Sunday, May 24, 2009

Memoir Monday

Today my eldest daughter turns five. This means all day kindergarten, learning a new classroom, meeting a new teacher, and making new friends. I am astounded at how my life has changed since my little four pounder was born. This is her story.

Sobbing on the phone with the OB nurse assuring her I had been doing my kick counts until I took a nap. She hadn't moved in an hour. My husband was packing up his classroom and I was alone. Alone with my horrible thoughts. All of the what ifs that were pounding through my brain. "I think it would be best if you met the doctor at the hospital," she finally said.

I hung up and called my mother. I tired to explain to my mother what was happening, but to this day I am not sure she understood anything other than Emma hadn't moved even after I drank a Dr. Pepper. Within minutes she was at my door and we were on our way to the hospital. What seemed liked hours was only minutes, but needless to say I hadn't calmed down. Something was horribly wrong. When I arrived in OB they were waiting on me. Nurses scurrying me in to try and calm me down. "Honey, what can I do to help you calm down?"

"Her heartbeat," I replied, " I need to hear it." Swiftly and efficiently the nurse grabbed the monitor pulled up my shirt and we heard the swooshing of a baby's heartbeat. My sobs stopped and I climbed into the bed. I began to answer their questions and the doctor walked in. He wanted me to stay for an non stress test for the next few hours. This had begun to be my routine. I had non stress tests twice weekly for six weeks now.

Finally, my heart rate returned to normal. I tried to get comfortable. My mom turned on the TV and suddenly a rush of activity filled the room. They were putting me on oxygen and moving me on my side. Then I heard it, "Her heart rate dropped. We need an ultrasound." The machine was wheeled in and the tech began his measurements in silence. My how the silence was deafening. My brain kept wanting answers, but the only answer was silence. After 15 minutes, he left and a nurse came in and brightly said, "Hello, Ms. S! Let's get your IV started I hear we are having a baby today!!" My jaw dropped and I said, "Nope! Not me. My baby isn't due for six more weeks." Her face turned red and she left in a rush. My nurse who had held my hand through the last few hours came in and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Lynnelle, your baby needs be delivered. Your amniotic fluid is low and she is under stress."

I couldn't believe it. It was too early. She was too little. What is happening? I can't handle this. My mind reeling in different directions. She wheeled me to a new room and they started the pitocin to start the contractions. I didn't feel a thing, but after the third contraction Emma's heart rate dropped to 49. I was having this baby now. She wouldn't make it unless I had a c-section.

I was so scared. I was about to become a first time mommy and everything was not going according to plan. Little did I know that pretty much sums up motherhood. Emma came early. Emma softly cried while they wheeled her away from me to the NICU. Our lives were changing. I had 34 weeks to prepare for her birth and I wasn't ready. Now, I've had 5 years with her and I realize that I was ready. She is my joy. She is my strength. She is my love. She is my fighter. She is my daughter.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Slice of Life~Can You Smell the Creativity?

"Hey, I am on my way home you want to check out the new Michael's?" I ask my mom as I walk to my car.

"Sure," she replies.

So I zoom, zoom to pick up my mom and off we go to the new Scrapbook Mecca.

When I walk in I gasp in awe and begin to giggle with glee as I see the aisles of perfectly themed crafts in Michael's. Aisle and aisle of creativity just itching to be put onto pages or crafts created for the perfect gift. Or to be honest for yourself. My heart stops as I look at the specialty papers. Oh, how I wish I didn't live on a budget.

As I began to walk up and down the aisles and into the themed corners I ran into my biggest temptation--bling. Oh the gorgeous bling; reds, pinks, emeralds green and of course the pink letters with yes...diamond bling. Oh, I could hear it saying to me the perfect picture is waiting to be taken for this embellishment. I cautiously walked up to the rack that held the blinged art. As I pulled it off the rack Just Say No echoed in my ears, but alas I couldn't resist. I must. I must have the bling. Secretly my inner bling demon says, "Score!" as the bling lands in my cart.

Ahhh, a great end to the day. The Bling Force is now subdued until....

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Memoir Monday

"When are we going to start our books?" C asked.

"As soon as everyone gets settled, " I state matter a factly. Goodness I wonder what the excitement is about. There isn't an assembly today. Why are they twittering about I wonder to myself. I begin to walk around the room and I hear small snippets of their conversations as they get the items for the day.

"Is it true? Do you think we will really do what the agenda says?" A asks another student. I turn to glance at the agenda to see if maybe in all the busyness of the morning I wrote something wrong.

The agenda clearly states-Wed. -Begin Nonfiction books, finish novel study and review Westward Movement. My mind realized that they are talking about their new writing project: nonfiction books on a topic they are an expert on.

"Good morning, class!" I said, "Are we ready to begin the day?"

"Only if we can start with our books," S said under his breath.

"Well why don't we get started in our Writer's Notebook, I say grinning from ear to ear. Too my surprise my students quickly did as was asked and waited expectantly to begin. Which is exactly what we did.

School has been so different this year. My room has been very diverse with ability levels and behavior issues, but one thing has remained constant. My students love to write. It still surprises me when someone asks how soon will Social Studies be over so we can write. It makes my day. My one goal this year has been to create confident writers. I believe it is accomplished.