Birth Day

We were on the Kaanapali coast of Maui last October, dodging the waves of the Pacific and searching for creatures in the tidepools, when Hunter said, "How about Coral?" Everything lava and ocean had been on our minds all week, but this conversation was about what we would name our new little baby girl. She was only about 14 weeks along in there at the time, but being a "geriatric" pregnant mom, no one batted an eye about my request for a blood test to determine, most importantly to me, whether she was a boy or girl. We had just found out which. I had no names that I was tied to yet, so the kids kept calling her Baby Coral, and so it stuck.

Fast forwarding about 5 months through the fatigue and nausea that defines my pregnancies, I could feel that this baby was bigger than the others at the same age. Being a VBAC patient, I might fudge don'ttellmydoctor my dates so that I lower my risk of being induced, but even knowing that, her April 5th/1st due date was pushing it. I felt like she would be early, especially given that Jeremy was scheduled to be on call the last week of March, and on call is what he was for the birth of both older kids.

On March 13, we celebrated Hunter's 7th birthday! Oh how times flies. The following weekend was busy with maternity photos scheduled, our annual trek to the daffodil fields, and some work at our new land. My running had been on the pitiful side for most of my pregnancy, but I was actually enjoying my walks-with-a-bit-of-jogging, doing an hour-ish on most days of the week; otherwise I rode my trainer while ignoring my power meter. Saturday I got my walk in early so we could do some pictures then go to dinner...at the restaurant we went to for my last meal before delivering Josie...

At just shy of 38 weeks, if you're being lenient, early on Sunday morning of St. Patrick's Day, I was up in the middle of the night, and as usual while pregnant, unable to quickly go back to sleep. I was tossing about, not getting comfortable, and I didn't want to wake my bed buddy, Josie, so I was lying across the bottom of the bed. Having juuuuust started to doze off, I was startled by a thump. Surely, I thought, that was not my water breaking, but just one of those dreams that seems truly real. I lay really still for a while, in denial, until finally I decided to check to see if... yes, my water broke a little. I got back in bed thinking this is too early, still not believing it was real. A contraction made me notice it, and then another. I thought I better check the clock at this point, and when I realized I was having contractions 5 minutes apart, I knew something was going on. It was 3:38 am.

Jeremy had his alarm set for 4, and when he woke up, I quickly stopped him from getting up and told him he couldn't go out to work at our new land, I just *might* be in labor, and if not, well, I was really tired from not sleeping much. His mom was scheduled to move to the plot in two days, and he had a few things to get finished up before then. I wasn't convinced that contractions this far apart (they started closer with Josie) were anything to get excited over, but I went to get a few things packed while he called his mom, who lived 7 hours away. Around 5, I decided to actually time my contractions to see if this was "for real," and found that it was, indeed.

Next on the agenda was texting my doula, Cora. She didn't answer within the minute, and I started worrying she wouldn't hear her phone, it being Sunday morning at 5am. Then she called with the news that she had just finished with a delivery at the same hospital, and she would be there with everything ready! Jenny and Tim got the next text, but I ended up calling Tim when they didn't respond. We needed someone to be able to come stay at our house with the older kids, or they would be drug to the hospital with us. I still have my last minute packing list that includes "kids clothes." No time for apostrophes! Luckily I got in touch with Tim; he was coming up and waking Jenny, our designated birth photographer. Somehow I managed to get enough stuff together and talk to enough people through my contractions, as my mom can testify to, and we left for the hospital around 5:45.

Apparently we were arriving at the hospital around 5:59 when Jeremy sneakily took my picture as we pulled into the parking garage. But honestly, I wouldn't have noticed if he had told me anyway, with my contractions being pretty close together by then. Cora was waiting with a wheelchair right at the entrance to the skywalk, apparently remembering Josie's birth, where it took me hours (so it seemed) to make it 5 feet down that corridor. She whisked me over to L and D, where the front desk stopped Jeremy so he could fill out paperwork as Cora told them to not keep him long; this baby was coming soon. At this point it was finally becoming more clear to me that I was not going to be in labor for many more hours, and as Cora said, I would get to meet my baby in just a few minutes. "A few minutes" seemed to be a  huge exaggeration to me at the time, but doulas know labor.

My room was ready when I got there, and it seemed nurses were all over the place. Immediately I got my clothing situated and up onto the bed, where my dilation was checked. At "8-9 centimeters," I was momentarily disappointed, thinking I'd be complete, or almost, just as my first check had been with Josie. Cora told me to do what I felt I needed to do, which meant to push if I felt like I could. Some of the details are fuzzy already, since that is why women will go through this more than once a lifetime, but I remember Cora telling me to listen to what Dr. Hutch was saying. He was the laborist at the hospital at the time, and I had heard great things about him. However, I couldn't see him, since I was on hands and knees, and I hadn't tuned into his voice until then or even known he was there. He coached me along, letting me know when the best time to push would be and when to hold off, all the while standing back, very casually observing. Jeremy was standing nearby, as was Cora, but otherwise I was oblivious to my surroundings. I pushed, decided I couldn't do it, realized I had no choice, pushed some more, chomped down and bent a wire on my braces (so much for all the Hypnobirthing techniques I studied), pulled an intercostal muscle (that still hurts 5 months later), heard a little sound from the baby, and then she was born! I rolled over and was immediately handed my precious and perfect Coral Ethelyn June.

I held my sweet Coral while her cord was cut by Jeremy, she started nursing, and I recounted how HARD that had been, since of course I had forgotten so much since Josie's birth. "I felt like I was pushing the entire time we were at the hospital until she was born!" I told Jeremy, "It seemed much longer than with Josie!" Only then did I realize that I WAS pushing almost the whole time we were at the hospital, since we got there around 6 and she was born at 6:20. Next I looked around the room for my "birth photographer," Jenny, who hadn't quiiiiite made it in time. She got there about 15 minutes too late, but given the early hour, we couldn't blame her. The kids at home had slept until after their sister was born, so they woke to the surprise and excitement that she was here early.

My great aunt Ethelyn, one of my favorite people of all time, always told us not to name a poor baby after her (when we threatened it). Having delivered loads of babies in her house-call-making days as a general practice doctor, there are more than a few named after her already, but none in the family. I think she would be tickled to have this sweet baby as her namesake.

We sure love her so!

And Another Year Went By

Since I have claimed this little space on the internet, I might as well put it to use and keep writing. My poor kids will have no documentation of their existence for the last 16 months, if you don't count Instagram, Facebook, thousands of regular old pictures, and any scraps of paper on which they have expressed their artistic abilities, which I have stored away for later perusal.

As long as I am not documenting any triathlon-related experiences of my own these days, I might as well turn to my much more active family for stories. My little kids are quickly becoming big kids, if they do say so themselves, and in comparison to the new baby we will welcome in early spring, they will be mature and loud and giant. We chose the path of homeschooling for this year, which does not come naturally to me, to put it mildly, even though I had dreams of becoming a teacher when I was a little girl.

I am hoping to document a bit more of life on here, using it as my personal diary and record as I have in the past, with a small idea of returning to some sort of more-athletic shape than I have been in for some time now. Isn't that what New Year's hopes and dreams are made of?

Happy 2019!

The summer of no triathlon

It's not too late for me to change my mind, which I am inclined to do now and then. But I have mostly decided that the 20 year streak will end this year with zero triathlons completed. I can run, I can ride my bike, and I'm assuming I can still swim, but the desire to go out and just complete a slow race still eludes me. It isn't the end of the tri career, but I am not going to go out and putter through just to say I did it.

The summer is going too quickly anyway. We spend a lot of time swimming. Again, Hunter has taught us that if we just leave him alone, he will figure things out. Like swimming. And math, and all kinds of random things that keep me asking, "where did you learn that?" It just goes to show you don't have to "potty train" or take "swimming lessons." Along the lines of some of my significant life choices, if you just let things be, they can usually work themselves out.

A lot of the past month has been traveling; we went back to New Mexico, Santa Fe in particular, for the first time since moving to LR. The air was so clear, crisp, and thin. Over 7000' of elevation, to which I am completely not acclimated anymore. The friends were just like I last left them: wonderful, entertaining, and fun. The scenery and hiking were gorgeous, and the latter was a bit different than when we used to run alone, just Jeremy and me. But much more exciting.

 

 

In mid-July we set sail on a Disney cruise to the Bahamas, which was an exciting, beautiful, activity-filled trip that didn't stop when we disembarked. We went on to the Magic Kingdom for a couple of days to finish tiring us out completely.

 

 

 

It was all kind of perfect for us, and I hope it filled the little ones with lots of great memories of adventure.

 

I did do a 5K at Castaway Cay. It consisted of half an hour of staging, a half mile walk to the start with the group, half a dozen people sprinting off the start line, and about 3 men beating my 8 minute mile pace. I had no one around, little motivation, and plenty of humidity. Glad I did it.

 

 

Now here we are in August, starting to think about the upcoming school year. This time, I'm actually excited about the school year. We are doing things a little differently than most for the start of Kindergarten. And I think it'll be perfect for Hunter. To be continued...

Summer Start

I am just going to dive right in and pretend it has not been over two months since I last posted. So let's see, I wanted to keep a good record of all things hip labrum repair and my incredible return to running faster than ever. That is a post for a later time, like when it has actually happened. My back got all painful again after the nerve regrew, and instead of cutting it off once more, I opted for PT, then more PT, with a much closer and different set of eyes. He is encouraging me to "hinge forward!" as he often calls out across the therapy floor when I'm looking a bit too sway-backed (which is apparently all of the time). Does this mean that I don't actually have a giant booty, but I just stick it too far out? Hmmm.

Apparently I am a structural nightmare. My facet joints are all inflamed from being crunched together, but at the same time there is too much movement in the lumbar spine. I have mild dysplasia in my right hip, but also an impingement if I extend it back too far, which is what happens when I try to tuck my hips and run. The newest PT is now accusing my right leg of being longer, but he said I don't have scoliosis because I'm strong. I know, I almost laughed when he called me that too, and then I realized that most of his patients are probably senior citizens, so relatively, yeah.  It does make more sense that the less exercise I do, the more things hurt. I have spent the last 5 years getting weaker, slower, more lordotic, and older. The PT also said I have taken good care of myself, of which I had recently been thinking the opposite. My aunt used to tell me to slow down, even before I fully comprehended the ill effects of my chosen sport (long distance specifically). Thanks #science.

My goal, since it is now unofficially SUMMER!! is to start extending my piddly little trainer rides to longer than 40 minutes and maaaaybe do some outdoor rides, you know, like a bike is made to do. Running will begin again, or uh, has begun again actually, if you can call it running.

Something about the trails between Watercolor and Seaside down on the Emerald Coast make it completely impossible to not run. Darn little scenic houses with white picket fences lining the smooth, sandy, pine-needled trail, and the wooden bridges over the dark alligator-infested lily-pad covered lakes force me to run. And not just once, but two days in a row. Luckily Jeremy was busy racing Gulf Coast and I didn't get a chance to go more when we were down there two weeks ago.

I'm sure we will be getting plenty of travel and swimming in this summer for my little fish.

That water!

 

 

No, I promise they were actually thrilled to be there! :)

Growing

I think it would surprise anyone who has seen the (very low) frequency of my posting here to know that I have been keeping a daily paper workout log for over a decade now. Maybe more like two decades. I am missing one important year in which a newfangled online training log was all I kept, and once I quit, it was erased. So how did I manage that best performance in Kona? I'll never remember, although it was truly short of outstanding anyway. I have skipped a few weeks here and there, for a week or so after Hunter and Josie were born before I returned to walking, or those 3 weeks of non-weight-bearing after hip surgery. I have gone from detailing the workout, how I felt, how many pounds of sweat I lost, the temperature, and who my company was, using two pages per week, to squeezing in two months on those same two pages, line by line.

These past two weeks I should just be skipping as well, although I can write "PT" in on certain days. After my ablated nerves decided to regrow so that they could finally get their pain signal back to my brain, like the doctor said was likely, I realized that I could go right back to the pain clinic or I could try to do something to restructure everything that's out of whack. This is a big job for my lucky physical therapist. He came so highly recommended that I drive half an hour each way before sunrise twice a week to have him tell me to stop picking up things like children, bending, sitting too long, riding my trainer and running, rolling my quads in a plank position, and most any chores around the house (sorry husband!). If I could just stop weight bearing, everything would heal a little faster. Problem is, I can't call in sick, nor can I stay off my feet. I'm winning to be on my feet without holding both kids at once.

Oh OK, I'll climb the tree with you.

If I'd had any plans to take my new age group by storm this year, now that I am officially a master's athlete, I could forget them now. Luckily I had no big aspirations to kill. I knew it was a long road back from all these structural defects, but I didn't plan on having to take up an entirely new sport, something a little more leisurely, quite yet. I can hear my mitochondria dying off. But at least my hunger has subsided. I cannot justify a daily half pint of Milk 'N' Cookies ice cream when I am instructed to sit on my rumpus all day. But then again, I do have milk to make for the baby... Justified!

While watching myself age, very up close when plucking gray hairs and using extra strength wrinkle cream, I also get to watch the little ones grow like weeds. (After looking at smooth young baby faces all day long, does anyone else kind of surprise themselves when they look in the mirror? No, just me?)

My big one is 5 today!  And he is turning into my little sidekick. Our latest adventures, besides sword fighting, climbing things, and getting dirty, include painting. Every once in a while I get on artsy kicks and whip out the old acrylics and canvases. Hunter has been showing me up and creating some quality abstracts. I'm too shy about mine to actually post them, so here is the real artist's work.

He named the first one Forest of the World.

He also cooks, decorates his own birthday cake, and builds incredibly complex lego jets much better than I do. My little dude is quite the imaginative, perceptive, determined boy. And still a favorite around here.

 

 

 

 

 

Undertraining

I'm so busy you guys! Just kidding, I don't purposefully use that excuse because isn't everyone?

I actually steer clear of the writing of the blog posts due to my defense mechanism: avoidance. It mostly reminds me of my injuries, lost abilities, and things I only wish I could write about.

There are dozens of great kid pictures

to post for the grandparents to check out, many stories of the little ones buried in my brain crevices to write down. Kids are so cute and funny! And time consuming? Yes. But cute and funny first.

Consuming the majority of my limited computer time these days is USA Triathlon and its biennial recertification requirements. I don't need to do all that much, but I do manage to cram it all into the last few weeks of alternate years. Of course since this is the area I have chosen to study in my free time since grad school, I enjoy learning more, but time is at a premium. The main thing I have gotten from my study so far is this: keep your elbows high under water. Just do it. (Credit: Sheila Taormina's book, Call the Suit. Totally worthwhile read.)

As far as my pitiful undertraining efforts are going, I was much less optimistic just a few weeks ago. I am having more hip pain, or back pain; who knows? because it is all quite continuous these days. After a couple of nerve blocks plus some steroids, I went in for a really wonderful nap in the anesthesiologist's office, but they woke me up to ask where I felt the tingling. It was in my hamstrings and glutes at the time, which I surprisingly remember. He singed a few nerves back there from L3-S1 and sent me home to wait 3 weeks to feel better. It took 3 weeks to feel much difference, but I *think* it is slightly less painful after 4.

My three sticks in the back. No wonder the spinal erector muscles were sore. They got a good needling.

After several weeks of 2x3 mile runs, then a 4 or 5 miler thrown in here and there, I went out and ran a flat 6 miles. Limping the next day from pain in the groin and hip flexors made me take off 2 weeks from running and get addicted to a new show while on the trainer: Dexter. Why did nobody tell me to watch this before? I can pretend I like riding the trainer now.

I'm turning 40 in a couple months and I don't see any PRs in the future. I'd get into some other sport, like weight lifting, but I really can't squat to parallel without my hip popping and eventually pestering me. I learned this by picking up toys endlessly one day. I suppose I could swim with my newfound technique, but it can be so hard to get into water when it's cold!

I haven't quite convinced myself that I'll never get back into racing or being at least closer to my former speed, but I am slowly accepting that few people actually get it back after this surgery. More than once I have been told that I am just getting older and this is what happens to older bodies. And some days I may lose a little more motivation because of that, even though I know 39 is not too old to be fast. Why couldn't I have been one of the moms who have this amazing postpartum fitness? But enough crying in my soup. I can still do a lot of things. Like hike with my big kid.

Since it has been no less than 2 months since my last post, we go from the beach to Christmas. In between I spectated at Ironman Louisville and watched my three amazing athletes Ironman very successfully. It was such a motivating day, it almost made me sign up. So I put Jeremy on it, and he's racing Chattanooga next year. Living vicariously again.


Thanksgiving was full of family and sisters who love me. Actually we just seemed to always pose as though I was either dying or worthy of congratulations, so of course we made fun of ourselves.

We had an extra little furry being in the house, but this one sat contentedly in laps while squeaking a cute little tune and driving the cats insane. Meet Princess Brownie Julia. Now we apparently need a guinea pig.

 

We still love you most, Bear. For your patience, foremost.

 

Thanksgiving week turned out to be beautiful. For as much as I do not like fall and it's rainy, cold, impending winter self, we do have a pretty nice view from our upstairs back deck that I have appreciated more than usual this year (since it has been unusually warm).

   

And this little one has LOVED being outside regardless of weather conditions. 

   

Now onto Christmas season we go. Hunter is our master decorator this year, having arranged the hickory nuts on the hutch with the greenery,

 and single-handedly placing every ornament on this tree by himself. I don't want to brag, but y'all, he is good! He got a tall bar chair out and climbed right up to work.

He even made ornaments himself. I love the crayon filler. It's so him. And me. Crafting out of craft supplies.

 

The cats and baby have been loving the tree. And I love this picture for Josie's face, which shows that she is not being overly gentle with bear (squeeeeeezing him no doubt), and I also love it for the blue painter's tape, which is obviously holding the paper snowflake ornament on the tree.

 

 

A big Merry Christmas to all!