Jonathan Crandell Family: November 2012

I'm so thankful to be a Mom. It is my greatest joy. My first four pregnancies flew by with very little complications. I didn't even know what heartburn was until the last month of my fourth pregnancy. Pregnancy was enjoyable. Not comfortable but definitely enjoyable. When I was 8 months pregnant with Braelynn I had an experience in which I knew there was one more little child waiting to call me mom. I smiled at the thought of 5 children. Then Braelynn was born. Let's just say it was not an easy adjustment. Braelynn was a great baby. Momma was the one who struggled. I started to doubt my ability to mother 5 children. I tried to rationalize my need to be done with four. But I couldn't deny the experience that I had. The surety that I had felt. So I decided I needed to prepare. I set new goals for myself and made an effort to be the mom I wanted to be. A few months later I notified Jonathan that five was going to happen and he had 6 months to get himself ready. He laughed and knew he had no other choice but to agree. I was giddy with excitement when that test came back positive the very first month. And then I was instantly plagued with nausea and fatigue and heartburn that I have never experienced before. In my first trimester I even had the joy of suffering through the flu. Aside from feeling old and worn out it was a fairly uneventful pregnancy. Then I broke my leg. Bed rest. Narcotics. The dreaded Turbutaline. Lovenox shots twice a day. Life was challenging. The dangers of blood clots while pregnant and having surgery were high. So twice a day my husband or mother-in-law had to give me a shot in my arm or hip. The shots left my arms and hips bruised and terribly sore. The turbutaline stopped my labor but left me shaking uncontrollably. The narcotics helped control the pain but left me nauseous. I had to keep my foot elevated and try to prevent labor so I was put on bed rest but had to be forever careful about how I positioned my leg. But lying flat on your back while pregnant can cause more problems so I had to keep myself tilted slightly on my left. It was quite the scenario. I was exhausted from laying in bed all day. After the first week I was taken off the turbutaline which helped immensely. Then a week later I finished the Lovenox shots. I felt so much better and yet was still confined in bed with my foot up and giant belly in my way. During an OB appointment my Dr. did an ultrasound and determined I was carrying twice as much fluid as was normal during this stage of pregnancy. Under the circumstances he was worried about my upcoming labor and delivery. 5th child so labor could be relatively quick and I'm an hour from the hospital. Broken leg. Too much fluid could lead to a prolapsed cord. My OB offered me a way out. We could induce at 39 weeks. I swore after my labor with Trayton that I would never induce again. But the idea of having it be a more controlled experience relieved my anxiety. We set the date.

The night before. (Love the purple leg).

We arrived at the hospital around 11 am. and around noon they had me set up and started pitocin. My OB came in awhile later to check on my progress. I wasn't making progress but as he checked me my water broke. An hour or so later I got the epidural. Jonathan and I watched HGTV while we waited for something else to happen. Progress was slow. But before I knew it I was feeling a lot of pain. Baby was ready to make her appearance. Delivering with a broken leg was awkward. They placed my foot up on a rest and then we just left it there.

One more push.

Emersynn Day Crandell

So relieved it was over.

Long black hair.

8 lbs. 22 1/4 in. long

Headed home.

Count your many blessings. Name them one by one.

Trayton. Kade. Jordynn. Braelynn. Emersynn.

Trials have a way of humbling us. They make us realize what's really important in life. Over the past two months trials have been abundant and the blessings have overflowed my home.

Here's my story:

Early in September I started feeling icky. After 3 days in bed I finally saw a Dr. and realized I had strep throat. The physical stress of being sick started to intensify my already constant Braxton Hicks. I was exhausted. Then in late September I received a phone call from Meg. Dad's sick. Pneumonia. He's headed to the hospital for some oxygen just to be cautious. Downward spiral. From there Dad's infection spread to his entire body, shutting down his kidneys, and requiring him to be sedated and fighting for his life for nearly 10 days. 25% chance of survival. My siblings rallied around my mother and I, almost 8 months pregnant, was stuck in Idaho. I struggled with flying home to say Goodbye and holding onto the faith that he would make it through. As the emotional stress brought on another intense round of Braxton Hick contractions I decided to stay put. Or rather my husbands concern for my well being convinced me to stay put. The physical and emotional fatigue was overwhelming. But the blessings that were poured out upon my family was all consuming. One night in particular I felt trapped in Idaho and feared I would never be able to tell my father I loved him. Within a short time I had three people contact me and offer me a means to get home to Arizona... if I needed too. Peace. Blessings. Miracles. Slowly Dad started to recover. With a ventilator between his teeth he cussed at a doctor. And in frustration he managed to give the bird. I knew he was fighting. I knew he'd be okay. Mom called. He's awake. Tears of relief poured down my face. He couldn't speak yet but he could hear me. I love you Daddy. Days before Mom and Dad celebrated their anniversary Dad was released from the hospital. He was still on Dialysis for his kidneys but the fact that he was up and walking was a modern day miracle. So many prayers. An entire stake fasting. I knew without a doubt that God lives and answers our prayers. Dad's kidneys still weren't working but he was alive. Life was good.

It is now October. My family still needed firewood to get through the winter. That Saturday we left early and headed to our favorite spot in the forest. Jonathan spent the morning cutting down a tree or two and the kids and I gathered it up and loaded the trailer. Jonathan pulled out a camp chair. Sit Mandi. Let me and the boys work. I didn't listen. I should have listened. Jonathan was across a small perennial stream (2 feet wide with maybe 2-4 inches of water) and up the hill splitting some more wood. I decided to cross and see if there was any more work for the boys and I to do. I had crossed this stream too many times to count. Three logs were placed in the bed so we just walked across it. The first log was wobbly. I knew it. I was careful. I stepped to the second log and heard my leg snap as I fell. It was undeniably broken. I screamed for Jonathan. I was desparate for him to hear me. I was so grateful to see my hero race down the hill to my side. My poor husband was faced with 4 terrified kids and a broken wife, just shy of 36 weeks pregnant, sitting on a log in the stream bed. I'm so thankful for the man I married. He jumped into action. Got the kids in the truck. Splinted my leg. Gave me a Priesthood blessing and then proceeded to carefully, inch by inch, get me in the truck. Lifting a pregnant woman is difficult. Lifting a pregnant woman with a broken leg and traveling over rough terrain is close to impossible. I held my splinted leg. He held me. Eventually we made it to the truck. About an hour later we made it to Mountain Home and met some friends (the best friends imaginable) who took responsibility for four filthy and frightened children. We then got on the freeway and headed to Boise. At this point I was in labor with contractions coming every 2-3 minutes. We knew if she were to be born she could need medical help only offered in Boise. So we kept driving. LONGEST drive ever. I'll never forget the look on the faces of those who greeted me in the emergency room. Apparently having a severely broken leg and being in labor causes everyone to worry. I tried to convince them to give me drugs before moving me out of the truck. They refused. Transitioning from the truck to a wheelchair and then again from the wheelchair to a bed was terrible. All I have to say is morphine never felt so sweet.

To summarize my five day experience in the hospital...I have the Best OB and Ortho Surgeon ever. They worked together and found a way to fix my leg and keep the baby inside me a little longer. They stopped labor again and again until they were able to stabilize me enough for surgery. I had surgery on Monday, October 15th. The hardest thing to deal with that day was not being able to kiss my sweet son on his Birthday. When I spoke to Kade he said, "Mom, I just want you to get better." The first night after surgery was hell. The pain was unbearable. Morphine didn't touch it. After hours and hours of tears and agony they prescribed some stronger drugs and eventually I found peace. I spiral fractured both my tibia and fibula and broke my ankle. Now I have a rod inserted through my tibia and multiple screws in my ankle and leg. I was released from the hospital with lots of pain medication and multiple medicines to continue to hold off labor. The side effects of the drugs were almost unbearable. I was on total bed rest for the first week and then moved to modified bed rest for the remainder of my pregnancy. I realized in just a few days that the side effects and pains were nothing compared to the pain I felt sitting on the sidelines. I cried when Braelynn handed me my walker and said get up I help you. I wanted to get up. All she wanted was some milk in her cup. I couldn't get up and I cried some more.

Count your blessings.

This was the song we sang the first time I made it back to Sacrament meeting. I have been so blessed.

I'm so thankful for a family who loves to pray. I'm thankful for the Plan of Salvation that teaches us that there is life after death. And even more importantly, there is family after death. Family is Eternal. I'm thankful for the sea of doctors and nurses that I will never meet who cared for my father. I'm thankful for the doctors and nurses who are now little more than a fuzzy morphine clouded memory. Modern medicine is a gift. I'm thankful for my husband who has been my strength and comfort. I'm thankful for Priesthood blessings. I only remember one thing from the blessing on the mountain. The baby will be fine. That's all this momma needed to hear. And I'm so thankful that I had that knowledge to cling to. I'm thankful for a husband who has been a shoulder to cry on and steady hands to cling too. I'm thankful for friends who took my children at a moments notice and comforted them while I was gone. I'm thankful for a friend who threw Kade a birthday party and took the time to celebrate him on his special day. I'm especially thankful for a mother-in-law who gave up her life for weeks on end to help my family. I'm thankful that my children have her to turn to. I'm thankful for all those who have delivered meals and filled my freezer with meals. Each time I count my blessings my list of gratitude grows longer and I'm sure it will only continue to grow.