blog this morning, and This Post really struck me. She writes about how she didn't realize how tough she was until she accomplished a half marathon. She also realized how not just physically, but mentally, there was a lot of work that went into reaching that accomplishment.

We hear that 'you are tougher than you think' and 'you can do hard things'. And I believe firmly that we are and that we can! Our bodies and our minds are capable of some seriously incredible tasks! People run distances I can't fathom running, make technological advances my brain can't begin to understand, and so much more. I am currently working towards a goal of birthing my first child naturally in a couple months- something that my body is built to do, which I find simply amazing!

But something that I want to make sure we get a grasp on, is that these 'hard things' don't take place immediately. My body is capable of birthing a baby without medication (and probably running a half marathon too), but not now. I need to study, mentally prepare, and do physical exercises to prepare my body and brain to accomplish this daunting task. Doing hard things, means work- and time, and effort, and sacrifice, and more work.

Doing hard things means progression.

When you were born, could you have fathomed it, running would have seemed really difficult- that's why you rolled, then scooted, then crawled, stood, walked, fell a lot, and eventually after a long time and a lot of failing, you were able to run. It works the same in adulthood- your body isn't going to just run a marathon or birth a baby or create the newest technological invention today. But after a lot of work, and lots of small steps, and lots of failing, You. Are. Capable.

So get started! Dream BIG and do HARD THINGS. Don't be afraid to start and don't be afraid to fail, because when you finally finish and look back, you will be amazed at the ground that you have covered and everything you have accomplished, despite your failures! You CAN do hard things. And you CAN do more than you think you are capable of. Just don't consider yourself completely inadequate when those things don't happen as soon as you hope and expect. Small failures are good things, but they don't define your character as a whole.

"The discipline you learn and character you build from setting and achieving a goal can be more valuable than the achievement of the goal itself."

-Bo Bennett

Sincerely,
A Fellow Failure

Blueprints

I used to think that I wanted to know what was going to happen in my life. I pictured God sitting upstairs with the blueprints of my life, and I just wanted him to give me a little glimpse. I knew that I had my own choices, of course, but I also knew that God would guide me, and I just wanted a copy of my script- just the outline.

Who would I marry? How many times would my heart be broken first before I met 'the one'? How long would I stay best friends with my best friends? Would I graduate single? What would I do for work? Would I ever have my own kids? Where would I settle down?

But mostly the one the plagued me was who would I marry, and when? I was willing to be patient until he showed up, but I wanted a time frame. The waiting was killing me.

A few months ago I hit my anniversary of being home from my mission for 2 years. It feels like forever and not that long at the same time. But I was thinking about where I am now, and if I would believe it if I had known this 2 years ago. What would have happened if I came home from my mission and been told, "Hey just so you know, in 2 years from now you will have graduated from BYUI with a degree in communications, still be in Rexburg, married to Gregory Odell, and pregnant."

I would have scoffed.

Married to a friend I had known for years (and the younger brother of an old crush no less)? Still in Rexburg and preparing to have a baby? That blueprint seemed impossible to me. It wasn't what I wanted or expected originally, but it has clearly been the best parts of my life. God really did know what he was doing the entire time.

Waiting is really hard. It takes a lot of trust, and patience, and hard work. MY original blueprint included me going to school and getting married just before I was 21. But I didn't know or understand the beauty of the lessons that I needed to learn by dating other guys, or waiting a few more years before I got married. I had no idea that I needed a mission to mold me into the woman that could be more confident in her own testimony and her own skin. I had to learn hard lessons about responsibility and commitment. I had to learn lessons that hurt, and I had to have my heart broken a few times- and heaven knows I didn't have heart breaks in MY blueprint. But God knew. He knew that I needed to break all of my dating rules, I needed to have my heart broken, and I needed to serve a mission. He knew that I needed Rexburg and the support group that I found there. He knew that I needed trials to help me grow in ways that I would not have chosen.

So then, how beautiful is it that we don't know. God knows so much better than we do about what we need. He understands what we want, but then if we let Him, He takes us a step further and gives us what we need. I am working harder every day to embrace God's blueprint for my life, because that is the one that is going to make me truly happy- none of this temporary jazz that doesn't last. When we follow His plan, He gives us happiness that lasts forever.

That is the blue print I want, no matter how hard it is.

What is America?

We had the presidential election yesterday. Donald Trump has been elected as the new president of the United States. It feels so unreal, but I am so glad that the majority of the political mess and banter seems to be over with. So many seem to be hurting today because Trump won- but it would be the same if Clinton had won too. Our country is so divided, and it is awful to try and talk to anyone about it anymore.

Part of what hurts me so much are the absolutes that everyone seems to deal in. 'The other side is wrong because of this, or their side is wrong because of that. All Clinton supporters are liars, or all Trump supporters are racists and bigots'. Nobody gives anyone a chance to tell their side anymore. We blame each other, and assume that our position is right (because we researched it of course), without ever taking the time to sit down and really understand what the person on the other side of that comment is thinking and feeling- what that human being might be emotionally enduring. In part because we live in a world that is majorly expressed through status updates and pictures, we are detached from one another, and we seem to have forgotten how to love each other and recognize one another as people. We are individuals with stories and backgrounds, families and beliefs, history and emotion. We have lost the capacity to remember the purpose of America, a nation founded under God.

I ache for our country. I ache for how divided we feel in a nation that is supposed to stand united. I would never wish for the pain and fear that 9/11 brought to our country, but I do yearn for the unity and support and outpouring of love that followed that event so many years ago. I hate to think that only a tragedy such as that would humble us enough to listen and turn to each other regardless of what we look like, or what we do for a living, or what we choose to believe. 

We are Americans. We belong together, and I am exhausted from watching that fall apart.

Learning love

Remember this post? Where I ranted about commitment?

Since then I have found the man of my dreams. Someone who doesn't just talk, but also does. He works hard, and gives me surprises of things that I love, and listens to me, and tells me I am beautiful, and I know that he means it. And being married to him is so much better than I ever imagined. 

Real-life love is different. Real-life love feels different. There is something about it that isn't what you think it's going to be. 

“You have to promise you won't fall in love with me.” 

-A Walk To Remember

Love is portrayed in movies, and songs, and on TV. Love there is passionate, and wild. There are angry fights, and then they make up. They try to portray the conflict that will inevitably arise, and they try to portray the hardship and the trials. That love seemed real to me. It wasn't perfect, and I knew that love never would be, but I longed for it. 

“They didn’t agree on much. In fact, they didn’t agree on anything. They fought all the time and challenged each other ever day. But despite their differences, they had one important thing in common. They were crazy about each other.” 

-The Notebook

I love the way Noah and Ali's story works out in 'The Notebook'. 

I love the way Landon and Jaime come together in 'A Walk to Remember', and he turns his entire life around because he falls in love with her, even though he knows she is sick. 

I love the way 'P.S I love You' shows the love a couple can carry even after death, and how you can move on and still find life and love. 

I fell in love with how imperfectly perfect love seemed to be. Logically I knew what I wanted, but it wasn't until I got married that I realized that love was different. Love is all of those things that I wanted, and even more. The thing about real-life love is there just aren't words. And I know that sounds cliche. All that,  "I couldn't be happier" and "he makes so happy" and all that other mushy stuff. The thing about real-life love, is that even the most poetic prose can't capture the dedication and the feeling. The true emotion you feel in your chest when you are disappointed or anxious or just flat out in love that you couldn't be happier. The pillow talk and the adventures and the passion and the conflict. The dynamics of real-life love are so intricate, that there isn't a way to explore all the facets without being directly involved. 

Just the fact that I'm going into such depth to explain how something so wonderful is in-explainable, is a contradiction to the idea itself. 

So though I still love a good chick flick, and I love the love and the romance and everything that comes with it in the movies, I prefer the real thing. I'm thrilled to have more than a lifetime to learn love.