Nervous!

I am hosting a baby shower today with my sister Sarah for our cousin's wife Ashley. I am excited but nervous!!!

I am not the most natural of hostesses, so here's hoping I can pull it off. Thank God my sister is helping me, and most of the guests are family.

Evan's 10th Birthday

At 2:13 AM this morning, Evan turned 10 years old. I never wrote down a birth story for him, so I am challenging myself now to write down as many of the details as I can.

Evan's arrival actually began on the 19th. I went in for a 43 week appointment with the doctor at around 10:30. Yes-you read that right-43 weeks. At the time, as a single mom, I was using Medicaid as my health insurance, which left UNMC as the only group of doctors/hospital I could choose. I would never run out of bad things to say about this medical institution, the interns I had to see (a different one each visit), or the general depravity of care I received. After going through the humbling experience of using Medicaid, WIC and other public assistance programs, and coming out on the other side, I have the utmost respect and sympathy for other women who have to do this. It is degrading, demeaning, and depressing. The level of care available to you is so substandard it is frightening.

But I digress. My pregnancy with Evan was peppered with my first experience with tachycardia, which is a rapid heart beat when you are at rest. I had this with all three of my boys, but it was worst with Evan. The night before, I had been up all through the night with a heart rate averaging around 163 beats a minute, despite the fact I was lying down in bed. It was exhausting. At the appointment my mother and I had to beg the intern, who was meeting me for the first time that day, to induce me. After 2 hours of consulting with other doctors, they finally made the decision to induce and by 1:00 I was hooked up to a pitocin drip.

We watched the movie Titanic for the first several hours, which really weren't bad at all. I don't recommend watching this flick when your body is doped up with pregnancy hormones. The scene with the mother and baby frozen in the water about threw me over the edge, but everyone else was so wrapped up in the movie they failed to notice how much I hated it.

My mom, dad, and sister were all there to help me bring my first son into the world. They rubbed my back, fed me ice chips, and kept me motivated. I listened to Garrison Keillor all through the tough parts, which started around 7:00 PM, because I think his voice is the most relaxing thing ever. I remember feeling like I was floating through a haze of pain, contractions, and hunger, and it was all wrapped up in the lull of Garrison's slow methodical story telling.

After only about 12 pushes, (pushing has always been my specialty in labor-something I am really proud of! I can push out a 10 pounder in only 12 pushes! Literally!) Evan was born at 2:13 AM. He came into the world weighing 7 lbs, 4 ounces, 21 1/4 inches. I remember my Dad saying "Oh Evan! It's nice to meet you!" which I thought was so sweet. My mom and dad both cried, and my sister couldn't wait to hold him. I have a clear picture of her in my head sitting in the rocker next across from me, cradling him in her arms.

I also remember being RAVENOUS. I hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning, and so as soon as I was stitched up and sitting up in bed with Evan in my arms, I turned to Sarah, and rather shouted, "I need a SANDWICH!!!"

But most of all, I remember sitting up with Evan in my arms the rest of that night and the next, when it was just us left in the room, in complete awe of this new little being who was my wonderful, glorious, son. I was immediately smitten, completely in love, and more than a little over protective of this tiny little boy. Strangely enough, I was never worried about how I would support him, how we would manage, or what in the world I would do to finish college with a newborn in tow. I felt oddly peaceful on this front. I just knew he was meant to be, and our small family was meant to be as well. And for once, I was right. It all worked out, for the best, and he was meant to be the piece of my heart that had been missing.

Happy 10th birthday Evan! It's been a wonderful 10 years getting to watch you grow and change. I am HONORED to be your mother.

Welcome to the World Joel!

I had the incredible honor Saturday of being present at the birth of Joel Norman Koch. It was the most amazing experience of my life, almost more exciting than the births of my own kids! I can't even put into words how beautiful, emotional, and incredible it was. I am so grateful to Christi and Adam for letting me help them welcome their new baby boy to the world. He is absolutely adorable...I don't think he looks very much like Alyssa when she was a newborn, but I do think he has Adam's ears. He is just precious. I also got to witness his first "boy" moment with Adam. The nurse had him in the warmer, and Adam was standing near taking pictures, when Joel did his first fountain pee over the side of the warmer, just missing his father.

I can't wait to watch this new little one grow up!

Sam's Birth Story

It all started out on Sunday evening November 26th. We had had such a normal day that if you had told me that morning I would be going into labor I would have laughed at you!! We went out to breakfast with my parents, I went grocery shopping, and that afternoon I sent Jeff out of the house to get some “without children” time. That turned out to be fortunate! I spent some time alone with the boys and then we headed over to my parent’s house for our weekly family dinner. I didn’t feel too hungry, which I guess was a sign, and luckily didn’t eat too much. I wasn’t even really having any contractions, which was strange because I had been having terrible ones for weeks. Anyway, I got home, gave Charlie a bath, and put the boys to bed. I took a shower, and sat down on the couch next to Jeff for what I thought would be a little bit before turning in early for work the next morning. As soon as I sat down, I had a pretty good contraction, but that wasn’t unusual, so I ignored it. We watched Days of Our Lives (on Soapnet) and I noticed that they weren’t going away. Still not unusual, but I started timing them for the heck of it, and they were six minutes apart. I got up to use the bathroom to see if they would stop, and when I sat down they got worse. I decided not to go to bed yet, and see what happened. By halfway through the second espisode, I was curled up next to Jeff having to breathe through them. By then I was starting to get a little nervous, because this was not in my game plan for the week! Jeff suggested I go lay down and try to get some sleep, since this had made them stop in the past. So, I laid down, and then they went to every 4 minutes, and got a bit stronger. Jeff convinced me to call the doctor at 11:30, who suggested I go in to the hospital to be monitored for an hour. Me, being the stubborn person I am, thought, I am not going into the hospital until I am sure I am not going to be sent home!!! So, I sent Jeff to bed and went into the living room to walk around to see what would happen. By 12:30 I had to sit down through them, and I finally called my parents and said “I think it’s time!!” (The first time I have had the opportunity to say this!) They rushed over, Jeff and I threw stuff in our hospital bag, which I stupidly had still not packed, and then I sat down on the couch and cried. Partly from pain, but a lot from nerves. My parents arrived at 1:15, and my dad stayed at the house with the boys while they slept and Jeff and my Mom and I headed for the hospital. Jeff is the most careful driver I know, and on the way he even went past the speed limit and turned left on a red arrow. He must have been nervous too. We got all checked into the hospital through the emergency entrance and then they put me on the monitors. They had to work for about an hour and a half to get my IV started. They said I have crooked veins, which apparently makes things really difficult. They tried 6 different times, and each time they blew the vein out (painful!) so they finally called the house supervisor. She was pretty cocky, but at least she got my IV started. When I got to the hospital I was at 7 cm dialated, but Sam’s head was still really posterior. We found out later that this was because he was being cushioned by a large pocket of amniotic fluid, and he couldn’t move down. They decided to keep me since I was so far dialated, but I don’t think I believed them until I was actually pushing. I remember asking over and over again if they were going to send me home. Because Sam was still so high up, he was able to move around quite a bit, and wouldn’t stay on the heart monitor (they need to monitor the baby’s heartbeat for 20 minutes out of every hour). So, I only got to walk around for about 40 minutes with my mom in the hallway from about 4:00-4:40. I feel so much better standing up in labor, so this was hard for me. I had to stay in bed the rest of the time so they could fiddle with the monitor. Most of the time a nurse had to hold it in the right spot. At 7:00 the doctor on call came in to check me and I was then dialated to 9 cm, but Sam’s head hadn’t come down any, and the contractions weren’t as strong as when I had first come in. He also told me that my regular OB was off for the day, and that Dr. Eric Shulte would be delivering Sam. I was so disappointed! When I heard his head hadn’t come down any, I got really scared, because I am terrified of having a c-section. I asked for pitocin to help with contractions, and then I asked for the epidural. I knew it wouldn’t get any better until I had some pain relief down there. His head was so high, I couldn’t even stand for them to break my water. I had my mom call Christi about then. I hadn’t wanted to wake anyone up during the middle of the night. Poor Jeff was just exhausted. Neither of us had gotten any sleep that night. The epidural was probably the worst part. By this time, I was feeling pretty frustrated, since so many things had been like a comedy of errors. Jeff got me through them putting in the needle. I really cried for this part, and thank goodness I have an all star husband. He is such a rock for delivery. As soon as it took effect, they broke my water, and thankfully his head starting moving down right away. I had talked with the anesthesiologist about my extreme sensitivity to epidural’s, but as usual, he didn’t believe me and insisted on giving me the regular dose. So, about 45 minutes after it started, my blood pressure dropped really low, and I started feeling like I was going to pass out. Luckily Christi arrived about then, and I felt so much better just knowing she was there. It was so great to talk to her and distract myself, which helped a lot since my blood pressure dropped three different times causing me to vomit, and for them to need to give me a medication that increased my hear rate. Finally the dumb doctor believed me, and he turned it down to the lowest dose possible. This turned out to be fantastic. I wish I had had an epidural like this each time. It was just enough to cut out a lot of the pain, but I was still feeling everything, and I was still in control. By 10:45, I was ready to push. The nurse had me do 2 practice pushes, and she realized he was going to come fast, so she called the doctor, but he was finishing with a patient, so I had to breathe through about 4 or 5 contractions before he arrived without pushing. This was SOOO hard to do!!! I had this incredible need to push and everyone was telling me to wait. Argh! Luckily, once again Jeff was my rock, and got me through it. As soon as the doctor slid in, 6 pushes and Sam was out. It was a little surreal for me, as there was this metallic panel in the ceiling above my bed, which had something to do with the lights, but reflected everything to me like a mirror. I was able to see everything, and I’ve never wanted to watch before. It was really neat though. Sam’s head is perfectly round, so that part was tough, but it was so neat to see him being brought into the world. They put him on my chest as soon as he was born, and I finally knew that this little boy would steal my heart just like my other two. I think I said something dumb like “I DO like him!!” I had been so worried I wouldn’t. I did have to get the episiotomy to get his head through, but otherwise, no tearing or anything. Another special part of Sam’s birth was that Evan was here for this one. He came with my dad at about 8:00, and he was so sweet! He couched me through the whole thing, and kept saying “You’re doing such a good job Mom! Here he comes!” Afterwards, he stood next to my bed and gave me a kiss and said “He’s just beautiful Mom!” What a sweet child. I will always remember Jeff and Evan standing next to Sam in the baby warmer looking at the newest member of our family. I love my boys so much!

The Nursery

I thought I would post some pictures of our finished nursery for the babies. The theme is frog princes, which I thought was perfect for my little princes!

37 Weeks

I realized that I haven't posted any preggo pictures this time around (actually I haven't taken many this time around) so I thought I would gross all of you out with this doozy! This is me at 37 weeks with my 3rd child (GOSH it feels weird to say that!).

I went back to work for full days on Monday, and immediately regretted the decision. I was okay in the mornings, but by the afternoons I was in so much pain I was ready to perform a c-section on myself with a pair of blunt scissors! Next week I will be doing half days in the mornings, and then the next week is the big day! Unless Sam has other plans. Knowing this may be my last time being pregnant, I thought I would be really sad here at the end, by God is making it easier to give up this state of being by providing me with some EXTREME discomfort.

D-Day

Sorry to bore all of you with the mundane details of my doctor's appointments, but that is really all that is going on in my life, and it is all my hormone overloaded brain can think about.

I went back yet again on Friday to the doctor. It was Evan's worst nightmare come true. Evan came home from school on Thursday with a 102.5 degree fever, and so he had to stay home from school on Friday. I couldn't miss the appointment, so I had to take him with me. He has been to many appointments before to listen to the heartbeat, etc. but he has never been to one (for obvious reasons) where they have had to check out the down below parts. He sat in a chair by my head while all the excitement went on, but I could hear him whispering to himself "I can't BELIEVE this!" I have officially scarred my child for life.

The doctor agreed to let me try work again on Monday and Tuesday (we only have a two day week because of the holiday). If I can handle it, she will let me work the week after Thanksgiving too. At this point, if I go into labor, everythings a go. She did want to schedule an induction early the week after Thanksgiving, but we negotiated, and she let me pick the 6th of December. So if things don't happen on their own before that, the 6tth (St. Nicholas Day) is D-Day. The most important thing that happened though was that I finally got up enough courage to be honest with the doctor and talk to her about post-partum depression. I had what I knew was a bigger dose of the baby blues after Charlie than was normal, but I had felt like it was going away when I got pregnant with Sam. Things went downhill from there. It was really bad over the summer, and it really affected my marriage and my relationship with my kids. I felt a bit better once school started, but things have really been bad again over the last couple of weeks. I mean really bad. I was so embarrassed to admit it to anyone, even the doctor. I was scared too, because it makes me nervous to have anything on my medical records about mental instabililty in case anything ever went wrong with Dan again, but I knew I was at the breaking point. Have you ever read the book The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood? (If not you should, it is EXCELLENT). In it the main character Vivi describes a motherhood mental breakdown, which she calls "dropping her basket". At one point she runs away from her family for several days and dissapears. I was never able to understand this aspect of her character. Then one Saturday a couple of weeks ago, I was running an errand without the kids in the car, and I had the strongest urge to just keep driving, and leave everyone behind. Later in the day, I just lost it for no good reason and was so depressed I can't even describe it. Ironically, one of the first thoughts that popped into my mind was "You're about to drop your basket!" which scared me to death. So, after an honest and supportive discussion with Jeff, I spilled my guts to the doctor in a big tear fest. She thought I was definitely dealing with a moderate case of post-partum depression, and she reccomended treatment immediately, since it would only get worse after Sam is born, which was another of my worries. So, I have just started an anti-depressent. I feel so much better talking to people about it and admitting it here, that I wish I had done it sooner, but hind sight is 20/20 right? I would give anything to feel normal, and get "myself" back, and I am so hopeful that this will work.

Today was also a big day for Evan...he made his First Reconciliation- the first step to making his First Communion in March. He was so excited (and nervous)and I was so proud of him as he completed this sacrament. My little guy is not so little anymore!

Today's Ultrasound

I went in today for what will probably be my last ultrasound with Sam. We found out a couple of interesting things. They measured the amount of amniotic fluid first, and that was all normal. Then they did several measurements of his bones and girth, and after the computer had combined all of these together it predicted that he is currently between 8 and 9 pounds. It also estimated him to be in the 95 percentile for his height. So, for a kid that is only 36 weeks gestation, and theoretically has about 3 weeks left to cook (during which babies typically add a pound a week) it looks like he is WELL on his way to being as big as his brother. This was disapointing to me, not because I will have to push out another big bean, but because I think this means the doctor is going to really want to induce me early. Which I really do not want to do. On the other hand, do I want to deliver an 11 pounder? Not especially. I don't know what to do. I don't know how much choice I will have in the matter. I realized on the way down to the office that I was really hoping someone would say, "Oh! We made a mistake! This one is actually a girl!!" No such luck. Big old boy parts were immediately apparent in a sweep past that area. She also determined that Sam's head is directly on my cervix, which is what is causing things to move along. Externally I am dialated to 5 cm, but internally it is just to 1 cm. Which I guess is good, but then she told me with his head so far down in wouldn't take much. Then the interesting thing happened. She called in one of the doctors in the practice to check over the results. It wasn't my own doctor since I had to go to the office down on 42nd and Farnam. He wanted to check the cervix results again, since that was the main thing they were concerned about. So, while he has the wand stuck up you know where (they couldn't do this part just by waving the wand over my stomach like usual) he strikes up this conversation. He says, "So, I notice from your chart you're a teacher at SVdP. I think you had a Paul ____ in your class a couple of years ago." I did, and so I told him so, all the while thinking, oh no...where is this going? Then he says, "____ and ____, Paul's parents, are our neighbors, and my wife and I's best friends!!! I can't wait to tell them I saw you today!!" Now, it is one thing to have an anonymous guy holding something in your down below parts, but when you find out he is connected to people you work with professionally, it makes you want to gag. I could just imagine him describing the whole situation in detail at dinner. "Hey guys! I checked Christy Kleffman's cervix out the other day!!" This is the really bad part about being a teacher. You run into people EVERYWHERE that you have worked with. I am terrified that one day I will need to go to the ER for emergency surgery and be stark naked when the doctor will say, "Hey guys! This is Mrs. Kleffman my old teacher!!" Ugh.

Yesterday's Doctor Appointment

I realize that this whole drama here with the baby and my doctor appoinments is probably not interesting to many people beyond myself, but I feel like my life revolves around the couch and the doctor's office. I went in again yesterday for yet another check. At the very least, this is helping me to become so immune to people seeing me without my pants on that labor should not even phase me.


She checked my cervix, and luckily I hadn't dialated any more past the 5 cm I already was on Friday. This cheered me because I have this vision of myself walking around with such a large hole down there that one day the baby will just fall out on it's own accord. The bladder infection is still raging, so they are concerned about that. They want to get it under control so it doesn't progress into a kidney infection. I am going to go in for an ultrasound on Thursday where they will measure the baby's size and see how he is progressing, and also get an internal view of the cervix. Then I have to go back to the doctor yet again on Friday where she will discuss the results with me. I will get to see if they will let me return to school next week since this Sunday I reach the magic number of 37 weeks pregnant, meaning that Sam is officially a term baby. I will also get to see if they think he is huge like good old Charlie was, and if so, they will induce me some time the week after Thanksgiving. I laughed when she said this, because here I am working so hard to keep this kid inside of me, and now we are talking about making him leave Hotel Christy early! Poor Sam. He never gets to be in control here.


I have felt so blessed to be married to Jeff lately. I can't get out of the couch by myself, I can't do anything involving touching my own feet (like putting on my socks), and it's hard for me to get a lot of things done at home. He has been SOOO helpful and loving about everything. Jeff is really a star during the end of pregnancies and in labor and delivery. He has also been putting up with me as I wig out frequently during the last couple of weeks. I am trying so hard to be excited about this baby coming, and I really am not. I am scared, nervous, anxious, and dreading it, but I just can't get over the fact that I really don't want a baby right now. I feel DISGUSTING saying that, and I know it really bothers others when I do. I have tried talking with my family about this over the last nine months and they just look horrified and then change the subject. I think they assumed (and I did as well) that as I got used to the idea and closer to the event that my feelings would change. They haven't. I know there are so many in the world who would love a child, and it makes me feel guilty to walk around like a baby making machine, and to not even feel excitement about it. Jeff has been awesome, and let me be totally honest about how I feel, and he still likes me anyway. I think I might be horrified myself if he said the same things to me, but he has been so understanding and supportive. I am really praying that once Sam is born, that my maternal instincts will take over, and that God sends me an angel to watch over us (hopefully one with a lot of experience in the motherhood department). I am reading a book right now in which one of the main characters is an English profressor who is teaching Dante's Inferno. She tells the class she thinks that the deepest level of hell is the complete absence of free will, and the inability to have the time or energy or ability to do anything for oneself. I was struck when I read the sentence that this is much like the definition of motherhood. I have found that I am a much better mother to Charlie and Evan when I have some time to myself, when I still feel like I contribute to the world in a way that has nothing to do with me being their mother. This has been difficult to do over the last 10 months with the addition of Charlie, especially over the summer months when it was mostly just me handling everything about the kids. I do manage to find a few moments here and there, but how in the world will I do that once Sam comes? I almost feel like in order to take care of your kids, for about 20 years, a woman's own "self" disappears to care for those around her. Why in the world are men the ones always having mid life crisis? It should be the women. But, maybe we are just zombies and too damn tired to do anything by the time we get to that point. Not that my kids aren't an enormous accomplishment or something that I am not really proud of giving to the world. I am, truly. But I feel like there is more to me than motherhood too, and it is really depressing me right now to know I might have to supress that. On the other hand, I love my kids to death and I feel huge amounts of guilt when I do take too much time away. Jeff had the enormous insight to tell me that I should consider these feelings when I decide about working or staying home with the kids, and I will, but right now I think I am in such a hormone haze I can't make a rational decision to save my life.


Anyway, I am obviously someone with too much time on her hands, as I have been typing for forever. Hopefully no one is too disgusted with me, but if you are, you can join the club. Myself and my family will be there right along with you!