Happy Birthday Lilly-bug

A year ago today.
An entire year. Oh my goodness. It's gone by so incredibly fast, and yet so unbelievably slow.
A year ago today, I delivered a perfect little girl into this world. A little girl who would never take a breath outside of my womb. I carried her for 39 weeks and 5 days. Full term. And yet, she didn't survive. You think that once you get past the viability mark, you're baby will survive no matter what- at least, that's what we thought.

It's incredible how much I have changed in this past year. I am an entirely different person now because of my daughter. Before, I was happy, carefree, daring, invincible. Now, I know that I can be brought down and nearly destroyed. I now know what true happiness is, and I know the feeling of true heart break. I know that there will always be a reason to worry, that nothing is a given- that anything and everything can be taken from you in the blink of an eye. Nothing, and no one, is safe.

I used to be naive. Sometimes I wish I could have that back. But then I remember if I had that naivety back, I wouldn't have Lilly. And I don't want that. Despite the pain and hell I have gone through since her passing, I would never wish her away. I would relive this entire year if only I could hold her again. That's crazy, right? Wanting to deliver a dead baby again, recovering from that delivery, undergoing surgery to fix what went wrong on my end during delivery, the depression, the PTSD, the slight addiction to pain killers which I developed, the weekly therapy sessions, the months of infertility, the side effects from the infertility medications, the insensitive comments, the crying... So much ugly crying- the kind where you can't control yourself and every hole in your face leaks. But I would do it again. I would. Just to hold her. To see her face again. Just to feel her weight in my arms. To hold her hand, to look at her tiny toes, to search her face for likeness to my own.

You know what sucks the most? We wanted her. We wanted her from the beginning- before the beginning. Do you have any idea of all the testing and needles I endured just to get pregnant with her? The worry that something might have gone wrong because of a medication I took before we knew I had conceived? There are parents who have "whoops" babies all the freaking time. Drug addicts who become pregnant, mothers who leave their babies at the hospital- sometimes I like to think "why did mine die? Why not theirs? They don't even want their babies." It's frustrating. And I know we don't have it as bad as others- I've met mothers whose babies were conceived through IVF, and theirs were stillborn full term as well. It's their stories that hurt my heart even more. They wanted their child just as much as we wanted ours. They paid thousands of dollars just to conceive, and their child still wasn't safe. It's sad. This is an unfair world. An incredibly cruel, and unfair world.

And I hate that we can't watch her grow up. Instead, I watch other children who were born within a few weeks of her death and delivery. First birthday photos have started floating around Facebook. Chubby baby cheeks covered in frosting, adorable photo shoots... We don't get that... We didn't get to see her roll over for the first time, crawl for the first time, to take her first steps. I wasn’t even able to dress her-not even once. I'm not able to see what face she would have made if I were to give her a lemon slice. I haven't changed hundreds of diapers, cleaned spit up off my shirt, or cleaned poo from the bathtub. There have not been sleepless nights filly by a crying infant- instead, they were full of my own crying. I should have been planning her birthday party- I should have been decorating a cake in pink frosting. I may have even have waited to announce our current pregnancy till her birthday if she were still here. That would have been fun, wouldn’t it? Picture Lilly, with her big cheeks, a huge bow, her little toothy grin and waving with balloons around her and a shirt that says “Big Sister.”

This past year has been hard. Sooo incredibly hard. But you know what? It’s also been pretty great. Yeah, it’s been hell, but we have had so much love and support from all of our family and friends. And I have seen how God placed special people in my path this entire time. I didn’t know why I was so compelled to go to Madison Women’s Clinic when I knew I had fertility problems. At the time, I just felt like it was the right place to go. And now I know why- both of the OBs who practice there were so incredibly kind and caring after we learned of Lilly’s passing (they were cool before, but were so much cooler after). Turns out, both doctors had also experienced stillborn children. They knew the feelings and emotions and trials that my husband and I would go through. They had walked the path that we were now walking. And the nurses! I loved all of the nurses who ever took care of me. I got to know the receptionists over the two and a half years that I visited that office. When I returned for my six-week check up, they took me back and cried with me. They cried with me! I have been able to be there to support other mothers through similar circumstances because of what I have experienced. And because of our daughters passing, Mr. Barcenas and I have grown together like I never knew we could before. Our relationship has strengthened and solidified. Before, we had it good. Like any other couple, we would argue every now and then, and we loved each other. It really was a great relationship before. But now, we have a different kind of love. It’s deeper, and in my opinion, something that will be much harder to break or fade away. We’ve survived what I believe to be one of the most difficult trials that God could have thrown our way. And we are so much stronger because of this. I really think that’s been the best thing to come out of Lilly’s death- how my marriage is better.

I’m hoping that this next year continues to get easier, and that the pain will be easier to handle. I remember where I was at just nine months ago, and to compare that time with now is crazy- I’m in a much better place emotionally now, and I can handle my emotions better. Sure, I still cry, I still miss my daughter, and I still want her here, but my scars have thickened, and the same painful jabs don’t hurt as bad.

Feel free to talk to me

I have received a few texts and messages from friends and family who always start out our new conversation with "blah blah blah made me think of you, and I hope you aren't offended  and I didn't know how to bring it up but I felt like I really needed to share it and I love you and blah blah blah." 
Guys, seriously. If you want to talk to me, then do it! Don't be afraid. If an article you read makes you think of me or my daughter, send it my way! I would love to know you're thinking of us. It makes me feel loved, and it makes me feel like she isn't forgotten. I have a few friends who send me pictures of Lilly-bugs they find all the time, and I LOVE IT. Okay? I ABSA-FREAKING-LOVE-IT! I add it to my collection of Lilly-bug pictures. I have an entire album in my icloud, and I make sure to write down who saw/sent it to me. 
Just because you think mentioning my dead baby will upset me doesn't mean that it will. I love it when people talk about her with me. I love it when friends send me music videos and articles that they think I might find comforting. Because most times, I actually do find them comforting. And if I've already seen what you're sending me, it seriously is the thought that counts. 
So feel free to talk to me! Feel free to tell me that you're thinking of me, don't be afraid that I'll bite your head off. Because I won't. I have no reason to. 
I'm seriously a super honest and open person. Since Lilly died, it's like I no longer have a filter. It's crazy, but it's also probably for the best. People are learning from me and my experiences, and I find that amazing and empowering. 

And if by some crazy chance, some new loss mom has found this blog (well, it is public and it gets a surprising amount of hits), please email me. I have a huge list of resources you may find to be helpful. Or if you just need someone to type your story out to, for someone else to know that your baby lived and that they were here, someone who might actually get what its like to lose a baby, please contact me. I would love to help you in any way that I can. 

Ladybugs

So, if you know me, you know I have a thing for ladybugs. And this is the post where I explain why.
Lilly's nickname was Lilly-bug, so lady bugs kinda became her thing. Which is why they're my thing now. Every time I see one, I take a picture. I imagine it as if she's taking the time to say hello to me, or to give me a sign of encouragement. Now that it's winter, I won't be seeing them as often :/ which is kind of saddening, but ladybugs need a break, too. Maybe I'll find some other way to feel her love. 

The terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

Yesterday was a bad day. And I'll have those. I realize that. But I seriously SOBBED for three hours straight. And I'm not exaggerating, just ask Mr. Barcenas. And it was gross- head colds and crying for long periods of time do not go together very well. 

There was a commercial. That's all it took to set me off, a stupid commercial. All about babies firsts. Their first baths, their firsts steps, their first words, and all about how you don't want to miss a minute of it because babies grow up.

My baby never had the chance to grow up. She never had the chance to crawl for the first time, to take her first steps- she didn't even have the opportunity to take her first breath. Seeing that commercial just brought it all back- all that we're missing and all that we will miss. You realize that she might be taking her first steps by now? She might have even started babbling "mama" and "dada." I know that she wouldn't know what she was saying/doing, but it'd still be cute. And it's all of those cute little moments that we are missing. Hell, I would give anything to change one of her diapers right about now. Throw up in my hair? Bring it on! Because those things would mean that my daughter was here, that she was living and that her body was processing and working the way it should.

And you know what got me tonight? I can't remember what she looked like... Yeah, I have pictures, but it's not the same. I can't remember the way she looked in my arms as I held her for the first and last times. I can remember her weight and feeling that her body was warm and then cold. I can remember thinking that she was so tiny and so fragile, and yet so big and solid. How had this seven pound human fit in my body? I can remember the silence of the delivery room, I can remember specifically thinking that I needed to stare and memorize because I wouldn't have this moment again in my mortal life, but I can't remember her face no matter how hard I try. And I feel terrible about it. I feel like the worst mother in existence. I don't even have drugs to blame for my inability to remember- I had the epidural taken out by that point, and I had yet to feel the development of my hematoma so I hadn't been started on a morphine drip. You'd think that a mom would be able to remember her child's face without having to look at a photo. 

I've been wanting to share this photo for some time, but haven't known how to. I guess now is a good way and time. Do you see my face? That is a face of disbelief. That is the face of a mother who refuses to believe that her much wanted and prayed for child is gone from the world. And yet, it is also shock, because she realizes that despite how much she wishes, this is not a dream. This is real life. People may think this photo isn't pretty. I kind of like it. It captures a moment of grief. It shows that her delivery wasn't just sad faces and sad smiles. There were so many emotions that we were feeling actual physical pain.

In the beginning, I looked like this for months. I've slowly been able to come out of it, though. I'm learning how to smile and laugh again- to really smile and laugh, to not just put on a mask. But these moments will hit, and they will continue to do so- the disbelief, imagining that these past (almost) nine months have all been a terrible horrible dream, the pain- oh the pain. Sometimes it hurts just as bad now as it did back then. 

But I'm doing better than I was, and that's what matters

Cold weather

The cold air brings back memories. I went to the grocery store a couple weeks ago and I had to put on my jacket. I hadn't worn this jacket since I was pregnant, and I was slightly surprised when it zipped up easily. I couldn't do that the last time I had worn it eight months ago. I sat myself in the car and had a flashback to when I was happily pregnant. In my minds eye, I could see myself wearing a white long sleeved maternity shirt, my maternity leggings and boots. I imagined myself looking down, and seeing my large rounded stomach getting closer and closer to the steering wheel. I remember being so excited to meet my baby, so excited for the day when Mr. Barcenas and I would be able to drive down Main Street to the hospital to meet our baby girl. 

I remember the day we finally drove down the road to the hospital. It wasn't in happiness or eagerness. It was in sorrow and heart break. We knew our baby girl was gone by then and there was nothing we could do about it. I remember thinking that I just wanted her out- and yet again, I just wanted to hold on. I didn't want to let her go. 

It started snowing today. In the past, I LOVED snow. I loved everything about winter, I loved how I could bundle up, in sweaters and scarves. I feel like winter looks good on me. Now, I don't know. I was heavily pregnant with Lilly last winter. I first knew I had felt her move in the fall, I was about 17 weeks. Winter is when I would receive multiple and continuous kicks from her, constant reassurance that she was there with me. I would sit out with the dogs in subzero temperatures and poke her and wait for her reply. It was my favorite thing to do, bugging her. 
Winter just brings back memories. And they're not bad, really. They more bitter sweet- sweet, because they're memories of my daughter, bitter, because she's not here to enjoy this winter with me. Bitter, because they bring back sad feelings- feelings of longing and desire for what was and what should have been. Bitter, because I can't have what I had wanted more than anything. And I won't be able to have her again, not in this life at least. I have to wait. And I hate waiting. 

One of those days

Today is one of those days when I wish I could go back in time and do it all over again. I would experience the emotional and physical pain of delivering my stillborn daughter and reliving the hell I've been through just to hold her again. Just to hold her. She wouldn't even have to breath, I just want to feel her weight in my arms again. I would LOVE it if she took a breath and continued on living, but I know thats not possible. Heck, I know going back in time isn't possible, but I would still take the opportunity if it arose.
I have a confession to make.... I can't remember what she looked like. Yeah, I can look at her photos, but I personally cannot remember what she looked like. I can't remember her face as I saw it when I held her. I can remember all the imperfections that have been edited out of her photos. I can remember the feeling of her still weight in my arms. I remember thinking that she was so tiny, and yet so big at the same time. I remember not wanting to jostle her too much. At one point, I let her head tilt, and blood came out of her nose. I was so afraid that I was hurting her. I knew I wasn't, I knew she was gone, and yet the fear was still there. I didn't even unwrap her from the swaddle the nursed brought her to me in. 

Ha. When I was waiting for my photos to get in, I was so worried that I would never know what her butt looked like, or her ears. I never actually LOOKED at them. And I felt like a bad mom. How many other mothers wish they could get a good look at their babies butts? Funny, huh? There are so many things I wish I could go back and redo. I wish I had taken more "bump" photos, more videos of her moving, more recordings of her heart beat. This is the only one I have, and she has the hiccups. I love it so much :) It's from my appointment on December 29, I was in the middle of a non-stress test and she decided to be silly.

I miss her so much. I wish I had gotten to know her better here on earth. I really don't want to have to wait to see her again. I know I have to, but I don't wanna. I just want my baby back. 

I saved a life today

Wanna hear about how I saved a baby's life? Okay, okay. I didn't physically save a baby's life, but I sure did help! I am not sharing this because I'm proud, or because I like playing hero. I am sharing because it may inspire others to speak up when they feel the need to. That, and it's just such an awesome and amazing experience and I want to share it :) 

On one of my loss-moms Facebook support groups, a mother posted about how she was 38 weeks pregnant, and her baby had started doing these weird rythmic movements. He was head down, and the movements were too big to be practice breaths, and not quite right for hiccups. Well, I happened to have a video recording of Lilly doing JUST THAT VERY THING on February 12, just a week and a half before she was stillborn. That's when she started doing it. She had never done so till a week and a half before all hell broke loose. I showed the video to my OB and he said she was doing those movements because her cord was compressed. I felt as if I needed to tell the mother this. Maybe her situation would be different than mine, and her son would be okay and it's just some little quirk he has. But what if I was right? What if her sons cord was compressed, too? If I didn't tell her, and her child died, I would feel so incredibly guilty. I would feel as if I was to blame because I hadn't done anything about it- I hadn't shared my experiences knowing that the knowledge I have could save her and her baby. 

So told the worried mother. And apparently I freaked her out enough to go and visit L&D (THANK GOODNESS!) Turns out, her son was in distress and she had to have an emergency c-section right then. Her and her son are doing just fine now, but wow! Imagine what would have happened had I NOT said anything??? This sweet momma had already suffered three miscarriages. I can't even begin to imagine what a stillbirth would have done to her. There are so many emotions going through me because of this experience. Some of them are confusing and I don't understand them, but the biggest is happiness, and relief. I am so glad that I saw that post when I did- that I was able to share my experience and help her. 

This is the video I mentioned. Please excuse the dogs playing in the background. I placed the TV remote on my stomach so that my mom would be able to see Lilly moving easier (I sent this video to her in a text). It was very unlike Lilly to move so much. She never really was the most active baby. She really enjoyed stretching :) These kinds of movements would last anywhere between ten minutes to three hours. 

Night time brain ramblings

I'm writing this post at 11:00pm. My brain is going everywhere, so I can guarantee that this won't have the greatest flow. There pretty much won't be any transitions. This is just what my brain looks like during one of my downward depression cycles. It may not even make any sense to you, but I need to get this off my mind.I was looking through my old blog posts when I came across thisHA! Totally being over hating pregnant women. Now I don't think I will ever be over it. Not only am I jealous of their bumps and healthy babies, I am also jealous of their innocence. The thoughts of "oh, it can't happen to me! I'm doing everything right" or "I'm past 12 weeks! This baby is for sure going to live" and the "oh! We've reached the age of viability! We're totally good now." The funny thing is though, is that it's not true. I used to believe the same thing. I was going to church, reading my scriptures, paying my tithing, attending the temple, being active in my church callings. I was exercising and eating healthy, staying away from soft cheeses and deli meats. I ate sushi once, but it was cooked so I figured that would be okay. I did everything right, and my baby still died. We reached twelve weeks, and we announced our pregnancy. 24 weeks came along, and we believed our baby girl was going to live no matter what. The week before her due date, we had everything set up for her impending arrival. Boxes and boxes of diapers and wipes- a pack'n'play so she could sleep right next to my side of the bed- blankets, cute pacifiers, adorable hand made clothes- nursing bras and udder butter, cute nursing tops. The car seat was installed in the middle of the back seat, and the stroller was stored in the trunk. Everything was ready and just a few days later, she was gone. GONE. Just like that. No warning. Everything had been perfect. We had no reason to believe she wouldn't survive. We were at the END. Oh the innocence. I will never have that back. I will forever be fearful of my future babies dying right at the end. I won't be able to calm down till they're screaming in my arms. (This part gets a little TMI, proceed with caution)Ha, something I wish more people knew- you know how a mothers body prepares for the baby, and her breasts grow and fill with milk to sustain the child's life? Yeah, well, when your child dies your body is stupid and doesn't quite realize there isn't anyone to feed. There isn't an "off" switch for lactation, or postpartum hair loss, or the beautiful stretch marks that now cover you're stomach and breasts. You have to deal with everything, but without the living proof of why you're suffering. You try everything you can to stop it, but it still comes. Days after you deliver your baby, your breasts fill and ache because they're so engorged, but you dare not touch them because you fear of prolonging lactation. You drink nasty herbal teas that are supposed to stop it. You take allergy medicines to suppress it. You bind your chest as tight as you can and pray that it will stop. And eventually, it slows down. And if your lucky, it stops within a few weeks (I'm a freaking cow, I still haven't stopped completely even after six months of doing everything I can to stop it). And once you're lucky and have stopped lactating, you think to yourself "okay, I've got this." And then you look in the mirror and see the stretch marks. You see every scar that your baby placed on your body and it breaks your heart, because your child isn't there. You have no living proof who shows that you earned each and every one of those tiger stripes. You turn away from the mirror and head to the shower. As you're shampooing your curls, you pull handfuls and handfuls of loose hairs from your head. More reminders of what once was and what should have been. After you've showered you go to bed. It's a comfortable 68 degrees in your bedroom, and you still need a fan blowing on your body because the hot flashes are so intense. You wake up in a pool of your own sweat, even after stripping off all unnecessary clothing and turning the fan on high. The torture never seems to end. What was supposed to be Lilly's nursery is right next to our bedroom. I've got most of her things put away, but not everything fits into the closet. We've since converted the room into a sewing/storage room. Why pay for a storage unit when you've got an empty bedroom? Ugh... Life just really sucks right now... If only it would get better.Another thing that I'm having problems with? Why me. Why my baby. Why does she get a baby, and I don't? She's a stoner, is in an abusive relationship, doesn't love the father, already has six kids, can't afford the child, is living off of welfare, is an undeserving mother, only tried to conceive for two months, is a teenager, had a one night stand, etc. It just doesn't make any sense. We wanted our child. We prayed for her. I underwent multiple fertility tests. We payed for extra ultrasounds just to see her every chance we got. We moved into a two bedroom apartment just for her. We were both working and saving up so I could stay home with her once she was born. I took a semester off of school so I wouldn't have to stress about finals the month after she was born. We were doing everything right, and making adjustments so our lives would be perfect once she joined us. It's just not fair :( that's pretty much the biggest thing that I've learned in the past six months, that life is not fair... At least I have an amazing husband and great dogs 

Lillianna Marie

Welp, like always, life didn't quite work out how we had planned... Remember last time, how I was posting about being so excited to meet our baby girl and how we were so close and so blessed with the opportunity to become parents? Yeah, well, our baby died... There's probably a more tactful way to say that, but I can't really think right now. Ever since she died my brain has been one big bucket of confusion, depression,  jealousy, anger, sadness... One day, she was perfectly fine, the next, she was gone... 

Once I hit 28 weeks, I started NSTs twice a week. There was only one day when our baby girl wasn't moving as much as the nurse would like, so she had me drink apple juice and lay on my side. Only then did they get the movements they needed. That was on January 19. On February 12, we had our 38 week scan. Lilly's heart beat was at 110, and would barely spike while she was moving. Since it was still in the "normal" range, no one was worried. I ask the ultrasound technician if she could tell if the cord was around her neck or not. She told me that it went behind the neck, which was a good indicator that it did, but not to worry, because babies are born with their cord wrapped around their necks all the time. I knew this, so I didn't worry. On February 17, we went in for another NST. Once again, her heart beat was around 110. I informed my nurse practitioner that my baby was moving less than normal. I was told its normal for babies to move less towards the end of pregnancy, because they're running out of room. It made sense to me, so I didn't worry. February 18, I went hiking with my husband, our two dogs, and my brother and his one dog. At one point, the two youngest (6months and 4months, both weighing 40+lbs each) barreled into the side of my right knee. It dislocated and I fell down. I landed on my left side, and I have had harder falls during the pregnancy so I didn't worry. I didn't want to be the girl who cried wolf again (I had been in twice already for contractions that wouldn't stop for me). My mom arrived February 20, at like, 3:00am (Lilly's due date was February 23, so she wanted to be here in time for the birth of her first grand baby) I had an appointment that morning, so I woke her up to go with my husband and I. All of the NST monitors were full, so they just put us in the ultrasound room. I had a contraction right before the tech put the wand on my belly. I was convinced that it was my daughter stretching. It wasn't painful, and it was only tight on parts of my stomach. The tech started looking around, and said "I'll be right back, there's something I need the doctor to look at." She left, and my mom started asking me if I had felt the baby move. I said yes, just before the exam started. I was nervous, but also excited. I tend to look on the bright side of things. I was trying to convince myself that my baby wasn't doing well, but was still alive and that I would be meeting her that night. I was soooooo wrong... My doctor came in and told us that there was no heart beat. I just broke. How could there be no heartbeat??? My baby had just moved! What could have gone wrong?? She's been prefect the entire pregnancy, she couldn't just be gone like that. Doc started looking around and said that it was either the cord (which was wrapped around her neck) that caused her death, or a placental abruption. There was a dark spot behind the placenta (they've since decided that it was the cord). I had never bled, so I didn't even think there could be anything wrong. The nurses moved us to the opposite side of the office, to have some privacy (I think they also moved us because I was crying so loud and they didn't want to disturb the happily pregnant women). My mom started asking a whole bunch of questions that I can't remember now. All I know is that they were of the medical nature (she's a nurse). We decided to start the induction that night. I just wanted my baby out. I couldn't stand to think that she was inside of me, dead. My body is supposed to create life, not destroy it. 

We got home from the office and I just laid in bed, crying. My husband was speechless, and my mother continued to pack up our apartment (we were moving that weekend to a two bedroom apartment. That's a whole other story, though). We were scheduled for an 8:00pm induction. I unpacked her hospital bag, seeing as how she wouldn't need it. We left for the hospital, and the nurses put us in the largest L&D suit ever. Like, seriously. It could have been three rooms if they wanted. They started me on some sort of pill along with a sleeping aid, and I passed out till the morning. My contractions weren't bothersome, and I hadn't dilated any, so they started the pitocin and I got the epidural as soon as I could. My daughters birth was already going to be traumatizing, I didn't want it to be any worse. I wanted it to be a semi positive experience. Around noon on February 21, they broke my water. There wasn't much of it, and what was there was full of blood and meconium. Around 5:50, I started feeling pressure. I called my nurse in and she's like "let's have a look! How about you try a practice push." So I did, and she immediately told me to stop. She went and called my doctor, who came in a little after 6:00. By 6:09, my beautiful Lillianna Marie had silently entered the world. She was beautiful. The perfect little baby. I had made fun of Mr. Barcenas, always saying that I hoped our baby would have my nose, because it was cuter. She had his but his nose it's really cute in baby form, so that's okay. I held her while my doctor delivered the placenta (he later said it just came right out, it wasn't attached at all) and stitched me up (just one!). A nurse came and took Lilly to be cleaned up while my husband and I just held each other and cried. They brought Lilly back in, and a photographer from NLMDTS came in and took some pictures for us. She also brought us a teddy bear and photographed Lilly with it, so that we could later use the bear to represent her in our family photos (which is why you'll see a bear in our pictures). Once she left and we had said goodbye to our daughter, I got up to shower and use the restroom. It was then that I developed a hematoma. Worst pain in my entire LIFE! I had corrective surgery six weeks later once my doctor realized that it was larger than he has first thought (the size of a baseball! Ouch!). I had started seeing a counselor while I was pregnant for my depression and anxiety, and I still see him since Lilly died. I recently have stopped taking my antidepressants. I'm trying to decide if I still need to be on them or not. I've been off of them for just over a week now, and I've no idea if they're out of my system or what yet. I feel as if I've had more breakdowns since stopping them, but I don't know for sure. I'll have to bring it up in my next counseling session. 

I can tell that I'm doing better now than I was doing six months ago, but I still have hard days. And now it's even harder to see pregnant women who have no worry and are convinced that "that won't happen to me." I used to think the same thing. And now Mr. Barcenas and I are members of an exclusive club we never wanted to join.

I'm going to start using this blog as a place to talk about our baby and my feelings and what not. Of course I'll still use it for updates on us, but I've been told that I make people feel uncomfortable by posting about my feelings and experiences on social media, So, now you all have a choice as to whether or not you want to read it. 

And now, just because I'm like every other mother, I am going to post baby spam. These are the only photos I will ever have of my daughter, and I want to show her off like every other parent. 

 Grandmas first grand-baby

 He can make me smile even on the worst days

This is one of my all time favorite photos. He would be such a great father

29 weeks!

Finally in the third trimester- yay! I seriously can't wait till baby girl is here. Pregnancy suuuuuuucks. When I first found out I was pregnant, I asked my mom how her pregnancies were- she told me that she wasn't ever sick, and that she had relatively short labors (all under 12 hours). So far, I've been sick pretty much the entire duration of my pregnancy. I was constantly nauseous the entire first trimester and the majority of the second, and once that was over I got CRAZY bad heart burn- so bad that I ended up going to the hospital because the pain was too much to handle and I had already maxed out on my heartburn medications. Mr. Barcenas was really awesome about the whole ordeal. I had woken up around midnight because my upper stomach (where my actual stomach is right now) was hurting really bad. I took my last dosage of tums, took the dogs out (to see if walking would help it), laid down, flipped to each of my sides, tried laying on my stomach (propped up on pillows, of course), drank some milk- nothing seemed to help! So I called my doctors office- no one answered. So I then called my mom (she's an RN and had worked in a woman's hospital for a few years). She told me to go in and get everything checked out. This is when I finally woke Mr. Barcenas and told him I needed to go to the hospital. He didn't even question me! He just got out of bed, put some real pants on, and we went. He's pretty great :) Baby Girl ended up being fine. I just had so much acid in my stomach that it was irritating the stomach lining and causing a lot of pain. They gave me an IV and some meds and then sent me home.

I still have bad reflux, but it's gotten better since I've gotten better medications. The biggest sucky part right now is that Baby Girl keeps wedging herself up underneath my ribs, and then KICKING. It's quite uncomfortable! Oh, and cravings! Don't even get me started on those! I've wanted Chinese food for the past week, now, but there's no where to get good stuff here in Rexburg- I'm just waiting till Mr. Barcenas and I have to take a trip to Idaho Falls. THEN I will get me some Chinese food.

In other news- my baby shower is this weekend! I'm super excited :) I can finally start buying things for Baby Girl once it's over- Mr. Barcenas and I have been waiting till we see what people gift us before we start really getting ready. It makes sense, but it's really hard to resist buying baby clothes and blankets and furniture and stuff. I'll post up some baby shower pics from this weekend sometime next week :)