a friendly reminder

Birthday Cake Remix

You still owe me one, Mr. Murri.

Just sayin' :)

a few musings

Today is a sad day.

Well, I guess more for my husband than for me.

Along with a few ridiculous photos, let me explain.

The hubs is in love with the Boston Celtics.

And today they traded out Kendrick Perkins {aka Grumps McGee}...

I'll bite your face off.

...Nate Robinson {aka Shorty Eagle Throat}...

I don't even know what to say about this one...

...Marquis Daniels {aka My Fair Braidy}...

Mah hair! Mah hair!

...Semih Erden (aka Turkey-Lurkey)...

English? Le sigh. I have no idea what these people are saying...

 ...and Luke Harangody {aka Hairy-Goaty. Original, eh?}

Phoooootoshop...

I know that I am the last person who should be allowed to make fun of sports since I am the least athletic human ever created, but if I am forced {okay...maybe not really forced...but if I want quality time with the hubs...}to watch hours and hours of bouncing leather torture, I have to find some fun in it somehow...

So, while this is all so heartbreaking for Tyrel, who am I supposed to entertain myself with? Totally more heartbreaking for me.

No more giggling at how funny Perkins looks when he runs...

Or making gagging noises at Nate's nasty tattoos when they zoom in on him for free-throws.

Sigh.

At least I still have Shaq.

 

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In other news, it has been Grumpy Baby Week in the Murri household.

The reason?

Gas.

Oh, the gas! Poor gassy baby. 

Poor frustrated parents.

If she isn't eating or sleeping, she is screaming.
Luckily, thanks to lots of Mylicon drops and some shiatsu massages {compliments of } Tyrel {and if the massages didn't work, it was just adorable watching him try it out}, I think we are on the downhill.
At least she sleeps well {for the most part} once we have soothed her.

I will have to remember to apologize when she is older for all of the names we have called her this week, mainly Turd-Face, Poop, and Pain-in-the-Butt. I have a feeling, however, that this will not be the only moment we use them during her lifetime.


At least the gas has produced a belcher that a daddy can be proud of. Right, Tyrel?


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Gassy babies burp.
Burping brings spit-up.
Spit-up ends up on Mommy.

No one tells you that you turn naaaaasty when you become a mom.

You get to say a short, unexpected goodbye to personal hygiene and a loooong hello to seemingly permanent ickiness.
Maybe it's just me, though...cause I see lots of cute moms with little newborns. My head spins trying to figure out how they do it.


On a good day, I get a shower.


 On a great day, one coat of mascara makes it onto my eyelashes {which usually ends up being worn through the next day...and next day...}.

On an excellent day, I get to put real clothing on, not just my spit-up on pjs from the night before. And the night before that.

On an unheard of day {one day I will see you!!!!}, I will get to do my hair. Seriously.
The baby even looks at my hair and makes gross faces. I'm not kidding.
Nasty.


I am truly lucky to have a sweet husband that constantly tells me that I am still the most beautiful girl in the world, despite my rat-top, dry skin, and flabby post-pregnancy body {helloooo wide hips, jiggly thighs, deflated tire-tummy, and ba-dooooonk-a-donk in the back...}.


The thing that amazes me is that it is all worth it. Somehow. You just don't even care :)
Thanks, Little Gassy One.
I adore you.

one month eye-candy

My baby is one month old today.

{I don't know how I feel about it}

We celebrated with me taking tons of pictures while Kemry ate, pooped, and slept. 

All the things she does like a pro.

 

 

why i am more than happy to smell like spit-up and sour milk

Ooooo I loooooooove her!

 

I can't believe she is almost one month old. Wowza.

She snorts, smiles, and giggles when she sleeps.

And she squeaks and squeals when she is starting to wake up.

She loves to suck on her hands.

And she likes to copy me when I stick my tongue out at her and raise my eyebrows.

She likes to sleep on her right hand.

And she hates her carseat.

The sound of water running in the kitchen sink calms her down when she is crying.

And she looooooooooves taking baths.

She is the spit-up Queen.

And she had her first blow-out last night. Sweet.

She loves to cuddle with me while I watch Grey's Anatomy on Netflix.

And she hates it when I put her down.

She finally sleeps in her crib, all by herself.

And she usually only wakes up once during the night.

She has her daddy's feet.

And her eyes are the most beautiful ones I have ever seen.

Bah. Seriously the cutest thing ever.

 

Yes?

xoxoxox

Wrelly,

You might never read this, but I like you. A lot. Even with your addictions to basketball, Ranch Corn Nuts, and complicated electronics. Thanks for being my very first {second...third...} Valentine ever. Here is to a million more!

xoxoxox

Vanny

what i'm thinking about this sunday

 

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Don't forget your 'I-love-you's :)

baby, part 2

Bah. So cute.

It is amazing how quickly you fall in-love with this little someone that you hardly know!

It makes it tough to watch them, all tiny and defenseless, fight through little struggles of their own.

Our little girl came out a little jaundiced {I joked that it was due to all the carrots I ate during pregnancy, since I thought she looked more orange than yellow}, so she had to snuggle up with a little BiliBlanket for the first few days of her life.

Totally cuter than my Gloworm I had when I was a kid. Just sayin'.

As we were getting ready to discharge and pack our bundle-of-joy in her carseat, the nurse informed us that Kemry had a fever above their worry-level, so she would have to be admitted to the NICU for a few days. 

I was hanging strong as the nurse told us all of the tests they were going to run...until she said "lumbar puncture."

WHAT?

You are going to do a spinal tap on my 2-day-old baby?!?

The nurse left, I turned to Tyrel, and I freaked out. We were both sobbing because we had no idea how serious this was, and the doctors were certainly not reassuring us with "She is going to be fine" comments.

Tyrel and I were discharged but decided to room-in at the hospital so we could at least feed her when she needed and could see her when we wanted.

So. The next few days were filled with waiting. And hoping. And praying.

Our poor little girl was hooked up to all sorts of machines, had a splint on her arm for her IV, and was sporting all sorts of tiny band aids.

She was the only infant in the NICU, so I was lovingly-known as "NICU Mom."

The nurses were wonderful. One even made a little mobile to put above Kemry's crib so it seemed a little more homey.

We were free to come-and-go and had to be creative to occupy our time. Tyrel hooked up our PS3 to our room's TV so we could watch Netflix and Ty could play sports games.

We totally took advantage of the "free" food while we were there. I cannot tell you how many 4-packs of Oreos I ate. Apparently Sunkist Orange Soda was not popular in October. Or November. Or December. Maybe January would do the trick?

After 48 hours of waiting and waiting for tests to culture, all her results came back negative. We were finally good to go home. We have no idea what caused her high fever, but by that point, we didn't care. We just wanted a healthy baby at home with us.

One really tired mommy and one really tired daddy packed up one really precious (and still yellow-colored) baby and went home...really tired :)

oh my goodness. i just had a baby {the longest post ever}

We have a baby!

I guess we have had a baby for over 2 weeks now...and I am finally getting around to blogging about it.

I guess you can say that babies are a handful.

Or two.

Or five...which means that, even though I am missing about 3 hands, I still get to take care of this little lovely.

And I love it :)

I seriously have tried to blog since a few days after she was born, but every time I open up a new post, something happens that needs my attention. 

But here I am, making another attempt.

Thus, here is my baby story :)

At my lovely 39-week check-up, my doctor determined that I was still only 1 cm dilated but believed that she could try to move things along with a membrane sweep. Ouch. We can skip the yummy details of what that entailed.

I went home and crashed on the couch, not feeling that great. 

And then I start to feel them...you know, contractions.

But I had no idea if that is what they were or not. They certainly did not feel like my Braxton Hicks, but they were somewhat painful and were happening about 10 minutes apart. 

This happens aaaaaaallllllllllll daaaaaaayyyyy looooooonnnnnngggggg. When Tyrel got home from work, we went to the mall so we could walk laps, hoping that would move us along.

We timed those darned contractions until about midnight, where they were about 7-8 minutes apart. We decided to go to bed, realizing that we needed sleep more than anything. 

That didn't last long. 1:30 am rolls around, and I wake up with a naaassssty contraction. I get up, drink some water, and walk back to bed. As I sit on the bed, wham. Another one. Not really 7 minutes apart anymore. 

I decided to time a few, just to check, and then go back to bed...but when I realized that they were coming about 4 minutes apart, bed wasn't where I was going to be going. I wake up Tyrel, and we pack the rest of our bags. The doctor told us to go to the hospital when our contractions were about 5 minutes apart, so we head to the hospital...at 2:45 in the morning. Zzzzzzzz.

We walk in and ask for a labor check. They take me to my room where I change and wait...and wait...and wait...

Finally the nurse comes in...unfortunately with the "Great...first-time parents overreacting" look on her face. We were 99% sure they were going to send us home.

She concludes that I am only dilated to a 2 and tells me that I need to dilate more than that in the next hour if we didn't want to go home (like I had much of a say in what my freaking cervix does..). Tyrel and I walk and walk and walk, stopping with each contraction since they HURT. 

After an hour, we waddle back to the delivery room and wait for the nurse. Guess what. Still at a 2. As I start bracing myself emotionally for the "go home and don't come back until you are really in labor" talk, the nurse notices my contractions on the monitor. She gets a puzzled look on her face and says, "Hm. Your contractions are really close together and are getting pretty strong."

Really? Gee. I had no idea! {End of sarcasm}

"I'm going to call your doctor..."

...10 minutes later..."She says to keep you another hour. Do you want me to unhook you so you can walk around or do you just want to stay in bed?"

At this point, she could see the pain grimaces in my face and seemed to understand when I told her that I just wanted to stay in bed.

Tyrel took this embarrassing picture of me breathing through my contractions...which I thought were bad at the time...but little did I know...

Pretty attractive, eh?

An hour passes, still at a 2...but with stronger contractions. 

"Do you want me to try to convince her to induce you today"

Yes, please. I am not going home and sitting through this for another few days.

Aaaaaand I'm admitted to the hospital. 6 am. Finally.

Tyrel calls my mom and tells her to bring my dad out with her {she was going to leave that morning regardless and help me around the apartment until I had the baby and was going to fly dad out when I went into labor}, and we start to get excited. We are going to have a baby!

Luckily for me, the euphoria helps the pain to not seem so nasty :)

We return to the waiting game.

I meet the doctor who will be delivering my baby, drink lots of apple juice {and even a little food...the lovely, new shift nurse let me sneak some since I hadn't eaten since 5 the previous night and a long day was ahead of me.}, and try to nap.

The nurse tells me that I should walk for another hour and then take a bath in the sweet jetted tub, hoping that would speed things up.

Eventually, they come in to check on me and find that I am now at a 2 1/2. 1/2 a centimeter? That's it? All of that waiting and I only progress 1/2 a centimeter? The nurse prepares me with some bad news..."The doctor is old-fashioned and likes first-time moms to have their babies when their bodies are ready. He might send you home to move along on your own." You could pretty much hear my heart breaking.

The doctor comes in and gives me three options: {1} You can go home and labor there. {2} We can put you on a morphine nap and hope that you are ready to have the baby when you wake up. {3} I can break your water.

I wasn't going home, that's for sure. And as good as morphine sounded, I was ready for him to just break my water. The contractions were just getting worse, and I was getting sick of being pregnant.

The nurse warned me that my contractions were going to intensify and come a lot more frequently after the doctor breaks my water.

I'm tough. I can handle it.

So. Pop. Gush. Ow. OW. OWWWWWWWWWW.

Apparently, I'm not as tough as I thought.

And I also realized that my "pain" earlier was more like a slight discomfort. Not pain at all. 

Now I was in pain. And not far along enough to have my epidural.

The nurse gave me some pain meds through my IV to "take the edge off." It seemed to be helping, so Tyrel decided he was going to run home and shower. He was gone about 10 minutes when my pain was back to a 10. I paged the nurse and, sure enough, I am at a 4 1/2, just like that. Give me that freaking epidural.

She tells me that the anesthesiologist had one lady to give an epidural to, and she was dilated to an 8, so she needed it a little more than I did. "Give him 20 minutes."

So I wait. And wait. And Tyrel comes back. And we wait.

3 more IV pain injections and 40 minutes later, I finally get my epidural.

I made it to a 6 without one. How people go all the way without blows my mind. That was the most pain I have EVER felt...so I was extremely glad that I could now no longer feel anything below my waist :)

From there, I just napped my labor away. Nap, nap, nap, puke (ew, apple juice), nap, nap.

Tyrel watched a Celtics game on TV and ate cookies. Pretty much in heaven.

The next thing I realize, the next shift nurse came in, checked me, and told me that we were ready to push.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAT?

I don't even know how to push.

Well, after 1 1/2 hours of "not knowing" how to push (and falling asleep in between pushes...10:15 pm to be exact), we heard a little squeal.

And then there was a cute, little baby on {and no longer in} my belly. She turned her head to look at me and cried her little baby cry while staring into my eyes. Amazing.

We had had a baby :)

Tyrel refused to cut the cord {as did I. Ew.}, and my doctor offered to show the placenta to us. Ty saw a glance of it, and I decided I wanted to just look at my baby instead {"It just looks like red koolaid!" Thanks, Doc!}.

The nurses cleaned and bundled our little one up.

She was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, cone head, swollen eyes, bent ears, and all.

You couldn't get that baby out of Tyrel's arms. And that might have been the most precious thing I have ever seen :)

Tyrel's parents and my brother Lyle were waiting right outside to come see us once we had her. Daddy left and helped the nurse give her a bath while I took another one of my own. Our heads hit the pillow at 2:00 am, and my parents rolled in the next morning.

Long day, but totally worth it :)

Kemry Elle Murri

January 21, 2011

6 lbs, 13 oz

20 1/2 inches

Perfect :)

Well, I guess this isn't really the end of our story. 

A little jaundice and some NICU lovin' to follow.