Our Birth Story

Our Birth Story

August 29th. That was our son’s due date. Everything about the pregnancy had been going completely normal and right on track up to this point and everyone had been telling us that your first baby usually comes late. So you can imagine my surprise when my wife called to me from the bathroom with a subtle, yet unmistakable mix of excitement, terror and confusion. She was sitting on the toilet. I believe the exact words were something to the tune of “Uhh Babe?... I think my water just broke. My underwear are soaked and I KNOW I didn't pee my pants.” It was 11:15 on the evening of August 5th. “That’s 24 days early. I have to work in the morning! We aren't ready yet!! We don't have our birthing tub!!! The bed is in 5 different pieces because of the work in the bedroom!! Can you hold him in for a couple weeks?”  is what I said in my head. In reality I just stared stupidly at my wife and said “Uhh...what do we do?” She stared back at me with tears and a smile and gave the universal symbol for “I have no idea, my water has never broken before, this is my first baby, I’m scared, confused, excited, and don’t have a clue what our next step is”... she shrugged her shoulders. 

So we called our midwife. They had an after hours answering service for emergencies. We called, said that our water had just broken and they said either Catherine or Leslie would be calling us back shortly. Now at this point I should say that, earlier, I may have been making it sound a little more dramatic than it was. We were both actually quite calm at this point. We still weren’t even 100 % sure that her water had, in fact, broken or if it was just a leak. So we waited for a couple minutes without saying much and then the phone rang. It was Catherine. I only heard my wife’s end of the conversation. She was using her voice that she uses on the phone when she’s either excited about something, breaking news to someone, or gossiping with her mom or aunt. In this case, it was two out of the three. She was explaining what had happened, listening to Catherine's advice, a lot of “OK”s and “Uh huh”s and then I hear “Nope, it definitely broke.. I can feel it dripping down my leg right now” So now it’s for real. 

Now I’m going to back up a little bit. Less then a week prior, we had started our labor and birth classes. We had some trouble finding one that wasn’t full and/or worked with our schedules. When we finally found one, the timing was going to be really tight. The last class would be 4 days before his due date. So Kathy, the birthing coach, agreed to do some privates with us to make sure that we were up to speed in case he decided to come early. She was amazing. I can’t tell you how glad I am that we used her and I’ll go into a bit more about her a little later, but the two main things that we took away from that first private session that are relevant to this part of the story are these.  The first was that labor is broken into three phases. The first phase of labor is supposed to be the longest and easiest. Usually between 8 to 12 hours, with mild contractions between 5 and 30 minutes in between. The second was that Hollywood tended to over dramatize a pregnant woman’s water breaking as THE MOMENT that labor begins which is not true at all. It can sometimes happen a couple days before and does not mean that labor is starting and it’s time to run to the hospital. So you’ve got it right? Water break doesn’t necessarily mean labor is starting and even if it does you’ve got a whole work day to run final errands, rest, watch a movie... whatever. Easy peasy, right?

OK. So we’re back in the kitchen on the phone with Catherine while amniotic sac fluid is running down my wife’s legs. She finishes up the call and hangs up. She tells me that Catherine basically told her that she should get some rest cause tomorrow might be a big day and that she would call back and check in on us in the morning. She called back about 8 minutes later with a couple of extra things that had been forgotten and then we were alone. There we are standing in the kitchen, our first baby possibly starting his final descent from the womb, both surprisingly calm yet with an undertone of “holy shit, is this actually happening?” It was 11:39 PM. And so, without knowing quite what else to do, we continued with our evening as previously planned. She sat back down for some Facebook time and I sat back in the easy chair and finished my episode of 30 Rock. And then it was time for bed. It was about 12:30. I said that I was exhausted and that we should probably both get some rest. Tomorrow might be a big day. “Are you sure you don't need anything” “Please come get me if you need anything.” “Try to get some sleep.” “I love you.” She was sleeping on the couch cause she couldn't get comfortable anywhere else. Because of the belly.

Sleep eventually came. Sort of. It was fitful at best. I could hear Jessica moving around in the other room and thoughts were racing through my head about everything. Would she be able to handle the home-birth as planned with no drugs? She’s so small... is she going to need a C-Section? Am I going to be a good dad? What if I drop the baby? What if kids at school are mean to him? How am I going to pay for his college? What if he’s black?! That would be awesome! (long running joke). 

It was about 3:30 when the sounds woke me up. I had sort of been hearing them through my sleep haze for a couple of hours. But this was different. “HMMMMMMMM”.  “WHEEEEEEEEEEEEWWW” It was low and guttural. Animal like. Visceral. I sprung out of bed and hurried into the living room. Perhaps with a bit too much gusto because I startled the shit of my wife who was lying on the couch. She burst into tears “Jesus babe, don’t do that!!”. “Ok, sorry. sorry. everything ok?”  One word answer. “NO!”. My wife is a talker. One word answer’s aren’t in her vocabulary. So now it’s REALLY for real. The next 30 minutes was spent trying to find a comfortable position. She tried lying on her side, on all fours, walking around. Nothing was helping. This was not “easy peasy”. Finally we ended up on the toilet. She had downloaded an app for measuring contractions which was doing us absolutely no good because we couldn't get a clear start or finish to the contractions. It was just an ongoing pain. I said we should call Catherine. My wife didn’t want to inconvenience her. Usually this would have turned into a debate about a plethora of issues ranging from whats expected of someone when your’e paying them for their services to being willing to ask for help, etc, etc. This was not the time for a debate. I called Catherine. I talked with her for a minute, explained the situation and then she asked to talk to Jess. 

There is nothing quite like standing in the door of your bathroom, watching your wife explaining what she’s going through as she deals with multiple contractions while sitting on the toilet. I felt utterly useless. She hands the phone back to me and I take the call into the living room. “Well, she’s still pretty chatty” Catherine said to me. I would have laughed out loud had I not known what she meant. 

What she meant by that was that the we still had time. If a midwife went running to the house of every pregnant woman who thought the baby was “definitely on his way” they would never get anything done. So they talk to the pregnant woman through a couple of contractions and if the woman is still able to talk, they know that they still have some time. We had learned this in our private sessions with the birthing coach. Now the other thing that we learned is that every woman goes through a moment in labor where they don't think that they can do it. And they will let you know. “I can’t do this.” “I don't want to do this”. They all say it. Every time. And what we learned is that it’s a good sign when they do. It means that they’re into the last phase of labor called transition. It’s the transition from labor into actually pushing and delivering the baby. That piece of information will be very relevant in just a minute.

So back to the phone call. “She’s still pretty chatty. Why don’t you guys time the contractions and call me back in about 30 minutes.” And so we did. We spent the next 30 minutes sitting on the toilet, while she went through a pain that no man will ever know and I tried to press “start” and “stop” when I thought the contractions were starting and stopping. Seemed like an even distribution of the workload at the time. The problem was that there was no start or stop. It was just an ongoing wave of pain. It was more intense at times but there was no rhyme or reason to it. And so when 45 minutes had passed and we hadn't called her back, Catherine called to check in. I don’t remember it word for word, but I think the conversation went something like this:

“So how’s it going?”

“I have no idea. She doesn't seem to be getting any relief from the contractions” 

“Were you able to time them at all?” 

“Not really. It just keeps going. I cant tell when they start or stop.”

“OK. Hmmm. Alright, well I’ll head over to the office and grab my kit and the tub and then I’ll head over and check her out.”

This was quite a relief to hear. I was staying calm with Jess like the birthing coach had taught me, but inside ... I was kinda freaking out. So the fact that someone was coming to help was really good news. Someone who knew what they were doing. I went to give Jess the good news. I told her Catherine was on the way. You’re doing great. Everything was fine. Just stay calm and help her through the pain. The cavalry was on the way. Then came a really bad one. It basically knocked her into a standing position like she was trying to run from the pain. Then I saw the blood. And that’s when I heard it. “I can’t do this. I don’t wanna do this. We need to go to the hospital” .

Now remember, that’s supposed to come at transition. It’s a little after 5 AM so she’s been having contractions for less than 4 hours. We were supposed to have a relaxing 8 to 12 hours of early labor, followed by a couple hours of active labor before she was supposed to “not wanna do this”.  All my fears are being realized in that moment. She’s not going to be able to handle it. She’s going to need drugs or a C-section. We’re not going to be able to stick to our birth plan. I have failed my son before he’s even taken his first breath. Great! But there was one thing that was still sticking with me from our private session with Kathy. 

My only job, if nothing else, was to keep calm for my wife. So as I’m sitting there with all my fears being realized, blood running from my wife’s insides and her telling me that we need to go to the hospital, I do the only thing I can think to do at that moment. I ignore her. I don’t tell her to relax or that we’ll get through it, no cliche speeches, no empowering one liners... I just ignore her. I stand there with her basically hanging from my neck. I brush the hair out of her face. I remain calm. And then it passes. She sits back down. “You OK?”  She sort of mumbles yes. “Baby, you're doing sooo good. Everything is fine, I’m just gonna step out and see how long till Catherine get’s here. Call if you need me”

Now I’m freaking out. Nobody told me about blood. I mean they did. But not really. I wasn't expecting blood. Or if I was, I wasn't ready for it. And definitely not this early. So I called the cavalry. “Hey Catherine” trying very unsuccessfully to sound calm and relaxed “just curious if you knew about how long till you get here.”  She said she was just getting the birth kit and the birthing tub from the office and that it would be about 20 minutes. “Ok, cause she doesn't seem to be doing very good. She’s saying that she wants to go to the hospital. And theres blood.” ... “Oh, that’s good” she says. Then a slight pause. “well, hmmm. OK, I don't think we’re gonna have time for the tub. Yeah, ok... I’m on my way.”

I gather myself. Back to the bathroom. I tried to draw a bath. She wasn’t interested. I tried to brush the hair out of her face. “Get your hands out of my face, I cant breath”  I told her she was doing great. “You did this to me you son of a bitch!!” Ok, I made that last one up. But I seriously had no idea what else to do. Catherine couldn't get there quick enough. I’ve never been so happy to here the doorbell ring. It was Catherine. Catherine with medical supplies. Catherine with absorbent pads for the furniture and answers to questions and experience with this sort of thing. Catherine was here. 

It was 5:30 when Catherine arrived. The next hour and a half was kind of a blur. Her assistant got there at about 6. She tried to do the things she normally did, but each time she did, she looked and we were already passed that point. This kid wanted out, and he wanted out now. We ended up on the living room floor, with Jess on her knees, draped onto the couch seat. The lights were low, there was music quietly playing, nobody spoke unless it was necessary. Now it was calm. The pushing was intense, but it all felt right. Colton was coming. I had told myself I wasn't going to look. But I couldn't help myself. I left her side to peek... and he was right there! I went back to her side and barely holding in tears, I told her she was doing great and that he was right there! She shushed me. And rightfully so. She was in the zone and I was being kind of a pussy. Then she stood up cause her legs were hurting.... just as a big one came. And she pushed. And then he was there. And not to ruin the moment, but I want to back up for just a second to make sure you understand the timeline here. My wife got off of work at 10:45, got home at 11, her water broke at 11:15 and without a drop of drugs, she had that kid in her arms at 7:00 the next morning. Colton was here. Colton, with a full head of hair on a cone shaped head. Colton, all covered in goo. Colton, with all the wonder in the world. Colton was here. Colton is here. 

A few minutes after giving birth

 First time breastfeeding 

 So in love

 Colton Steven Jessup

Born August 6th, 2013

at 6:58am at home

Our new little family

Our Midwife: Catherine Williams at Home Birth Service of Los Angeles

Childbirth Classes:  Kathy Killebrew

Happy New Year!

Well, it's been a bit since I blogged last, so I'm jumping into it full force. Since my last blog, I got married, went on a honeymoon and celebrated our 3 year anniversary of being together. I thought I'd reflect on how Roddy and I met, where we've been and where we are going. So for January, my blogs will be a tribute to my life since I met Roddy.

Here goes...
On December 23rd, 2008 I decided to sign myself up for a year of eHarmony. Why? Because I was so tired of meeting such lame guys, or having relationships that seemed to go no where or have potential. So, I decided as a Christmas gift to myself that year, I would sign up for not a month or two, but a whole year. I knew that if I only signed up for a couple months that I would soon loose interest if I someone was matched up with the same type of guys I knew didn't have a long term goal.
On December 24th, 2008, Christmas Eve, I was matched with this guy, Roddy Jessup.

"He's cute!" I said..."oh, and actor, hmmm?" And I sent him a wink to let him know I was interested.

We talked for 2 weeks through emails and instant messaging, and became friends on facebook. I stalked him and he stalked me. Roddy was in sales and gone for 10 days at a time but he knew he wanted to meet me before his next scheduled trip on the road. So, he asked me out our our first date, on Sunday. "Wait, this Sunday!?" (It was Thursday!) "Sure!" and then I got very nervous...what am I doing? I don't even know this guy! What if he's not as funny in person, what if he kills me and leaves me in some dark, cold alley? 

I was so nervous that Sunday, January 11th, 2009. We texted back and forth all day long about how nervous and excited we were. It was a lot of these: "aljkdfhdlsaglakdsjg" as it had become a joke in the 2 weeks we had been messaging back and forth and was the new "OMG"

We met at a cute little sushi place in Los Feliz, Niko Niko. He told me that he wanted a hug as soon as we met. And, not just a nice to meet you hug, but a great big, I've known you for years bear hug! I think I tripped at least 3 times walking from my car to the restaurant and was so nervous that he was watching from somewhere. I probably almost turned around a few times telling myself, "I can't do this!" But something took over and I was like, "Dammit! I deserve to have fun!"

OMG!aldsjfhlakdjhfks! There he is! We hugged we laughed, it was amazing!

After dinner we had some time to kill so we grabbed frozen yogurt (my fav!) Then we headed over to the Laugh Factory for a comedy show and some coffee just before the show. It was probably one of the best nights of my life, or at least in awhile.

As the night came to an end and Roddy drove me back to my car, I got really nervous again. Is he going to kiss me? Omg, what if he kisses me, what if he doesn't want to kiss me? So, in the rush of nervousness and first date stupidness, I said"Kiss me!" and he giggled and kissed me! It was the perfect ending to an amazing night and what would be the start to our week of three dates!

Sugar Free Peanut Butter Almond Flour Cookies

These are Roddy's favorite lately. I truly think they kept him sane while on our pre-wedding diet, with no carbs and no sugar! He is a sweets-aholic! I came up with this recipe to make sure that he could still enjoy cookies for his sweet tooth.

So easy recipe!

Sugar Free Peanut Butter Cookies

1 Cup Natural Peanut Butter (no sugar)
1 Cup almond Flour
1 Egg
4 1/2 TBS Stevia (granulated)

Bake at 350 for 9-11 mins.

* I also added some sugar free chocolate on top for added yummy goodness! (Those Sugar Free Chocolate Bars from Trader Joes became a staple in the house!)

Enjoy!

So yummy!

Missing you again on this Birthday!

Well, it's that time of year again. My birthday! How can  I possibly be 29!? That's 29 years of being on this earth, laughing, crying, growing, learning and trying to figure out this world.

While my birthday used to always be something I looked forward to as a kid, now it just seems so, blah. As a kid I was always so excited for my special day! Having a birthday present list, having birthday parties, cake, and celebrating!

There are things I do still do till this day that make it very special to me. I wait until the time I was born, 5:21 pm on May 20th to open my gifts and cards.  And there was one special thing I loved even more. It was waiting for a very special phone call from my Grandpa! We shared the same birthday! I was expected to be born on May 13th...already as a little one inside my mom's tummy, I decided, "no, that won't work for me!" I need to stick it out a week and make this special! So then it was. I was born at 5:21pm on May 20th, 1982.

Now, my Grandpa's phone call was so very special to me because it was something we shared, something that truly connected us with a special bond from the very start. I never knew where in the world Grandpa would be..he traveled all of the time. I got phone calls from California, New York, London, Hawaii and Japan. It was always an adventure! 

My Grandpa passed away 10 years ago this September. But, it's this time of year when I miss my Grandpa the most! I get sad knowing her won't call and something feels so empty about receiving birthday phone calls from my family and friends Because, it is his call and his voice that I long for. I so deeply wish he was here, to see how far I've come, to send me postcards from his adventures and travels to amazing places, and to HUG! He would be so proud of the strong, loving person that I am. He'd appreciate my love for deals and baking! Every year I make spaghetti with marinara sauce and chocolate cake in his honor. And I make it a point to spill on myself, because Grandpa always wore a red shirt when he ate spaghetti ever since he spilled all over his white shirt!

Throughout the year I carry on his memory, his humor, his love for deals and I would love to travel the world as he so loved to do! Grandpa, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish you were here with me, especially on this very special day that we share. I hope you are traveling somewhere magical, beautiful and spilling a little something on yourself! I know you are watching over me and sending me postcards from the clouds! I love you and I miss you! Happy Birthday!

My Grandpa and I on my 17th and his 71st Birthday. He surprised me by coming to Chicago for our birthday! It was the best gift ever!

Pupcakes for Mac's 1st Birthday!

Mac officially turned a year old on March 7th! 

I can't believe this sweet puppy we brought home at 9 lbs is now close to 50 lbs and grown up so fast! He did get pretty spoiled for his birthday. We must have gone to Petco 3 times that week so he could pic out a little treat. He even stood right up and helped himself to a few treats at the all-you-can-eat treat bar. I was a little embarrassed. But he's so cute, everyone just giggled and said how beautiful he was. We are very proud of our sweet boy.

Mac was overwhelmed by all of his treats I gave him on his special birthday morning. He couldn't choose what to chew, lick, eat or play with first!

A GIANT bone from his daddy who was out of town, an extreme kong bone (a huge hit!), a peanut butter filled knuckle bone, a squeaky toy, and lot of treats! Even homemade Banana Pupcakes!

I wanted to do something extra special for Mac, so I decided I'd make him some birthday pupcakes! I was so excited. Mac watched intently the whole time.

Here is the recipe for these very easy and delicious pupcakes for your own little, or big pup!

Banana Pupcakes

Ingredients:

2 cups Water
2 bananas
1 tsp vanilla
3 cups flour
1 tbsp baking powder
1 egg
3 tbsp honey

Directions:

Heat oven 350 degrees
Mash bananas
In Bowl Mix all ingrediants WELL Pour into cupcake pans
Bake 20 mns. 

I made the pupcakes in mini muffin tins so they were bite size for Mr. Mac. He LOVED them. He followed me and stared at em the whole night waiting for more. Another great thing was that the squished and fit perfectly in his Extreme Kong Bone! ( We LOVE this thing!) The treats were a great success!

Mac's Extreme Kong Bone! (Get one! It is a lifesaver for some extra occupied time!)

We also went to the dog park and ran like a speeding bullet, licked a few other dogs, in places not to be named, drank lots of water from 10 different bowls (One of Mac's favorite things...WATER!) It was a great day! Mac was pooped and so was mommy! We love you MAC! Happy 1st Birthday!

Letting Go!

I recently had a garage sale that was one of the hardest and emotional ones I've ever had.  I tend to buy a lot of things at great deals and keep a lot of stuff I don't need. However, these things that I was getting rid of at this garage sale really seemed to affect me very much. I cried many times through out the process of putting stuff into piles, emptying out my storage unit and even during the actual garage sale itself.

While going through and emptying my storage unit I was reminded of my move  to CA that I so bravely chose to do after 20 years of living in the same place. I went on my own, not knowing what to expect but expecting something new and better than the life I had been living in the town I loved and now miss very much. I left with three suitcases and got on a train from Chicago to Los Angles. Over those two and a half days I did a lot of thinking, met a lot of interesting people and decided this was a new beginning. In the storage unit I had boxes full of memories, and that is just what they were, MEMORIES. Why did I need this stuff, what was I going to do with it? I needed this stuff to remind me of growing up, of good times and good friends. I needed it to hang on to what I lost, what I had left behind and somehow I felt safe knowing I still had it. But, it was finally time to let a lot of it go. I say a lot, and not ALL. Some of it I just couldn't let go, not this time at least!

Then it was time to empty out not just one but two closets and dressers full of clothes at my parents house. My parents house, whom I no longer live with! Oy vay! Why, do I have so many clothes? And so many with tags still on them! Now this stage of getting rid of stuff was very, very emotional. These clothes were not just material or some expensive name brand I had to have. No, these were clothes I used to fit into, clothes that a 20 something female shouldn't fit into. Girl's size 10, and they were often loose on me. So this stage was possibly finally letting go of my over 10 years of being anorexic. This was invigorating, extremely difficult, and eye opening all at the same time. I couldn't believe how much of my time and life I wasted wasting away myself in this horrible disease. I lost loves, friends and betrayed family as well as myself. Anorexia stole so much of my teenage years as well as my young adulthood. Why wouldn't I want to get rid of everything that still somehow tied me to it? That is why it was so hard, I didn't know. I missed it in a little way. I felt in control, when I was really so very out of control. I felt that letting go of these clothes would truly push me and keep me going in the right steps that I have worked so hard to reach and overcome this horrible disease. So the piles started getting bigger and the closet was getting emptier and emptier.

One Closet and over 100 pieces of clothing!

More clothes and misc. junk!

AND...

More clothes and SHOES!

All together I gathered and GOT RID OF over 350 pieces of clothing and 27 pairs of shoes!

I cried once as I got ready for the morning and people were pulling up by the car loads at 5:45 am! And once more when a lady wanted five different items WITH TAGS still on them for 50 cents a piece! I don't think so lady! As tears streamed down my face and I excused myself inside for a moment to calm down. As I came back out, and older gentleman patted me on the back and was like, "I know, garage sales are hard. I've had to sell everything I owned before." I liked that gentleman very much and I thanked him for understanding with tears in my eyes.

After a few hours of wheeling and dealing and saying goodbye to so many things that at one time filled some void and made me happy, I made over $700 and felt a huge burden lifted off of my shoulders!

Before:

Here is the empty garage with only a few left over items sent away the next day to Goodwill.

I was very proud of myself that day!

Here we go...

So, I've been wanting to start a blog for over a year now and I am finally getting to it now. It took me a few days to come up with a name I felt was right for me and for what the blog will be about. "Jessica's babbling, deals, & love" is going to be all about my love for talking, finding deals, and of course sharing my heart and love with the world.

It's been an amazing year since I have wanted to start this blog. I got engaged to a wonderful man on January 13th, 2010. Roddy proposed to me in Jamaica at a private dinner on the beach for just the two of us. While this engagement had been planned for a few months by Roddy, mother nature had a few plans of her own. It rained everyday, which was a major bummer and much different than the first time we had been to Jamaica 4 months before! but, that night Roddy proposed, made the whole trip the most wonderful and meaningful night. I cried, I laughed and we kissed...a lot!

A few months later we decided to start our new family and get... a puppy! We did a lot of research on the type of dog that we wanted and decided on a Vizlsa. When we made our decision we wanted to make sure that we found a reputable breeder and we found  Vistercil's Vizslas. We were so excited to find out that a liter was going to be born in march and we could bring our new little puppy home the first week of May! Then a rush of "are we ready for a puppy?" came and then some nerves and then "yay! we are going to have a puppy!" 

with Roddy's love for Macs and in honor of my Grandpa (his last name was McLaren) we decided that Mac would be a very suitable name for our new little guy.

Mac just celebrated his first birthday and I can't believe he is already a year old. He has brought a lot of joy and love to our house. 

Well, this is just a start to the many posts I will make. I hope that you enjoy the things I have to share, the   babbling, the awesome deals I find, and a whole lot of things I love in this world!