so, how do you know courtney trackwell, soon-to-be chenoweth? well... how much time do you have?

So, we had a baby last week. For reals. Like, you know, a real baby. Last week. 

I wish I could tell you I was brave headed into labor, but anything that seemed brave about me was simply naivety. I waltzed into that hospital, 3 am and excitedly nervous, with Drew holding my hand as I waddled in at 41 weeks pregnant for an induction because this baby just wasn't coming on his own.


Our doctor delivers at Women's Hospital (where I was born and probably many of you reading this). And I'll tell you what I was nervous about - our good family friend, Courtney Trackwell, is a labor and delivery nurse at Women's. I was nervous that if she was our nurse, I'd make a fool of myself in front of her - I could just see it,  me yelling in pain, screaming for drugs, yelling at Courtney, etc - if she ended up being our nurse. I was also pretty nervous about the privacy aspect. Did I really want someone that I see for birthday dinners and family vacations to have seen THAT? No, no, I sure did not. 

So there we were, June 10, scheduled for induction, and the hospital didn't have room for us until 3 am, so it was technically June 11. I was 41 weeks and one day.  I texted Trackwell at some point after they got us set up in our room and it was normal daytime hours. I was so appreciative that she had been telling me for months she wanted to be there when Thomas was born.  But, I did not want to ask her to come scrub in when it wasn't her assigned day to work. And again, I was nervous...was she really going to see everything!?! The gloves and the gel and the stirrups .... Oh, no. I couldn't think about it. 

The day progressed, and then contractions started, and then they grew more intense, and things were getting real. Once I got the epidural, I floated back and forth between being at peace, reminding myself God designed us for this, and wigging out, thinking this was going to be so crazy and/or possibly take for. ev. er.  

Our daytime nurse was wonderful, just truly wonderful in all ways you want a nurse to be. And then 7 pm approached and it was time for her to go. Things were taking their own sweet time. We had texted Trackwell, who said she wanted to come in when I was around 8 cm - meaning, close to "go time."

Our daytime nurse said "I'm going to pick out a great nurse from the night shift for y'all." Drew looked over at her from the chair next to my bed. 

"Well, our friend Courtney actually already assigned us to one of her friends." Trackwell was taking good care of us and she wasn't even at the hospital yet! 

I was glad too that Courtney was going to get to be a part of things, but wasn't having to pick up an entire extra 7 am - 7 pm shift just because of us. It looked like this was working out great. 

Angela, our nurse for the night shift that Courtney selected for us, lived up to her name. She was an angel! She was awesome. She let us break the rules about the number of visitors we could have, held a bucket for me to puke into on more than one occasion, and she was just genuinely a great labor and delivery nurse. And you could tell she loves Courtney T. It was fun to share a personal connection from the get-go, that we both knew Coco. 

Angela kept asking how we knew everyone, our team of amazing visitors that were at the hospital for this big occasion. And, she asked us how we knew Courtney. As she checked my vitals, she was very excited to tell us she'd be at John and Courtney's wedding - coming up the very next weekend. We will be there, too! we said. I'm actually in the wedding, I told her. "Oh, y'all are really close then!" I immediately thought, oh you have no idea. But more on that later... 

Having Courtney Trackwell at the birth of our first child was INCREDIBLE. I will forever be thankful that she was willing to work overtime to be there for us, that she was actually excited about it. I will forever be grateful for her positive cheering throughout the hour and a half of "pushing." I will forever remember as they turned off my epidural, as my eyes searched the room for things to focus on, looking at Trackwell giving me the thumbs up, as Angela told me when to breathe, when to hold my breath, when to push with all I had....  I can still hear Courtney saying "You're doing SO GOOD Coco! GO GO GO GO GO COCO!!" With a huge smile on her face. At least someone was smiling! 

It was very neat, to have known Courtney for oh, eight years, to see her get through nursing school and then graduating - to witness her in her role as a labor and delivery nurse, and get to see how good she is at her job. It seems like more than a job to Courtney, too - she seems to truly enjoy bringing babies into the world, the yelling and the gloves and the gel and the dilating- she handles it all like a champ. 

I mentioned earlier that when it was just Angela and Drew and I in the room at the beginning of Angela's shift, she asked how we knew Courtney Trackwell.

Well, where shall I start?

Should I give the "we're family friends" answer? Because there is so much more to it than that. 

Should I just say "I've known Courtney's fiance John since he was born, we go way back?"

Should I say that John's grandparents and my grandparents were the best of friends and took family vacations together? That Pat and Tommy, Dan and Elaine are the reason our families are so closely enter-twined? That since they became friends nearly fifty years ago there have been two more generations of great friends since, and that my dad really considered all three of the Chen boys, Scott and Jay and Lee, brothers? 

Should I say that Courtney's mother-in-law read scripture alongside my mom at mine and Drew's wedding? That John's uncle Lee is the first babysitter I can remember? 

That's probably information overload, right? So I should just keep it short and sweet and say "her father-in-law and my dad grew up together." Or should I just say "Courtney was in my house party and I'm in hers?" Or, should I say that our families spent dozens of spring breaks and New Years Eve's together, and then their dad died from effing cancer and we huddled together in our grief after? Should I mention that then my dad died suddenly in a plane crash and the Chenoweths are a big reason we survived the whole ordeal?

I guess you could easily get lost in the details of how Courtney Trackwell and I know each other... One of my first and most favorite memories of Courtney Trackwell (Treadmill as my dad liked to call her) was during the first ski trip she came on with our families. We were playing a big, loud, competitive game, and it was evident that Courtney does NOT like losing. Nor will she go down quietly. 

Finally, at the end, she and her team won, and right in my dad's face she jumped and started yelling "YES! I'm a CHAMPION! YES! That's what my dad tells every morning when I wake up. YOU! ARE! A! CHAMPION!!!!!" 

 My dad had a huge grin watching her outburst, a fiercely competitive soul himself. 


I know now that it was silly for me to be nervous about Courtney being in the room as we had Thomas. Who wouldn't want someone like her cheering for them, someone who isn't afraid to be loud, someone who is fiercely loyal, and won't give up? Sure, I'd rather not think about the things that Courtney has now seen. I'd like to shut my eyes and think those things can be unseen. 

But I will always think about her when we tell Thomas about the day he was born, how special it was to have our lifelong friend Courtney Trackwell (a few days from being Courtney Chenoweth) there to tell me to breathe, to encourage me and Drew, and to witness the miraculous occasion of a child being born.

And I suppose, now when people ask me how I know Courtney Trackwell, things are even a bit more complicated to explain. 

The fourth generation of Rochaskaweths have arrived, with the birth of Clare Robinson and Thomas Prochaska, and oh how we wish our dads were here to see it, and see how a Chen was the nurse for a Prochaska delivery...But I feel confident that Tom and Jay are smiling something huge in heaven.

Long live the Robchaskaweths! 

and thank you, as always, for reading. 

pick your roommates carefully

Public Service Announcement: pick your roommates carefully, my friends. 

In the spirit of the high school graduation that is upon us, I thought it appropriate to discuss the importance of picking your college roommate wisely. You think it's simply a shared room for a year, but you just never know... it could be someone you'll know the rest of your life. Could be someone you have some of the very best times of your life with, and also someone you wade through some of the worst times. You just never know. 

Would you believe that my dad's freshman roommate in college still checks in on me and Gentry and my mom? Shares old pictures, funny stories, memories of Dad. 

And one of my college roommates, for instance, reads every blog post I throw out and always makes time to encourage me to keep writing. Texts, emails, Amy is always letting me know she reads my rambles. 

My dad's roommate of several years at UT-Austin, Steve, had something of a "reputation" in our house growing up. I wonder when Gentry and I tell our children about Pops (my dad) how many times we will mention shenanigans with S.J. 
Dad loved telling us their stories - his eyes would light up and he loved to brag about the trouble they either caused or nearly "escaped."

In fact, when Drew's mom came over to have dinner with my parents for the  very first time, S.J. was there. He and my dad had their annual golf tournament that they hosted each year with their good friend Scott. S.J. was coming over after dinner, my dad assured me. Much later, he said. 

It was a Thursday night, I remember it vividly. There we were, what was a fairly serious/important occasion, with this guy I loved (and hoped to marry!) bringing his mom over to meet my mom and dad. And then... S.J. shows up. And what does he do? He suggests everyone partake in a rum tasting. On a Thursday night. I was half mortified and half thankful for this wild, fun friend of my dad's, someone I had known all my life, who was there to "break the ice" - and pour the shots of rum - as these future in-laws met for the first time. Drew's mom joined in the rum tasting right away, seemingly unfazed by Dad and S.J., the two of them cracking jokes and throwing back some rum. I wanted to explain to Bette that this was not a typical Thursday family dinner, but... you can't really explain S.J. You just embrace the fact that he's fun and his fun is contagious and you roll with it. 

A few weeks ago, S.J. emailed me a picture of a chandelier he saw at a restaurant that made him think of me and my mom's business. S.J. is always forwarding our company's e-newsletter and is actually how our fabulous summer intern heard about Renovate. Steve forwarded our blog to a group of people he works with, and then one of those women emailed her daughter that we were hiring, and viola, she ended up being the best fit for our intern position! 

It should be noted that S.J. is a great hubby - I grew up knowing that his wife Jenny is a total saint - and they are very cute together. Jenny and S.J. came by our studio together this spring and in the middle of our conversation Jenny said "Babe you look really handsome today." As if she was just noticing him for the first time, not that he was the guy she's been waking up next to for decades. S.J. always greets me with a "hey beautiful!" and makes everyone feel welcome. When you're off at college, ladies, keep your eyes open for the wild guys, too. S.J. is proof that they can also turn out to be the really sweet ones. 

Even though I don't seem him all that often, I know Steve is there if I need him. I know that he really knew dad - the good, the bad, the ugly - and I know Steve and his wife loved my mom before my dad passed away and they've done a great job loving on her after. 

Just like my dad, I have been blessed with incredible college roommates, roommates that boost the everyday life from mediocre to this-is-awesome. 

I had a roommate who proposed to a professional baseball player with me. (Still waiting for a final answer from him. He definitely saw us and our cute poster in 2007.) That same roommate completely took me under her wing when I transferred from TCU to A&M, and many of my best memories in Aggieland involve her. 

A roommate who broke the news to me that our friend Jay's cancer had spread to his brain, because my parents didn't think they could tell me on the phone while I was in D.C. Not an easy task, and certainly not something you have to do simply because you share a kitchen with someone. 

A roommate who once spent HOURS sketching giant posters for my Teach for America preschool class when I didn't have any ounce of artistic ability to do so myself. 

Another roommate who gave me her prescription cream to get rid of ring worm when I caught it from a student. That's true friendship, folks, when you'll share your prescription ring worm cream with another. 

All this to say, the people that I shared a roof with throughout college and life after, still mean the world to me. Two of my roommates during my semester in D.C. were a huge part of why I enjoyed the city so much, which led me to accept a job there and gave me the courage to stay in D.C. for another nine months. 

I think eventually, usually, it's very common that after years pass, you tend to grow apart from roommates, certainly those from your freshman year of college. 

But not in the case of S.J. and my dad. Even after one of them has left the earth, they're still close. They still look out for each other. S.J. has made it clear he's around for whatever I might need - a random phone call, old pics of my dad - And someday, when Thomas is old enough, S.J. will tell stories of Dad in a way that very few people will be able to do. And though Drew and I may have to censor his stories until Thomas is, oh... thirty... we are still so grateful he'll be there to keep Dad's memory living on and to help our kids feel like they knew this man that means so very much to us. 

So homies, if you're filling out your dorm paperwork anytime soon, keep your wits about you. Choose wisely. Choose responsibly. Or, in the case of Robo and S.J., maybe DON'T choose responsibly, and things will work out just fine. And eventually, after many years, (and for some people mentioned here I really mean many) you'll graduate from college.  

As always, thank you for reading. And... Happy Graduation, class of two-thousand-and-you-make-me-feel-old.