Joseph and I talked on the phone most nights during the
summer we were dating long distance. Joseph was selling pest control in Virginia, and I was with my family in Georgia. Sometimes we had lengthy conversations,
and other times it was a quick goodnight or “dream sweet” as Joseph would say.
When you’re dating someone seriously, it’s like you get to
meet your family again from an outsider’s perspective. You realize how quirky
your family is, and by quirky I mean awesome. One Stoker tradition that I
discussed with Joseph was Fruit Punch Day. It’s an annual holiday celebrated in
the Stoker family. You might think that it would correspond to National
Kool-Aid day, but it doesn't. It corresponds to the night Rebecca
had a dream about Fruit Punch Day. She woke up from this vivid dream and asked
my mom if it was Fruit Punch Day. Much to her credit, my mom responded that "Of course it
could be!" (she likes to encourage imagination and creativity), and what a
glorious day it turned out to be. As I was telling him this, Joseph acted like annual holidays from dreams turned
reality was the most natural thing in the world.
That Fruit Punch Day, much to my surprise, Joseph wished me a happy Fruit Punch Day on my Facebook wall. I thought it was adorable
that he remembered and that he wanted to celebrate. Little did I know that
Joseph was honestly and truly very very excited about Fruit Punch Day.
At the Stoker house that
year Fruit Punch Day was pretty relaxed (we ended up celebrating more fully the
next day). I spent most of my time working
as an extra for a TV show that was filmed in Atlanta (That’s right! I was on
TV). When I got home I was ready to go to bed, and then Joseph called.
I was pretty sure this was going to be one of those quick
goodnight kind of phone calls, but he kept on talking and talking. It started
out normal, we talked about our days and the awesomeness of Fruit Punch Day,
and then things seemed to be winding down so I tried to end the conversation
naturally, “Well it’s been great talking to you, but I better go to bed…” To
which Joseph would say “No wait you haven’t told me about ____ “(fill in the
blank with whatever nonsensical topic you choose, because that’s what Joseph
did). I humored him for a little bit, but I really was tired, and I really did
want to go to bed. When I tried to go to bed again and Joseph asked me about
the weather, I was a little dumbfounded and probably annoyed, “It’s nice now,
but we had the usual rainstorm this afternoon.”
Then Joseph asked, “Are you outside?”
“No, why would I be outside?”
“To feel the weather. What does the
moon look like?”
“Uh, It’s crescent shaped.”
“Would you go look at the moon outside?”I was
getting a little desperate to end the conversation, so I started saying
whatever I could to get him off the line.
“Okay, I did.”
“You went outside? (I didn't really, but I
figured he wouldn't know the difference; he was all the way in Virginia, right?
Wrong.) What door did you use?”
“The front one.” That was totally a
lie I was still in bed.
“Well go out the back door.” This
time he seemed so sincere I actually did get up to go look at that silly moon.
If it was so important to Joseph I guess I could humor him just this once.
As I walked toward the back door, I
saw a figure outside on my deck. Tall and lean with a backpack on and looking
remarkably like…oh! And then all the pieces fell together. The reason Joseph
wanted me to go outside, the suspicious nature of his days activities, and best
of all why he was so excited about Fruit Punch Day. Joseph Erickson was at my house.
I ran outside and threw my arms around him in a big hug. I
still wasn't quite sure it was really him.
He said he had a present for me, and handed me a book with
the cutest note written inside it. Best day ever!
When this song came out it reminded me of my favorite Fruit Punch Day.
And if you’re wondering how Joseph got to my house in
Georgia, well... Joseph had been planning this surprise for awhile. Apparently
he even discussed availability with my mother and she made the off-hand comment
that he wouldn't be able to surprise everyone because someone would have to
pick him up from the airport. Joseph took that as a challenge. On his first
visit to meet my family, Joseph met our dear family friends, the Sultans. They
spent some quality time together, enough that Joseph felt comfortable asking
Craig Sultan to pick him up from the airport so he could surprise everyone. Romeo
(as Craig jokingly called Joseph) was on the phone with me as he and Craig
drove from the airport to my house. During the drive Joseph was stalling on the
phone, and Craig was signing the length of time left so Joseph knew how long he
had to keep talking. They finally made it to my house by the light of the
crescent moon, and Joseph waited for me to come look at the moon out the front
door (which you and I both know I didn't do) so eventually he went to the back
door where I met him.
Hyrum was born during the midst of the 2014 Winter Olympics.
I’m pretty sure that means he’ll be an Olympic athlete.
It was heart-warming to watch the Winter Games with a
brand new baby. There’s something special about the Olympics. It’s the thrill
of the competition, the adrenaline at the start of a race, the love of country,
the heart that makes one get up after a fall, the hope that the next run will
be better, the coming together of all peoples, and the celebration of
life…which pretty much sums up newborns.
After the marathon
that is child-birth I felt like I deserved a gold medal, but what I got was
infinitely more special, my bouncing baby boy. That being said, it’s not like I
finished the race in the delivery room. Oh no, the first few weeks afterwards
are the ultimate test of endurance, and the Olympics were on through it all to
motivate us to go for gold, or at least survive the sleep deprivation
and new-mom obstacles.
Maybe he'll be a hockey player
When it was time to nurse, my mom would pull up the Olympics
and say, “Okay, what do you want to watch?” There were so many good choices, and
I was content to let Hyrum take his time nursing when I was happily watching figure skating
or the luge or the snowboarder’s half-pipe or the downhill skiing and the list goes on and on. Luckily the Olympics are on pretty much 24/7
so those who were up with the baby during the wee hours of the morning had
something to do, and were excited to be awake…maybe too excited. Early one
morning at about 2 am I woke up to go to the bathroom and found Joseph still
up. There was our baby snoozing in his arms and it looked like the baby had been
sleeping for quite some time. When I asked Joseph what he was doing still awake, he had a
very guilty look on his face, “Hyrum wanted to watch the United
States hockey game against Russia.” Mmhmm.
The Olympics are over, but the spirit of competition and the drive to achieve greatness lives on
in our home. You know that game where you throw wadded up paper at
the trash can like it’s a basketball hoop. That’s one of Joseph's favorites. Only this time instead of paper balls it’s diapers.
He usually misses and has to walk to the trash can anyway, but sometimes he gets
just near enough to make him want to try it again, “Oh! So close!”
From the living room to the kitchen trash can, think he can make it? Nah, me neither.
When you have a newborn, a
paradigm shift occurs. I have new thoughts about love, and sacrifice, and I
have new ideas about what’s romantic.
It was the middle of the night,
and Hyrum was crying. I was feeling exhausted. When I’m tired my mind begins
playing tricks on me, probably to help me get more sleep. I’ll hear the baby
crying, and then in my dream I’ll be nursing him or holding him. I am often
confused as to why he’s still crying until I wake up. It was one of those nights.
After hearing the baby cry I said, “Uh! I just fed him,” to which Joseph
replied, “No you didn't, its been hours.”
I got up and groggily fed my
baby. After Hyrum was finished eating he was still fussy and having trouble
getting to sleep, and I was at my wits end. At about 3 am I walked into our bedroom with my
crying baby and handed him to Joseph. I climbed into bed as Joseph climbed
out. I expected to be awake again in 2 hours, but I woke up the next morning at
7:30 am feeling surprisingly rested. As I opened my bedroom door, I was met by
the most beautiful sight. A pair of darling boys. Behind his glasses my husband’s
brown eyes were soft and sleepy. In his arms, was my sweet baby boy smiling to
greet the morning. Joseph whispered, “Hey, Mama.” I hugged them both. I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.
Having a male baby has given me the chance to think about
the joys of little boys. I love their confidence and their little swagger. I
love their energy and bravery. I love
their big hearts. I also love their ingenuity and sense of humor.
When we were newly married, Joseph and I had the chance to
serve as Webelos leaders. Webelos are the 10 year old cub scouts. The boys we
worked with were awesome.
One week our lesson was about nutrition. Since I had aced my
basic college nutrition class and worked as a teaching assistant for another
nutrition class, I was fairly confident in my ability to teach these scouts. I
prepared my lesson to the nines and planned to include a discussion on
essential vitamins & minerals, foods where they are found, diseases that
are associated with deficiencies, and the number of servings of each food group that are
needed for a healthy diet.
My lesson plans changed once I began teaching. We spent most
of the time categorizing foods into food groups for the Webelos’ weeklong meal
plan which was one of the requirements for their merit badge. It was suppose to
include healthy foods choices with all the food groups present and accounted
for each day, and we needed to learn the basics. Hamburger belongs in the meat
group, not the vegetable group. French fries don’t really count as a healthy
vegetable either…alright fine, we’ll count ‘em.
About halfway through my lesson I could tell
I was losing the boys. We needed to get some wiggles out and refocus our
attention. Thinking quickly, I told the boys we would take a break and play
Healthy Food Pictionary. Essentially it was an excuse to draw on the white
board, because you and I both know that’s the best, but I did request that the
drawings be of healthy foods. After a few rounds, one sweet boy decided he was
done with the ordinary and he took Healthy Food Pictionary to the next level. His drawing looked something like this.
Not sure if alien abduction is necessary for a healthy diet
Sweet Hyrum Alan Erickson was born on February 4th, 2014. He is perfect and beautiful in every way. We’re already so in love. I am truly in awe at the miracle of life.
Hyrum was due on the 30th of January which was a Thursday. I had that date starred in every single calendar we own, but my due date came and went with no baby. I was a little frustrated, and very anxious. It seemed like everyone called and asked me where my baby was, and I couldn't call anyone just to chat because they were on high alert and were simply waiting for the news. I prefaced every phone conversation with, "No, I haven't had my baby yet, but how are you doing?" Luckily moms who had experienced a late baby were very understanding. My aunt Mary and I spent a day together that week for some companionship. I needed a friend. We ran errands, went out to lunch, and talked about babies…all my favorite things. Mallory sent me this text, “How are you feeling this week? A) Patiently waiting. B) Uncomfortably waiting. C) Timing contractions. D) Anxious. I love you and I’m thinking of you all week!” I think I felt all of the above except, I was NOT timing contractions. I didn't fully feel contractions until the day Hyrum was born.
I had a doctor’s appointment on my due date. The doctor checked me and I was at 3.5 cm and 70% effaced. I'm pretty sure the doctor gave me that extra half a centimeter just to make me happy. The week before I was at 3 cm and the week before that I was at 1-2 cm. I had him strip my membranes, and afterwards he said I was at 4 cm. The baby could come any day. I was hoping and praying with all my hear that he would come every hour, done being pregnant and excited to meet my boy. I talked to my mom about the injustice of it all to which she said, “Remember that prayer is really aligning your will with God's.” After that I still prayed that Hyrum would come every hour, but I tacked on an “if it be Thy will” at the end trying to be patient and to put my trust in the Lord. My doctor scheduled me for an induction a week after my due date, and I was left with another week to try and be productive, and to prepare for little Hyrum.
By Monday, my sweet baby still did not seem like he would be making his big entrance. I set up another day date with Mary for the next day. I was trying to keep myself busy so I wouldn't go crazy, but I was also trying to tempt fate. What’s more fun than messing with people's perfectly laid plans? I’m pretty sure it worked because much to my delight, Hyrum was born the next day and Mary was one of the first people I told I was in labor as I canceled my plans.
Tuesday morning I woke up at about 5:50 am for my routine trip to the bathroom. At this point in my pregnancy it was common for me to be up in the middle of the night anywhere from 2-4 times for this expressed purpose. There's not much room with the baby getting so big, and I often couldn't sleep due to discomfort anyway. Miraculously though, the night before Hyrum was born I actually slept 7 whole hours, a tender mercy. After my bathroom trip I came back to our room, and I was climbing into bed when I felt a big gush of fluid that I could not hold back. Did my water just break? I didn't want to get too excited if it was a false alarm, but I did tell Joseph that my water might have broken. Much to his credit he bounded out of bed and was instantly being helpful. Eventually the constant leaking made me think we would probably head to the hospital. I jumped in the shower, and Joseph started packing my hospital bag, something I had neglected to do. (Next time I’ll pack my bag early. Sorry Joseph!). After I got out of the shower I felt really strong rectal pressure. The pressure went away, but it was back again in about 3 minutes. We called the hospital and they told us to come in and they would check me out.
It was a struggle to get to the car. A woman in labor is a very slow moving creature, not to mention the fact that Joseph was running around assembling all the belongings I would need for my stay. It was 7:30 am by the time we made it to the hospital. For the excitement and urgency I was feeling, the hospital staff was surprisingly and, to me, somewhat annoyingly calm. The nurse that helped us in the triage room acted like I wasn't even in labor. When the nurse asked me if I was full term, I was pleased to sassily reply that I was actually 5 days overdue. The resident doctor came in to do some tests to see if my water really did break by checking the ph balance of the fluid, seeing if it crystallized on the slide, and other exciting things. I don’t think my contractions were strong enough to make it really obvious that I was in labor, but I was. The leaking wetness was, in fact, amniotic fluid, and I was dilated 6 cm as well as 100% effaced. Ha! The doctor said, “Well, it looks like we’ll probably keep ya!” What great news!
At about 8 am we were admitted and taken our own room where they gave me an IV to begin administering the antibiotic for Group B Strep (since I tested positive). I had a fetal heart monitor strapped to my hugely pregnant stomach along with one to measure my contractions. Joseph would say that this was the worst part of labor for me. The monitors were quite irksome. In my heightened awareness and discomfort, these things strapped around my stomach were super obnoxious. They were driving me crazy, and I was contemplating ripping them off. The monitors also didn't track either the baby’s heart or my contractions very well unless I was lying down. Unfortunately, lying down is probably the worst position to be in when you’re having contractions. My favorite position was sitting on the birthing ball so that was how I labored for the majority of the time with the monitors not picking up much.
I didn't get an epidural, and I was uncomfortable, but I was trying hard to be nice, especially to my sweet husband who even packed my hospital bag for me. Joseph said that I am actually meaner on Fast Sunday when I haven’t eaten than I was in the delivery room, and I would consider that a success. I was so glad Joseph was there to help me through contractions.
At about 10 am the nurse came in and told me that they were having trouble monitoring me and my baby since I was up and about…not lying down. She said that I needed to lie down for at least 20 minutes to make sure the baby was okay. They also wanted to monitor my contractions since they seemed erratic, and if they didn't become more normal my doctor wanted to put me on pitocin. She handed me a silver instrument with a black button and told me to push the button when a contraction started. She went away and I dutifully stayed in bed and pushed the button when needed.
Awhile later she came back seeming a little surprised and asked if I had been feeling “rectal pressure”. I responded in the affirmative. I had been feeling that sensation for quite some time, and it took everything I had to relax through contractions instead of pushing. She checked me, and I was at 9 cm. It was time to start pushing! The nurse walked me through the process—breathe out, breathe in, hold breath and push, push, push, push (for 10 seconds). When I began pushing through contractions I immediately felt better. That intense pressure that I had been feeling through contractions went away. Or at least it was being put to better use. After a few pushes with the nurse, the resident doctor came in, then my doctor came in, and then the entire hospital staff came in. Not quite, but there were seriously a lot of people in the delivery room.
Everyone was suited up, and the baby was coming any minute. Joseph said he could see a little bit of hair on the baby’s head when I pushed. Surprise!! He has hair! A few pushes later my doctor said that the birth canal was pretty tight and he would like to do an episiotomy. I really didn’t want one so I politely declined. A few more pushes later and Joseph commented that it was indeed really tight. The baby was right there, but he couldn't quite make it through. My doctor then said that I would probably tear. The question would just be where. My response was, “Well, can you promise me that the baby will be out in 30 minutes?” To which the doctor promised me the baby would be out in two. On the next contraction the doctor cut while I pushed. I gasped as the baby slid out. Even though I knew I was having a baby, I was surprised to see his completeness and his perfectness. It was hard to imagine that he had come out of my body. The time was 11:29.
The rest of the festivities are a bit of a blur. The doctor continued to stitch me up, which kind of hurt, and they also massaged my uterus, which was not my favorite. I responded with a, “Are you done with me!?” Joseph says I was probably meanest to the doctor. Hyrum was put right on my chest after birth, and we attempted to breastfeed. Later he was weighed and measured, 7 lbs 14 oz and 21.5 inches long. The perfect size. The nurses helped me go to the bathroom, which stings and burns, we moved to the recovery room, and then we toasted to Hyrum’s arrival with cranberry juice.
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