On the couch...

No matter how many moms I talk to, I still feel like I'm absolutely alone in the world. I'm going crazy. Anyone mind if I use this blog as therapy? I know Adam probably will. Elizabeth is only 3 weeks old. This is the end of just the first week by ourselves. And I don't know if I can take it. I know my hormones are whack right now. But I haven't felt this anxious and depressed since after my mission. And that led to a lot of self-destructive behavior followed by therapy and medication. It's mostly at night. When Adam's not home. And sometimes when he is. He told me today it's getting hard for him to come home b/c when he does I'm such a wreck. I'm angry, irritable, and unpleasant to be around. I'm getting enough sleep--at least I think I am. Elizabeth is good about sleeping for long chunks (4-5 hours) in the night. I try to get out everyday--even for just a walk. I call my friends. I watch funny shows on TV to make myself laugh. But at the end of the day, everything gets so dark and I feel like I've lost everything and I'll never be free again and I don't know how I'll make it through another day. I just get so lonely. But it's not like my days are hard. I feed her. I help her settle down for naps. I rock and console her when she's fussy. I change diapers. I do at least one productive thing--like dishes or laundry. I even get to shower everyday. So why do I feel like I'm losing my mind and that I'll never be happy again? I'm supposed to be thrilled; so in love with this baby, right? Then why do I sometimes feel like running far far away? Like I want to disappear. Like a zombie? She's a beautiful baby. Adam is a wonderful husband. We're so blessed. So why am I weeping in despair?

This we believe

For us personally this issue boiled down to whether we know President Monson is a true prophet of God or not. It's a struggle though, because I know that many are hurt and wounded by these results. Those we know who are hurt by this outcome, please know our love and friendship for you has not changed. But nor has our clinging to the plan of happiness.

The Little Engine That Could

© Callie Shell/Aurora for Time

Caption: Two staffers had just passed this site and done two pull-ups. Not to be outdone, Obama did three with ease, dropped and walked out to make a speech. Missoula, Mont., 4/5/2008

And Life Goes On

Well it's Day 2 of Real Life. Adam is back at work, all our visitors have come and gone, and Baby Elizabeth and I are adjusting to each other and life at home. And I have a sneaking suspicion we have it pretty easy. All last week, I rode an emotional rollercoaster that would go up when Elizabeth had a good feeding, and WAY WAY down when she would fuss and only eat 5 minutes at a time. I was convinced she was going to die. So yesterday, in my new mom madness, I went with my best Brooklyn bud to the post office to weigh Elizabeth on the self-serve scale. (Once in car seat, once just car seat, then subtract. Thank you, Sister Nay.) At her appointment last Wednesday, she'd gained a whopping 11 oz. But her next appointment wasn't for two months and here I was, wondering if she was going to wither away b/c she didn't seem to be eating enough. But, of course, the scale proved otherwise (as the wet and poopy diapers should have, too): she's gained another 7 ounces. Oh, the relief! I burst into tears. But the rest of the day was really calm and things are starting to feel a little more normal. And, not to jinx ourselves, but she so far has been sleeping really, I mean really well at night. I'll feed her between 9 and 11 PM, she'll go down fine. Wake up anywhere from 2 to 4 AM, feeds again, then is down until it's time for Adam to get up for work. Normal? Healthy? I'll be asking the pediatrician today when I call with my huge list of questions. But for now, we're not complaining.

Here are some pics from Grandma Davis' visit. Thanks, Mom, for everything!

At Green-Wood Cemetery. What a place to take a newborn, huh?

In Sunset Park

Adam's parents also came to visit, but unfortunately we don't have any pictures of them just yet. Adam blessed Elizabeth at church and this is us after we got home. Do I look as exhausted as I felt?

He did a wonderful job and I cried the whole way through. Adam's family also brought the crib his dad made us, which is absolutely beautiful. When everything's set up in the nursery, we'll post more pictures. Until then, enjoy this picture of Elizabeth, where she's making my favorite face: "Oh boy! Time to eat!"

My War Story, Reader Discretion Advised

From thisTo this
To this
So here's the labor story, with all the gory details. For a reader's digest version, email Adam.

So there I was, almost two weeks overdue, and the midwives were threatening to induce on Monday, the 20th. I was desperate so I asked Adam to pick up castor oil and some ice cream, courtesy of JFK Fried Chicken (see pic above). (NYC culture moment: Need ice cream by the pint? Try the fried chicken place.) I mixed 1/4 cup castor oil (which is like vegetable oil) with the ice cream and some milk, hoping to make a sort of shake. It was dee-gusting, to say the least. So I ate that at around 10 PM. At about midnight, it starts to...work and I'm in and out of the bathroom with Montezuma's Revenge for the next couple of hours. I even considered lying down on the floor next to the toilet to save myself the trip.

At some point around 3, the pain switched from intestinal to something else I couldn't identify. I'd been having "practice" contractions for over a month, so I had kind of an idea what real contractions would feel like, but these were sharp, shooting pains in my hips and along my pelvic bone. I'd read somewhere that labor pains were never "sharp" so that, plus the spotting that had started, convinced me to call the midwife. The answering service had her paged and she called back right away. I must have sounded like death. She told me the pain was most likely early labor as the baby was dropping down into my pelvis. She told me to hang in there, and come into the hospital when the contractions started coming 3 minutes apart. The idea behind that was that Adam and I wanted to do most of the laboring at home, for many reasons, but mostly for comfort and to increase our chances of having a natural birth with the least amount of intervention as possible. So Adam got me to lie down in our Bradley Method position and he tried to coach me through the contractions. But they were so intensely painful, I couldn't relax. I tried standing, leaning against a wall, leaning on him, rocking back and forth on my hands and knees, and finally leaning onto the back of a chair, rocking my hips forward and back. All the time, I kept telling myself, once we get to that *&^% hospital, I'm getting that &^%$# epidural! Oh, and I threw up several times, I think from the pain.

After a few hours of this, the pain changed and the contractions became a lot more "normal." Adam built me a chair/throne (see pic above) that felt very comfortable and I laid/sat down with blanket over me and he sat on the couch and started timing the contractions as he'd coach me through them. This time, the coaching worked and, with his help, I was able to labor for 3 or 4 hours like that. The pain would come like a wave. Adam would help me focus on relaxing each muscle, and just when it threatened to overpower me, the pain would peak and drop off, leaving me more relaxed than ever and I would often doze between contractions. They were coming 7 minutes apart, steadily, so we figured we'd be at this all day. Adam called to let people know he'd be missing church and his meetings, and I just focused on relaxing through each wave of pain.

About 10 or so, things were going really well (Adam was an AMAZING coach). All of a sudden, I was hit with a tsunami. I couldn't relax for the life of me and I started to cry and yell and writhe. Then another one came, then another. It was incredible. I shouted out, "Dear God, help me!" I'm not one to take the Lord's name in vain. I really thought I was going to die. Then, I felt this overwhelming need to go to the bathroom...Number 2. So I run to the toilet, there's blood everywhere, and I realize that I'm not pushing to push poo out. That's when we really freaked out. I yelled at Adam to call the midwife. He dialed the number but the call didn't go through. Are you kidding?! We tried again on my phone. No go. We tried ten times without success. (We later found out that a tower was down or something.) What should we do? Do we get in the car and drive ourselves? I didn't think I could make it to the car. But if we call an ambulance, it's all a matter of chance which hospital's ambulance shows up and then we wouldn't end up at our hospital with our midwife. What do we do?! Adam dialed 911 and described what was happening. I was in even MORE intense pain and was braying and yelling at the top of my lungs. The man on the other end told Adam to tell me, "DON'T PUSH!" I cannot describe the agony of fighting that urge to push. "Why can't I push?!" I yelled at him back. "Because you don't want to have the baby at home!" Are you kidding me? We're that close? I was completely overpowered by the urge to push and my arms and hands would seize up with each spasm of pain.

The EMT guys came quickly and, thanks be to the Lord (he was with us every step of the way), it was an ambulance for our hospital, Maimonides (which is really a miracle since Lutheran's ambulance is almost always idling outside the gas station at the end of our street and I've never seen a Maimonides ambulance in our neighborhood,) The guys check me to see if I'm crowning, tell Adam to put some pants on me (which the nurses at the hospital were not happy about), and start loading me into this carrier thing. Adam grabs the hospital bag we have yet to finish packing, throws a hoodie over his garments and basketball shorts, grabs my purse and we're out the door, in the ambulance and driving over what I believe is the most pot hole-ridden road in all of Brooklyn. I'm of course yelling all the way, though I really wouldn't call it yelling. I honestly felt like an animal--like a donkey or a cow or an elephant...but I was extremely loud as they wheeled me into the ER, and I knew I was being loud and everyone was staring, but I couldn't have cared less. My water breaks and they wheel me into Labor and Delivery where my midwife is sitting at a desk. She looks at me in shock and asks what on earth we're doing coming in an ambulance. All the labor rooms are full so they put me in an OR and lie me flat on my back on a table. I cry to Adam to lift me up. A nurse grabs one leg, Adam grabs the other, and I can FINALLY push! That pain is a whole other ball game. The angel nurse at my left tells me to curl up around the baby and push down like I'm having a bowel movement. I start to yell and grunt but the midwife says, don't vocalize, or something like that. I guess it wastes energy. "PUSH! PUSH! PUSH!" everyone is yelling at me and I'm pushing with all my might. I can't describe how it felt. I've pushed for only 15 minutes but it felt like an eternity when the midwife says she's going to have to cut me b/c the baby has passed her meconium (sp?). So she cuts me (no anesthesia--ouch!) and a few pushes later, out comes her head and OH MY GOODNESS! I feel SO MUCH BETTER. And Hallelujah, it's OVER! Little baby comes out crying and i reach for her but they take her to the side to check her out and clean her up. Adam is beside himself as they bring her back and put her on my chest. That's when I cried the sweetest tears I've ever shed. Adam helped me lift up my shirt so I could put her against my skin and she latched on just as easy as can be. It was beautiful. And it was worth it. All of it. God gave us a miraculous birth that day. And I thank Him for all the wonderful people who attended to me and Elizabeth. Adam was the true hero, though. I had no idea how well he'd do. It was so wonderful to hold her and see the joy radiating from his face as he looked at his little girl.

Then, of course, they took her away as they checked me out and stitched me up (ouch again.) But they brought her back and I didn't care if they poked me and stuck me till the day was over as long as I had her and Adam by my side.

Getting to know her

All the nurses said she was so alert (and beautiful).

Meet Elizabeth

Since Baby Johnson hasn't decided to grace us with her presence yet, I thought I'd try to revive our blog with some heated political debate!

Here's my latest thoughts on the election:

If I had to sum up my feelings in one word, it would be "conflicted." You see, I used to be a big John McCain fan. I remember hearing him on NPR back in '06 talking about how we needed a troop surge and thinking, "Wow, this guy really sounds like he knows what he's talking about." Then, as the primary circus started, I grew to like him more and actually voted for him and NOT Mitt (please don't take away my recommend). My reason was simple: I felt he had more (yes more) integrity. Take his stance on two policies: torture and immigration. He was a POW, so he had the courage to oppose torture and wanted to close Guantanamo—good for him! He lives in Arizona and has first-hand knowledge of the realities of the plight of Hispanic immigrants, so he did the unpopular thing and backed immigration reform without giving in to right-wing xenophobia like Brother Romney. That won big points with me.

But now I'm starting to have serious second thoughts and they've come in the form of our favorite Tina Fey look-alike. I know McCain wants to win, and maybe some ends justify the means, but this one doesn't for me. I don't object to her b/c she is a working mom (I hope I'm not that self-righteous) or because she doesn't interview well and is a TOTAL EMBARRASSMENT to the campaign. Hey, remember Dan Quayle? What I object to is that McCain only chose her to win votes. Maybe the VP doesn't do all that much. But couldn't he have had a shred more of integrity and chosen someone a bit more . . . more . . . ? Help me out here, folks.

So this leaves me with the question of who to vote for, now that my hero has fallen from grace. The more I watch the debates, the more I'm leaning towards . . . Obama. But am I really? Or am I just being seduced by the "cool" vote? Now that the economy has put all other issues on the back burner, including my pets—immigration and torture—I am at a loss. They both promise to cut taxes and help Main Street (which, if I hear another sound byte about Wall St. vs. Main Street, I'm going to throw my radio out the window). But would a liberal really reign in government spending and CUT taxes? But can I trust McCain to do any of the things he says he'll do? Help!

So feel free to post all your liberal/moderate/conservative/libertarian/communist/greenparty ideas so I'll have something to do besides sit around and wait for this baby. Maybe an especially inflammatory comment will send me into labor . . .

Still Waiting

So maybe the creepy vulture/stork accidentally took our baby to a war-torn country in Europe.

Not that easy

I wish it were this easy.

Dad's Trip to NYC (Part 1)

It's been a long time coming mostly b/c it took me forever to sort through the huge amounts of pictures Adam took of the Statue of Liberty, but here at last is a post about my dad's recent visit.

A few days before my last day of work, Dad Davis came to stay for a little less than a week. We greeted him the first night with Brooklyn pizza (I can't call it pie), courtesy of our favorite joint around the corner, All Star Pizza. Pepperoni and ricotta. Mmmm . . . The next day, Adam and I had to work, so Dad, with a subway map and a fearless spirit, toured Manhattan all on his own. That night, we took him to the "best view in Brooklyn", AKA Sunset Park and watched the paisanos jugando el fut. (um, ask a Mexican.)


The following day, Friday, was my last day so I cut out of work as early as I could and joined Adam and Dad in Battery Park for a trip to Liberty and Ellis Island. We went on a free tour led by a park ranger that told us all sorts of interesting things I never knew about the monument, like her full name: Liberté, Eclairant le Monde. Liberty Enlightening the World.


I also never noticed she was striding forward—she's in motion—leaving the shackles (that you can't see from below) that chain her down.


After Liberty Island, we took the ferry to Ellis Island where we watched a documentary (I slept) and shuffled our tired feet through the many exhibits. Dad found a photo of rag pickers, Adam liked the old typography, and I found this political cartoon that pretty much sums up my feelings on immigration. The caption reads, “They would close to the new-comer the bridge that carried them and their fathers over.”


The next day, Saturday, was the day before Adam's and my second anniversary. To hold to tradition, we all went to the temple to do sealings. It was really great to be with my dad and my husband in the temple.


We spent the rest of the afternoon sight-seeing, including Rockefeller Center, St. Patrick's Cathedral, FAO Schwartz, Fifth Avenue, and, of course, the world-famous office of Designer Adam Johnson at HarperCollins. We also initiated Dad to NYC street meat and ate our savory gyros in a little park near Adam's work.


Later, we tried for Wicked tickets, played Spot the Mormon in the crowd awaiting the lottery, and subsequently did NOT win tickets. But luckily, we were tipped off by a street promoter to another lottery that was easier to win, for the new musical "In the Heights." She told us it was like "West Side Story" meets "Fiddler on the Roof." Sounded good so we went to enter the drawing. The first name they called? "Bob Davis!" That's two tickets. . . . Then, second to last, "Emily Johnson!" We were ecstatic. Here's dad, first in the winner line.


The show was absolutely amazing. It was written by and starred a man who grew up in Washington Heights (well on the border with Inwood, actually) and has a ton of fun things that only new yorkers would appreciate. The music and dance were a blend of rap, hip hop, reggeaton, and of course salsa/merengue. The dancing was also great and the whole thing was so full of energy and joy and life that I wanted to jump up and dance and sing with them. We LOVED it. And highly recommend it.


Check out the oh-so-authentic set. Right down to the ATM sign on the bodega's awning.


I forgot to say that, before the show, Dad treated Adam and me to dinner at a French restaurant where I had pate and monkfish for the first time and Adam ate frog legs for the first time. Everything cost ridiculous amounts of money. It was a great anniversary gift.

So that's it for the first installment. Stay tuned for more...

Restoring My Faith in Humanity

Go us.

For more geeked out pictures, click here.

Labor Day Weekend

We had quite the productive Labor Day Weekend. We hit IKEA friday afternoon and brought home the Expedit Bookcase (6'x6'), the Jokkmokk Table and chair set, and a lamp. Took a little while to set them up, but our home is finally taking shape.

Our church BBQ was a blast as well, and I finally got to get a little of my soccer fever out.

Then on Monday we went down to Coney Island, along with most of Brooklyn, to swim at the beach, take in a little sun, and catch a delicious bite of real-deal tacos and Enchiladas from a small Mexican hole-in-the-wall place. A very pleasant time. And it was funny too, because Emily got to finally lie on her stomach, because I dug a hole under her beach towel large enough to accommodate the baby belly.

Kudos for My Sweet Pea

Since he's too modest to tell you all, I thought I'd share some good news and brag a little about my husband. Last week Adam received a modest but unexpected bonus from his boss. He kept trying to tell me his boss gave it to him because she's so nice (and she is a very nice person). But businesses aren't in the habit of giving away money just to be nice. You get bonuses because you make your bosses money. So good job, Adam, for being such a valued asset at work.

The second accolade came when Adam received an email saying that a student project he and 9 other people had worked on had been chosen as a finalist in a competition sponsered by Adobe (the makers of all the indispensible design software). For being a finalist, he and the other team members will split a cash prize and, best of all, they each get a free copy of Adobe's Creative Suite 3. To put that in perspective, when Adam first bought his laptop as a new design student, the cost of the Adobe software alone was half of what the laptop itself cost. And that was with the student discount. We've been thinking about upgrading to jumpstart Adam's freelance work, and this just fell into our laps. The student project that won, by the way, was used as the opening credits for Typophile, a film festival for type enthusiasts. Watch it by clicking here. In my humble opinion, it's awesome. So three cheers for Adam!

Without sounding cheesy, I have to say the real person who I want to praise here would be our Father who gave Adam these talents in the first place and has blessed us with miracles every step of the way.

Sunset Lake and us