I know everyone with kids has experienced this, so I’ll try to do it some justice by putting it into words.
Watching your kid(s) go from potato to living, breathing, functioning being is the most amazing, rewarding, spectacular thing.
I once heard an interview with an extremely successful man. Like – hundreds of millions, top of his field, successful. He was asked, what would be your one regret? His answer? What could someone with so much success possibly regret? He said he wished he had more kids. I think this individual had 6 kids, but he said something that stood out to me. He said something like, “I don’t think anyone gets older and says, ‘man, I had too many kids.’” You’re much more likely to get older and say to yourself, “my kids are my complete joy, they are everything, I wish we had more.”
I know that in the moment having children is so hard… so much work. But I think I agree with that statement from that successful man. I doubt when it’s all said and done I’ll say, “I really had too many kids.”
Watching Ivy develop my habits, my vocabulary, and at the same time develop independence and become her own little person – it’s unbelievable.
For anyone debating having children, I have one thing to say: It will provide the greatest joy you could ever experience. I hope I’ve made that abundantly clear withmywriting.
I love Ivy and my family with all my heart.
I didn’t plan on this. I was actually writing this as its own post, not an announcement post. But what better way to announce?
Beth and I are expecting our second child.
This brings stress, two children under the age of two. Of course it brings stress. But I know I’ll never regret it. I can’t wait to welcome our new daughter.
And Happy Mothers Day to the greatest partner. Love you.
100 posts! I thought it warranted a special post. You never know when you start something like a blog if you’ll actually stick to it. Here I am a year and a half and 100 posts later, with hundreds still to go.
I figured as part of my first 100 posts I could mention the top 5 most read:
It’s interesting what this list shows. Life and death.
It was scary starting a blog. It’s basically a public diary. I’m excited for Ivy to read it one day. Thank you to everyone who has read and supported. The primary motivation in writing and sharing these posts has always been to share my faith story and hopefully help others in some tiny way. If my story or my thoughts have helped one person think about life or come closer to Jesus Christ, then a million hours (close to how much time I’ve put into this) is worth it.
I re-read my first post to prepare for writing this. In reading that, I was kind of surprised by how open and vulnerable I made that. It inspired me to share another more personal post.
As I read that very first post I was reminded why I decided to write this. I had my own very unique journey back to God and I hoped it could help someone, whether that be back to God or to God for the first time. During those years where I removed God completely from my life, I feared every day I was away from Him that I’d never be able to return. I know there are so many people out there that feel the same way. There are also people that have never known God, prayer, repentance, all these things some of us take for granted. These are abstract concepts to many, I know.
I want to share that I believe God is for everyone. As the world screams at us, “You have your screens, your technology, your books, universities, learning, society with its conveyer belt of packaged food, water always, peace, prosperity. Watch Netflix! Relax! All is well (2 Nephi 28:21). Set aside thoughts of life, death, and purpose. You have your purpose, live and let live.” The world is telling us that despite the chaos around us, everything is fine, and we don’t need God. I testify that all is well IF we have God.
I want to tell everyone, there is more than what the world screams at us is important. There is much, much more. I want to tell everyone who will listen, God is for you. If you’ve ever known Him, if you’ve never known Him, if you consider Him a complete foreign concept, if you consider Him a myth, He is for you and He is there for you. You can come to Him, and when you do, your life changes.
That’s what sticks with me most when I think about those years away from God. I removed Him, but He was never gone. We can’t remove our Father. This makes us accountable; it can be a frightening concept if we fear Him. We don’t need to fear Him. He is only there out of love. He will never leave us.
I bear my testimony of the most important things: God is our Father, and He does love us. Jesus Christ did something unimaginable. Would you die for your child? Would you suffer the punishment for the sins of your child? Probably. Would you die for the person torturing you? Christ did. He suffered for all of us, really suffered and felt. I have been blessed to have the Holy Ghost be a part of my life when I’ve made good choices, since it was conferred upon me when I was 9 years old. Joseph Smith did see Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. He translated the Book of Mormon from ancient records. The temples that are now dotting the earth are God’s temples. The temples are clean and holy. I can be with my family forever because of what Christ did for me in Gethsemane and on the cross.
I know this to be true. This knowledge brings purpose and understanding to my life. It doesn’t make trials go away but it makes them understandable.
I wish everyone would consider the great plan of salvation, The Plan of Happiness. But we are distracted.
I have been so blessed by God and I ask Him constantly what I’ve done to be afforded so much. The least I can do is share it with others, and I am glad to do so.
I leave this testimony for my daughter, and my family, and all those I care about to read- forever. I leave it in the name of my Redeemer, my Savior, my King, Jesus Christ.
The first 48 hours, it turns out, is not just a homicide drama on television or the most important time after a homicide, it’s also an important time after the birth of a newborn.
The first 24 hours in the hospital went amazing. There’s no better word than amazing. Ivy slept the whole time. Beth would have to wake her to eat. She would eat and immediately go back to sleep. We were warned of the calm before the storm.
Nurses would come in and do this test or that. She cried once when I was holding her for like 5 seconds. She didn’t cry at all during her first bath. She looked like she was enjoying a spa day.
When another nurse pricked her foot for blood I asked if babies usually cried during that. She said, “well, I gave her sugar water.” I don’t know what that means but maybe we should be keeping sugar water on hand. What I do know is there was no crying while at the hospital after her initial couple hours coming into the world.
We brought her home around 4:30pm 12/5/20. Becky (mother-in-law) and Jane (new aunt) were at the condo. Apparently Bengie was disturbed by how we left the previous morning. He had been acting strange while we were away and licked us even crazier than usual when we got home. He didn’t seem to notice the new addition. Yet.
Becky made dinner. Jane held Ivy. Keith (father-in law) came over after his shift at the hospital. Everyone expressed joy at a newborn.
The first night was interesting. While I think she was still pretty well behaved, it’s crazy how small interruptions to sleep can be completely disorienting.
We went to sleep around midnight. Mistake number one. I’ve been told this by many people, but I think I’ll have to learn firsthand. Really – take sleep whenever it’s available. Ivy and I were watching ASU football until 11:30pm. Beth fed her and put her down to sleep around that time.
At 2:00am Ivy started crying. I’ll do my best to replay the events of the night, but Beth and I had great difficulty piecing events together in the morning.
I believe Beth tried to feed her, but she wasn’t really eating. Cluster-feeding? I don’t know.
*Beth update when reading this – she did feed her before I woke up at 2:00am, we think?
Things that happened, order unknown:
Beth made a bottle. Beth passed a blood clot. She was upset and scared and talked to her mom. Determined it was ok unless other symptoms/things happened. Beth was upset and having a hard time. I swapped spots with her and laid by Ivy’s bed, which for the first couple months (I think?) will be lying next to our bed. I fed Ivy half of the bottle Beth prepared.
Ivy was somewhat fussy and always on the verge of crying. Between 2am and 4am I realized she had a very messy diaper. Explained the fussy. I changed Ivy in the other room and laid her back down in her bed. She was much better. I’m not sure if Beth was completely sleeping during this time. I think she was kind of in and out of it. She was exhausted.
I laid with my hand on Ivy or helping to keep her pacifier in which seemed to settle her down. I think I slept around 4am. Again, not sure how things transpired, but at some point I woke up because Ivy was fussing. Looked like she was hungry. I talked to Beth around 5am (maybe?) about Ivy being hungry. I think at some point Beth turned the hot air on in the room. It had gotten cold in the room. I could have sworn I passed Ivy to Beth around 5am to feed but in the morning neither of us could recall if that actually happened. Funny, but being serious.
At some point I was really hot, and Ivy was fine. She was sleeping like a, you guessed it, baby. Really, she was sleeping well. Interesting we use that phrase to indicate deep sleep when in reality sleeping like a baby is more like up every 90 minutes wanting some attention. The living room was cooler, so I curled up on the couch and slept there. Again, at some point (8am?) I woke up to the loud carbon monoxide alarm. It beeped loud, 3 times. I saw Beth coming from the kitchen. I couldn’t fathom why she would make 3 loud beeps happen. She seemed in a haze. She ignored the loud beeping. That confused me more. I learned Bengie was sleeping on my legs. His number one fear is loud beeps. He jumped and ran to the bedroom, under the bed, tried to jump on the bed but Ivy’s bassinette was in the way. He ran back and jumped on me. He repeated this 3 times. I held and pet him and he was shaking like crazy. When I stopped petting, he ran to the bedroom, found his way onto the bed, and burrowed into the blankets.
The new addition was proving to be a major interruption to his routine, peace, and quiet.
**Beth addition number two – “you must have been in a haze too, when the beep went off, I yelled ‘oh –.’” (followed by a bad word).
I am not denying any sort of hazy phase. I was a cloud of confusion.
I guess the morning had started.
Ivy was peaceful as could be, as far as I could tell. She’s been an angel ever since. While writing this she was curled up on my legs/lap in front of me. Already learning to multi-task. Her pacifier just fell out. She likes her pacifier.
I still got to meditate that first day. That was big.
Becky came by and made some food. I decided to fast in gratitude to Heavenly Father for all this.
Beth proofread this and told me to insert “I was a Rockstar” talking about myself. That’s a bit much. Beth’s done all the hard work and is completely exhausted. I’ve gotten to sleep next to Ivy and take care of the most important person in the world. And she’s so cute. And when I sleep, I get to put my hand on her and be with her.
Good deal. I’ll take it.
Ivy may be the “Coo Monster.” She’s constantly coo-ing. It’s heart-melting. The cutest little hums and noises. I love her very much. It’s amazing how much I like caring for her. It’s crazy how exhausted I can be already and yet how happy.
Ivy went on a short walk in her stroller today.
She loves her swing.
She loves if I gently tickle her head or face with my fingers. Her eyes will instantly flutter closed.
Ivy came today. I’m writing this in a bit of a haze. I keep getting told to get used to it.
Beth started having contractions around 2AM this morning. Apparently I asked her if she was OK around 2:30AM. Don’t have a complete recollection of that.
Around 5AM her water broke. We were at the hospital around 6AM. Beth got checked in and I believe was around 3.5cm.
At 6:30AM I received a text from my father-in-law (shout out Keith Cannon), “Of course we’re praying for Beth and Ivy. But also for you. I hope you stay conscious. Good luck.”
Between 6AM and 8:30AM things moved very quickly.
At 7:57AM I texted my mom and told her Beth seemed to be in so much pain. They wanted her to finish some pitocin.
I think it was 8:30AM when they came back in and kind of freaked out. Beth was in excruciating pain and at about 9cm. 10cm (I learned) is what is needed to start delivery.
I started getting our stuff together while they quickly wheeled her to the delivery room. When I came out into the hallway they were gone. I started wandering and came upon a man in scrubs. I asked him if someone came this way and he asked who. I told him he would have known if they did. I walked down the other hall and came up to a nurse. She asked what I was looking for and I said, “the screaming.” She led me to the delivery room.
I texted my mom from the delivery room at 9:07am, “Close.”
They finally got the epidural in at that time which made things drastically better. Beth improved immediately.
From 9:07AM to 9:23AM Beth went from writhing, screaming, and crying in pain to texting my mom. “Epidural has kicked in and I’m 10cm. I’ll probably deliver in an hour or so. They were shocked how fast I was moving.”
I’ve heard over and over about this thing that happens when becoming a father. I can’t emphasize it enough. I can’t say it with adequate enthusiasm or exaggeration.
When I first saw Ivy James Quackenbush my heart expanded, my world flipped upside down. In an instant I realized I would do anything, I would give my life without a second thought and at a moment’s notice for that beautiful soul. She was perfect, so beautiful.
I wish I could put it into words, but they’re not enough. My life as I knew it was over. And I knew it. This little thing was the new center. The center of my universe- along with Beth.
Watching what Beth went through, so much pain, to bring this life into the world. I instantly had something open up inside of me. Appreciation for my mother. ‘She went through this for me?!?!’ Love and awe at the strength of my wife and all women. How can a man walk out on a wife after seeing her bring the most important thing in the world, into the world? I thought of so many mothers – Eve, Mary, my mom, my wife. My Ivy.
How can women be treated the way they are in the world when they are the entire world? They’re why we’re all here.
I loved these two in a way I didn’t know was possible.
I couldn’t stop staring at Ivy. The gravitational pull of the universe had changed.
Beth held her and she screamed. Let the record show I cut the cord. She screamed and it was simultaneously the most fascinating and most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. I didn’t know a scream could be so powerful.
I put my finger out and Ivy grabbed. She stopped screaming. The nurses started to take her for measurements and she wouldn’t let go of my finger. My heart!
I followed her. The thoughts I hadn’t let start because her coming had always been surreal started to flood my mind: I’m going to play basketball with her. I hope she loves basketball. We’ll play together. We’ll be best friends. I hope I never hurt her. I hope I can always protect her.
How does Heavenly Father love me? I’m a little closer to understanding today. I’m a little closer to understanding what true love is.
Ivy James Quackenbush and Elisabeth Brooke Quackenbush. My family.
No Coincidences 