That Day in May.

I’d been having a kind of emotional day on Mother’s day. Anyone who has struggled knows the pain that this day can bring. I found myself in tears at several points. And I felt guilty. I never had a difficult Mother’s day. I was so lucky to be one of the few who doesn’t have to go through the day while suffering a loss or waiting for a baby. I was remembering Mother’s day 2009 and how that was the day we announced to the world that Baby November was on his way. How I had no idea what was coming. How baby November was already in heaven.

I cried for that girl and her family.

I cried tears of joy for that same girl who spent Mother’s Day 2010 walking around a community lake trying to get labor started.

I cried grateful tears for the little boy who was giving me drooly open mouth kisses.

I cried painful tears for some dear friends who would give anything for drooly open mouth kisses.

I wish I knew that there would be a day in the future where this all comes to an end. It seemed for a while that things were looking up. Lots of the girls I followed had babies. Lots of my the girls in my online support group had babies. But then I start reading new stories. And the girls in my group that are still waiting are having so much trouble. It’s not over.

Lots of love to all the moms out there who are missing babies.

A valentine

Faces of Loss presented this monthly challenge:
February’s topic: Valentine's Day is quickly approaching. Write about something special a friend, family member, or other loved one did for you after your baby(ies) died that really touched your heart.

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This post is a long time coming. Sometimes my posts turn into love fests for my friends, but this one is going start out that way. It might get gushy.

I’ve posted about this friend before. She’s made comments. We’re friends in real life. Back in that summer of 2009, she let me know that she had found my blog. I knew that she was following other blogs in this community, so that wasn’t a surprise. It was hard to decide to start writing when I knew a real-life friend would probably discover what I wrote. I didn’t want to ever edit my feelings or be afraid to share something. So I sat for a while and decided that I knew she was compassionate enough not to judge me if I said something crazy. I knew she wouldn’t go around and tell everyone what a nutter I was for *still* being sad. And I was right.

This friend made me feel better on the day I sent the email to my friends telling them that my baby was dead. I remember typing that up and crying and hoping that no one would call me. I think I even put in there that I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it.

I kept her reply. It was perfect.

“I am holding you in my mind. Holding you in a safe place where you are allowed to feel anything, say anything, and be the way you need to be right now.”

We all have the problem of real-life friends not quite understanding what’s happening in our brains. We have to listen to them say crappy stuff. I have a lot of wonderful people in my life and I didn’t have to deal with that much. But to have someone who could understand me in my daily life is truly unique. I’m blessed to have this friend around me.

Having W was a turning point in my life. I’ve said over and over how different emotions kind of knock me out every now and then. I wouldn’t change anything about my life because it got me here, and my losses got me to him. He is everything to me. How can I love him so much and be thankful for him while knowing that I only have him because my other two babies died? How can I honor their memories while also saying that I wouldn’t change anything because of him?

My friend gave me this bracelet when she met W. And it is perfect. I keep it in my pocket almost all of the time. I can’t wear it because of tiny grabby hands, but I reach in and squeeze it. It’s one of my most prized possessions.

Perfect. My baby’s name. His birthstone. Two tiny pomegranate memories at each end. Perfect.

Thank you for being my friend.

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My Faces of Loss Page

The day I found out my friend found my blog

The Common Thread

My friend's aunt's store

Here and there... we were sick, now we're better.

So I’ve been so happy to tell everyone that I’m the luckiest mommy alive. My baby sleeps through the night! My baby doesn’t care if he has formula or breast milk. He’ll switch from breast to bottle without a blink. He gives me kisses. He likes to eat food. He stopped peeing when the diaper comes off.

My luck ran out over the holidays. I woke up sick on Christmas morning and it’s been one thing after another since then. I was on two antibiotics for eye and ear infections. WTF? It was so gross. And I was exhausted. Limbs feeling weak, nodding off at the desk exhausted.

W started running a fever on New Year’s eve and completely stopped sleeping through the night. I know lots of parents are laughing at me. Finally!!! Hahaha! See what we all deal with?? But I’m siiiiiiiick. Uuuuuuuuggggghhhh. Waking up every 45 minutes every night was killing me. M and I generally try to alternate picking up W when he cries. That wasn’t working. M just doesn’t have the mommy touch. W would fall back to sleep, but then he’d wake up 2 minutes later (usually while M is in the bathroom), so I have to go in there anyway. We tried a few nights of winging it. We’d look at each other at the first cries and hope he’d go back to sleep. That meant he just escalated to wails and screams by the time one of us was in there. So the rocking would be 10-20 minutes at a time. Then we would give up and bring him into bed with us. That wasn’t working. Then we tried the no cry sleep solution. We would go in the second we heard the whimpering and pick him up and generally we could put him back down in a few minutes. We also set a cut off time – if (when!) he cried after 3 am, he just came to bed with us. So we got at least a few hours of light sleep. That worked well the first night. Then he started getting stuffed up and just could not sleep unless he was kind of sitting up. So after lots of tears, we went to the guest bedroom with lots of pillows and we both tried to sleep there. M and I alternated days for this. M tried to take more than every other night and would tell me, “Tonight I will take care of W. I’m not tired.” Then he would roll over and push me out of bed at the first cries. I was not mad at him, it was kind of funny. He has no recollection of the pushing.

At one point, I took W to the doctor to rule out any ear infections for him, but he was perfectly fine. I love my pediatrician even more because he took me seriously when I said that my reason for coming in was that W was just not himself.

So that was my life for 2 weeks. Bad sleep, stuffy baby, sick mommy, yuckiness. We started putting some cereal in his bottle at night and we set up a vaporizer and we are squirting saline in his nose (by the way – bad mommy moment – the face he makes when I spray it is hysterical). Something in this combination is working. We’ve had 2 nights of bliss. He’s been waking up, but he wiggles his way up so his head is pressed up against the crib and his butt is in the air and he goes back to sleep. He’s a little piece of heaven. We’re happy again!

I was getting pretty upset during that no sleep time. I would just sit there and rock him and he’d be crying and trying to sit up when all I want him to do is sleep. I was almost in tears from frustration, but then I would stop. I thought to myself about all the times I cried because I didn’t think I would have nights like that. It was strange, and calming, to sit in the middle of the night with a screaming baby and think about how thankful I am. Because that’s what matters the most. Not sleep, I’d trade sleep for him any time.

So back to the cereal in the bottle thing – W is breastfeeding less and less. He used to go to bed around 8 or 8:30 and I’d do a little dreamfeed around 10 when I went to bed. This got all confused when I was sick. I was going to bed right after W went down and when he woke up around 12 or whatever I would try to feed him. Sometimes he didn’t want anything. Sometimes that seemed to make things worse. So I started giving him a bottle right at bed time with a small amount of cereal. That is keeping him asleep and he isn’t even really demanding food right when he wakes up at 6:30. So the night nursing is gone. I’m left with just once per day, first thing in the morning. I’m going to keep it up until next week. He’ll be 8 months on the 19th… I’ll give him a birthday bottle that morning.

How do I feel about this? Not like I thought I would. I’m sad. But not upset sad, we’re weaning on my terms and I’m completely comfortable with it. I want to stop. I want to take strong cold medicines and drink lots of wine. But I’m going to miss it. I’m going to miss the little face he makes when I put him on the boppy (um, he might think Milk comes out of the boppy) and the rooting. I’ll miss his little hands scratching me. I’ll miss the face he makes when I start talking while he’s eating. He pulls off and pushes himself off and gives me a LOOK. Like, lady, I’m trying to eat here. Can you please have your conversations at another time? Really?

The formula feeding stuff is awesome and convenient and easy. Washing the bottles kind of blows, but I had to do that anyway with daycare and pumping. It’s actually less now! W can hold his own bottle so we can feed him while we have dinner or do chores. That means more time for playing. He’s eating all kinds of pureed food. We’re going to start meats soon. He is –just- getting the hang of putting a puff in his mouth to eat it. I’m hoping he’ll start eating little pieces of banana soon. I want to feed him more finger food, but the lack of teeth is making me sad. I’ll be pureeing PBJ sandwiches when he goes to kindergarten.

Merry Christmas!!!

I haven’t had much to say lately – I don’t think anyone is interested in me just gushing about the little guy all the time. He’s army-crawling now. Yesterday I picked him up from daycare and he crawled to me. He started his heavy breathing (that means he’s happy) as soon as I walked in the door and then I knelt down and he came right to me. I was almost crying.

Breastfeeding is coming to a close. I slowed down pumping at work after W was 6 months in November and now I don’t pump at all. I’d been hoping to keep up nursing at night and in the morning, but I can tell my supply is dropping. Plus W is not interested in nursing so much anymore. He’d much rather look around and see who could be in the room. I’ve had to tell M to stop talking sometimes because W loves to look at him.

W’s been eating all sorts of food. Avocado, bananas, sweet potatoes, green beans, peas, pears, carrots. The poop colors have been amazing. I’ve been making his baby food. I never thought I’d be the type to do this, but it’s cheaper and so frickin easy. Even for a lazy bum like me.

I am over the moon excited about Christmas. We took W to see Santa and I thought my heart would explode. He was wonderful and gazed at Santa during the pictures. I loved watching the kids in line – they were talking about what they’d say to Santa and they got to put their letters in a mailbox that had gusts of “snow” blow out when they opened it. It was magical. I can’t wait for W to start understanding the season.




AKD at Little Footprints had a wonderful giveaway and I won (I’m pretty awesome). I feel like I know her in real life, so this is extra special. Her prize was to donate to the March of Dimes in honor of an angel. I’m so proud that my little boy will have this done in his name. Thank you, AKD, for being so generous. You light up my days when you post and your daughter is a beauty!

Due Date - Year 2

So right about now I should be celebrating a first birthday. I should have a funny little boy just starting to run around and I should be exhausted. But I don’t. Don’t feel bad for me, though. I miss that little boy so much and I still cry for him. But this year is so much better than last year. I kind of feel guilty talking about sadness now. I say that a lot here. I’m sad. I’m happy. I want both babies. It’s so conflicting, so I’ll just leave it there. I’ll be thinking about my little Baby November tomorrow, just like I always do.

I just went and read my post from last year. I kind of feel exactly the same. So sad, but so happy.

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Thank you for all the supportive comments about W’s surgery. He’s doing so much better. He’s healing. He might be teething. I went to a MOPS meeting last night and M texted me “W is officially teething.” I rushed home hoping to see something. Nope. Apparently W was just “acting like Satan.” M said his gums felt warm. I stuck my finger in his mouth this morning and couldn’t feel anything. I wish I could take a look, but W won’t open his mouth ever.

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It seems like miscarriages are everywhere right now. Maybe I’m just more sensitive to it. Celebrities are talking about them. A friend just lost her baby at 15 weeks. I’m devastated for her and her family. It takes me right back to that terrible summer and I want to scream thinking that people are just beginning that journey that seems to get worse every day.

There’s that word. Devastating. Every time you see a miscarriage in the news, it is proceeded by devastating. So-and-so suffered a devastating miscarriage prior to this pregnancy. I thought at first that this was kind of redundant. All miscarriages are devastating. To put that word there makes the miscarriage alone sound like it might be ok. It’s not. But then, maybe it is right to have it. To hammer in to the everyone else how bad it really is. Maybe the word miscarriage should be changed to devastatingmiscarriage. Yes, I think that sounds about right. Instead of saying, “I had a miscarriage last year,” I will say, “ I had a devastatingmiscarriage last year.”

Little boy surgery

I’m back at work after two days off to help W recuperate from his circumcision. My poor little boy. I had some moments of self doubt. Were we doing the right thing? Would he hate us for the pain? Would something terrible happen to him during this mostly cosmetic surgery?

To review – We had decided to circumcise before going in for delivery. The OB told us she wouldn’t do it because of the twisted parts. The pediatrician told us about the problem and that it wouldn’t be a big deal and recommended a urologist for the surgery once W got older. I went in to see him at about 4 weeks old. The line on the back of W’s penis was not straight. It went up slightly crooked (let’s say it’s at 6 o’clock) and then veered off to about 4 o’clock when it got to the head. From the bottom of the head to the top it went from 4 o’clock back to 9 o’clock. That part was the problem. Everything else was fine. He could function normally. The urologist told me that he would do the circumcision once W was 6 months old. We scheduled it for Nov 8th because W is a pretty big kid and we wanted him to be healed before the holidays.

We arrived at the hospital at 6:30 am. W was in a great mood. He smiled at the nurses and played with his sample breathing mask. The anesthesiologist gave him a sample one to play with so he wouldn’t be afraid when she gave him the real one. I thought that was a great idea. We were so worried that he’d cry because of the hunger, but he was just fine. After a little bit of prep, I carried him into the OR. The mask came out and he breathed in it for about a minute until he kind of went limp. He wasn’t asleep, but he was. Then I was sent out to the waiting room with M. I cried. The nurse said it would be about an hour.

90 minutes later, the doctor came into the waiting room and pulled up a chair. He got a piece of paper out and drew us a picture of a penis. Now, this was a stressful time and I still had to keep myself from giggling. So the picture showed everything he did and he wrote out care instructions in crazy neat handwriting. The picture showed stitches all around the head and stitches going up a little and down a little where he kind of re-aligned the line. It’s still not perfectly straight, which is fine with us. We weren’t looking for perfect. We just wanted mostly normal.

About 10 minutes after that, we were called back into the recovery room. W was already awake and was crying loudly. I ran to his room and was able to nurse him right away. That calmed him down! He had an IV in his neck (he’s too pudgy for them to be able to get a regular IV in there. They tried.) We went home with a prescription for Tylenol with codeine and a recommendation to buy lots of KY jelly.

The care is to wipe him as normal then cover the entire penis with KY jelly at every diaper change. He gets sponge baths until Thursday and then soaking for a week after that. He can’t be in the exersaucer or baby bjorn or bumpo or anything this kind of uses the crotch to support him.

His penis looks awful. It is swollen and purple with tons of tiny stitches. He has no idea. He is playing and laughing and being wonderful, just like normal. He seems to dread being on the changing table and gives a little cry when we wipe him down. He’s on standard Tylenol and we never used the strong stuff.

I got through my first surgery on my baby. The whole time I felt like running into the OR and taking him home and not circumcising him. But now I’m glad we did it and he won’t have to worry about this in the future. He’s back at daycare today and doing great. I’m glad that it’s over.

Bad dream

I had a bad dream last night. Not that anyone likes reading about other people’s dreams, but it involved me being pregnant again and miscarrying at around 14 weeks again. I tested, talked to daycare about having a second kid there and even had ultrasounds. I think I still have some deep fears about bad ultrasounds. The one I saw in my dream with the dead baby just played over and over again with some disturbing images that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get out of my head.

It was the kid of dream that you wake up from and have to think for a while before you realize that, for once, it was all a bad dream.

October 15th

Just like last year, October 15th is hitting me harder than I expected. But now I’m not just crying for me. I’m sad for all the moms (dads, too) who are still in the dark days of grieving. The parents who are still have fresh pain.

I’ve been reading almost every story on Faces of Loss/Faces of Hope. I can’t read all of them – it’s so much sadness packed into one place. Sometimes I have to skim to keep from crying at work. But I acknowledge each woman, each loss, each heartbreak. That’s why we post those stories. When I first was dealing with the pain of losing my baby, I spent so much time reading other people’s stories. It really did help to know that other people were out there and they had been through the same thing. They knew what I was feeling and some of them had gone on to have babies. It gave me hope. I put my story on the page and I have had a few girls reach out to me. I’ve reached out to some that have stories similar to mine. I love the idea of everyone posting in one place. I hate the idea that they have over 450 posts in less than 4 months.

I posted about today on facebook just in case someone I know is feeling like they are alone. I’m writing here on my blog and I’ll spend lots of time today with my Babycenter friends, remembering how we felt last year and how far we’ve come. And how so many of us are still struggling.

Lots of love and hugs today. So many posts will be reflecting on babies we barely got to meet. I’ve got a feeling it’s going to be a tearful day.

Parenting Manifesto

Lots of my blog buddies are talking about their parenting styles. This made me sit down and try to define mine. I don’t think I subscribe to any one theory completely. If I need to define myself, I would say I’m a “What to Expect the first year” parent. I keep up on a few development books and apply what I like. I listen to podcasts and read blogs and discussion boards. I do research everything, thanks to a job in front of a computer. And I’m not bashing anything or anyone. If your kid is happy then you’re doing it right. No, wait… if your name is Farrah or Amber and you’re on TV, you are doing it wrong. (While we’re on the subject - Maci, girl, you are going to be a success story. And Caitlynn, I want to hug you. Your mom is mean. I have no idea how you came out so good. Keep at it. I’m sorry to tell you this, but Tyler is a pussy.) I mainly wrote this all out so I can look back when W was older and laugh at myself or pat myself on the back. Or even (hopefully) to remind myself of everything when we are doing this a second time.

W does not have a schedule. He has a routine, but mostly does whatever we think he wants to do. For the first month or two he fed on demand for as long as he wanted. I eventually started pulling him off after 20-25 minutes because I was so sore. He now eats every 3-3.5 hours for about 20 minutes at a time. We do go longer in the evening, sometimes he’ll be napping and we’ll realize that’s we went 4 hours or more without feeding him. Then he’ll start crying when I’m pulling my shirt up. Like we reminded him that he might be hungry. Other times he’ll try to nurse from M after just an hour or so. He’s been sleeping through the night since he was 2 months old. I do wake him up/dreamfeed around 10 pm. I’m not sure if he needs it, but if it ain’t broke…

Naps are just whenever he seems like it’s nap time. We shoot for 3 a day. He’ll get more if we drive somewhere. He doesn’t like to sleep with anything going on. He will drift off if we put him in the pack and play, but not in his crib. He doesn’t like to go to sleep if M is holding him. He can fight sleep with M for 30 minutes and then pass out the second he’s in my arms. It’s because I’m boring.

Daycare also doesn’t have a schedule. Once he moves to the walking room they do have structured naptimes and meals. I’ll keep to that on the weekends to make life easier for all of us.

I wear him if he’s really fussy. But I can’t do it a lot. Sometimes I think it’s better to let him fuss for 10 minutes while I do my chore and then cuddle. Most of my chores are laundry and washing bottles. I can’t do either of those with somebody pinching my neck and slobbering on me (not always the baby). I use a Baby Bjorn and a Babyhawk. The Babyhawk is cuter and was great when he was tiny. I use that around the house. The Baby Bjorn is better when we’re out because we can get him out in seconds and M likes it. We’re lucky to have both.

W goes with us almost everywhere. We take him out to dinner. We take him to the grocery store. He goes to parties. We started doing that as soon as I could leave the house. We’re trying to not be “those parents” and only take him places where kids are appropriate. Last weekend we went out to dinner and talked about going to a place we really like with awesome crab dip. Then we talked more about the slow service and the crowd, so we opted for our neighborhood pizza place instead. We take him to the “fancy” places on weeknights (but not that often… the cost of daycare means the pizza place is better for the budget).

W is in a daycare center. He still knows I’m his mommy and he isn’t sick all the time (actually, just a few colds… but flu season hasn’t hit yet). I'm kind of defensive about this because I live in a SAHM community. I got a lot of pity looks when I said he would be in daycare.

I use disposable diapers. I wish I used cloth and I have tons of excuses. The main one is daycare. I just switched to cloth nursing pads. I should have done it ages ago.

I don’t care if W sees TV. I don’t sit him down in front of it, but if he’s in the room with a huge TV, he’s going to see it. And he likes watching football. I try to keep him engaged with toys or read to him when we’re watching it. If I’m doing chores, I have him in the kitchen with me. This will evolve as he becomes mobile.

W isn’t circumcised, but for all the wrong reasons. He has a twisty thing going on and will have surgery in November to fix it. Even if weren’t planning on circumcising, we’d have it done to correct the twistyness. I’ve gotten advice from everyone about how to care for the little guy and most of it was wrong. I even started doubting myself. Once I consulted a Hopkins urologist about it, the comments stopped. I’m pretty neutral about the whole thing. I think that by the time W gets to school, both ways will be acceptable. M wanted it done, so that’s what we’re doing.

We don’t co-sleep, but I understand it and sometimes wish we did. I’m a light sleeper and I’ve been known to act out my dreams. I once pinched M so hard that he cried a little. I was trying to escape from something in a dream. M will startle in his sleep and roll onto anything. I don’t want to subject W to any of that. Plus I like to cuddle with M! We do have family time on weekend mornings. W eats around 6:30 and stays in bed after that. I’m just drifting in and out of sleep at that time and it is a great feeling to wake up and see that drooly face smiling at me.

We don’t cry it out. I say this with an asterisk because we’ve never needed to do it. W rarely cries, so if he is crying at night it’s because something is wrong. We’ve had screams in the middle of the night that went away with a few minutes of cuddles. I have trouble getting myself back to sleep and I’m 30. I can’t expect my 5 month old to do it. I don’t always rush to him – this is where the video monitor comes in handy. Usually he’ll wake up and look around and find his thumb and go back to sleep in a few minutes. Other times, he’ll wake up and find his thumb and stay awake. I can watch him and decide if he needs me. I like that. I’m a new breed of parent that hovers over the kid on the video screen. One night he was making loud sucking sounds and wouldn’t go back to sleep, so I was watching him and thinking about going in to rock him so that I could get some sleep. I noticed his sleeve was covering his thumb. I snuck into his room and released the thumb. All was well!

I guess this opens up another thing: I have a thumb sucker. And I'm proud of it. We sleep.

And of course we don’t have any type of discipline right now. He punches me in the face all the time and pulls my hair and pinches whatever he grabs, but you can’t yell at him for that. He just wants to get close and put my face in his mouth. And really, if I give in and let him pull me in for the slobber fest and lose some hair… it’s so worth it.

A Major Award

I won a prize! It’s awesome.

Cape Girl had a contest to guess Jackson’s weight. I won because I am super-awesome. It showed up and M was so excited. He kept looking at the box and talking about my major award and how it could be anything! We are a little obsessed with A Christmas Story...

Here is a picture:

I won some salt water taffy (yum!) some cranberry jelly, a cool cape cod towel (M spent a lot of time examining this), funny cookie cutters (M thought the fish was a tree) and -my favorite- a little oyster ornament.

I can’t wait to put the ornament on our Christmas tree. I always get ornaments when we go places so we can remember important parts of our lives. Now I have this little reminder that I have so many friends out there in the world. You are all a big part of my life. It might be weird to say, but I feel so close to a bunch of you! It's hard for me to get through a day without thinking of some of you. I talk about you to M and he knows about your lives. Little things happen to me and they remind me of one of you.

We gave W some cereal on Saturday. He didn’t care. I’ve read that babies aren’t ready for the solids if they push the food out with their tongue and don’t eat any of it. That’s about right. We’ll try again in a week. It was so cute to watch him try.

Here is the requested picture of a messy baby. Check out that huge thigh!!!

[adorable picture removed]

BFN - and happy about it!

I’m back to POAS all the time.

Not because I want another baby right now! My hands are full. But because I’m in this no-woman’s land of no AF and the birth control with all these warning about taking it at the EXACT same time every day and the failure rate on the package is higher than the regular pill. It’s freaking me out. Combine that with feeling kind of queasy a few mornings this week and you’ve got a full on panic attack!

So I ordered a ton of internet cheapies so I could test every 2 weeks until we start trying again. Last night I took the first one. It was a perfect, clear, unquestionable negative and I had a nice sigh of relief. Anyway, the packaging made me laugh a little. Here I am buying tests in hopes that I’ll get a ton of negatives and I get pamphlets on OPKs and even a temporary tattoo with *~Baby Dust~* all over it. I asked M if he wanted to wear it. Nope.

I’m now blaming my crummy feelings on something going around. I have a kid in daycare. It’s about time that I get a bug.

Hooray! So, having a 4 month old is still pretty awesome. He’s such a great kid. I get all kinds of compliments from the daycare ladies about how good he is. He likes hanging out and playing with books. He does not like The Little Engine That Could and cries when I read it. This makes me sad because it’s my favorite kid book. He does really like The Belly Button Book and that one is fun to read. Every day with him is amazing. M loves him so much – I love to watch them together. We’ve figured out that M is the fun one and I’m the comforting one. W will fall right to sleep in my arms, but struggle to stay awake with M and watch him make faces. I love that he can grab toys now and will take stuffed animals when I hand them to him. We’re going to give him some cereal this weekend just to see how he’ll react.

I’m so happy to read about how so many of you are so close to babies – and one brand new baby today. I can’t believe how far we’ve come!

100 Days!

Everyone loves a reason to celebrate! Last Friday a coworker asked me when W would turn 100 days old and I realized it would be on Saturday. Woo-hoo! We didn’t miss it!

We went to the beach this weekend, so we were with a lot of my family. My parents invited everyone over to happy hour to celebrate. Some people were meeting W for the first time. My sister in law and niece showed up unexpectedly, which was wonderful. I love spending time with them, especially time when we can just sit around and talk. They were the only ones excited about the 100 days thing anyway. I put W on his boppy and laid out a pen, a paintbrush, a coin, my professional seal and a calculator (these are not the exact things you are supposed to lay out… we improvised). Whichever one he chooses is supposed to be his future. He looked at everything and slapped his hand on the calculator. So we’ve got a numbers guy. Not surprising… he’s got two engineers for parents.

The beach was wonderful. We spent most of Saturday and Sunday out there. We dug a chair in the sand so W could look around and watch the kids playing in the water. He slept when we put him in his tent. He ate when I pulled out my boob. The beach is the only place that I’ve ever nursed in public. I don’t feel as self-conscious there. An advertising plane flew above us on Saturday that said “Babies are born to breastfeed!” and M got very excited and pointed at it. He said it was up there for me.

We stopped for crabs on the way home and I learned some valuable lessons. One - Don’t put the baby next to Dad if you’re eating something messy. He barely wiped the Old Bay from his fingers when he started to dig the pacifier out to ease W’s fussing. I’m sure W would love a little zing with his plastic… The second is that crabs taste a bajillion times better when someone else picks them. We ordered 6 crabs for an appetizer and crab cakes for our dinner. I’m a slow picker, so I ate 2 while M ate all three of his. Then we realized that we had a bonus crab (!!). M had a fourth while I fed W (from a bottle – I’m not ready to NIP at the crab deck!). We saved the bonus crab for dessert. I held W while M picked. He’d give me every other piece and it was heaven. Perfection. I love crabs!!

And everything with W is still going great. I’m getting more comfortable with the daycare thing and pumping is still ok. W is having a growth spurt now and I’m not adding much to my freezer stash and barely keeping up with him. He’s holding his head up and starting to play with his toys. Everything is so amazing with him.

Zippers

I’m wearing pants that button and zip today. I’m not saying I’m in my skinny jeans or anything, but I’m getting there. 5 more pounds and I’ll be at my pre-pregnancy weight. 10 more pounds and I’ll be at my happy weight. Since we joke about the last 5 pounds being the hardest, M has told me I should shoot for 5 pounds less than my happy weight – I’m hoping his idea works!

I walked almost every morning on maternity leave. I started slow, but worked up to over an hour every day. If it was too hot or raining, I went to the mall and chugged around and prided myself on not eating anything from the food court (torture!!). I gained weight from my 2 week incision check to my 6 week check. The nurse asked me if I was breastfeeding. When I said yes she was surprised, “Oh? You gained weight.” Hahaha. Fantastic. I’ve read that nursing moms store fat in case of a famine. I guess that means we’ll get through the next round of potato blight.
Now I can’t walk as much because I have chores to do at night (washing bottles) and I want to spend as much time as possible cuddling. M is a fitness guy. He runs, he lifts weights, he doesn’t add salt to anything and won’t eat hamburger helper (you know the type). He tried to get me to do his exercises, but it didn’t work out. I thought it was boring and I wasn’t good at the “flex your muscles and make a tough face” part. So now I’m doing a post natal rescue DVD. It’s not awful. W watches me. It takes 15 minutes. I don’t know if it’s doing anything… I’m on the second step. I’ll let you know if I ever get to the third one.

I’m hoping a bunch of this weight is in my boobs. I KNOW some of it is in my stomach. I’ve got a little pot belly that is preventing me from getting into lots of my pants. My boobs are preventing me from getting into shirts. I had trouble with button-up shirts anyway. Now I have to stay away from those even more. I put one on this morning and I looked like I was trying to be some comic-book office girl all busting out. Hot? Nope.

Not forgetting

I went to see Eclipse yesterday. Finally. I’m so lame! I wore my New Moon t-shirt. I was happy to be caught up. Whew. I was excited about the previews. Why? Because I was expecting to see the Harry Potter preview. They didn’t show it. Crap heads.

What I did see was a preview for Charlie St. Cloud. It’s not a movie I want to see. I cried during the preview. Not because of the story, but how I could see myself in that role. The basic story (no spoilers – this is just the preview): Zac Efron promises his little brother that they will practice baseball together every night until Zac leaves for college. Then the little brother dies in a car accident. Zac can still see him and they play baseball every evening. Then Zac meets a girl and he starts falling in love and thinks about his brother less and less. Then the girl starts interfering with the baseball playing. The little brother gets angry.

Can you see the parallels to our lives? When I lost my baby, I promised to never forget him. I promised to love him always and think about him all the time. But then W came along. W, who is right in front of me all of the time. Who smiles at me and sleeps in my arms. When I was pregnant, I found myself thinking about the lost baby a little less. Once W was out and with me, I could go a full day without thinking about the lost baby. When I do think about him, I add in some guilt with the sadness. It’s not that I love him less, but… but… what can I say here? I love that baby, but he’s not here. I love W with every cell in my body.

I think the movie is supposed to be about moving on from your losses. I love my dead grandparents, but I don’t think of them every day. I don’t love M’s living grandparents instead of the dead ones. I don’t love W instead of my lost baby. I love them both. Am I moving on from my loss? I hope I’m not forgetting. I don’t want to ever forget, but I do think I’ve learned to live with the loss. I guess that is moving on. I am living in the now instead of the what-might-have-been.

I’m hoping that the baby boy I lost isn’t looking down on me with jealousy or anger. I hope he’s happy to see that we have such a happy family now and he’s encouraging us to fully enjoy our life as it is. I have to believe that.

My first day back

This isn't really a commentary. More of a timeline.

3:40 am – Hear W sucking his fingers. Hope he falls back to sleep (and he does).
5:15 – Hear W sucking his fingers. Hope he wakes up soon (and he doesn’t).
5:40 – M wakes up and gets ready for work.
5:41 – Remember that today is back to work day. Try not to cry already.
6:10 – Get out of bed and have breakfast. Watch W roll around a little on monitor.
6:20 – Realize frozen milk bags did not thaw in fridge overnight. Panic.
6:21 – Put bags in cold water. They thaw in minutes. Unpanic.
6:30 – Get W’s lunch bag packed and kitchen cleaned up.
6:50 – W wakes up, change his diaper and wash his face. Cry a little on him.
6:59 – Feed W. Inspect his crevices to make sure he won’t be the dirty kid at daycare.
7:13 – W gives me the pouty lip, so I know he’s full. I cry a little because I won’t be nursing him until the evening.
7:15 – Pump and pack up that pumping bag. Pray I’m not forgetting anything.
7:30 – Shower and dressed.
7:45 – Get W dressed and ready. Try to get him to smile at me (unsuccessful) and cry.
7:50 – Pack up W and the car. W cries when I put him in the carseat, but giggles while I put on my shoes. I cry.
8:03 – Arrive at daycare. Keep calm.
8:05 – Take W out of carseat. Consider putting him back in and fleeing.
8:07 – Cry while trying to give ladies instructions. They already know all this stuff.
8:13 – Hug and kiss W. Cry.
8:14 – Give daycare more money than I will make this week.
8:20 – Get in car and cry. Call M. Cry.
8:30 – Arrive at work. Smile at coworkers. Don’t talk so I won’t cry.
8:31 – Set up pictures of W.
8:32 – Cry.
9:30 – Coworker asks what W is doing during the day. I cry.
10:00 – Call daycare. W is happy and finished his bottle.
10:10 – First pumping session. Success. No one walked in on me.
10:40 – Cry a little.
11:30 – Have to get a new tissue for a big cry.
12:49 pm – My chest hurts.
1:00 – Second pump and lunch. Pumping is making me sore.
2:20 – Count how many minutes left (190).
2:26 – Talk to M. Try not to cry. Fail.
2:31 – Stare at baby pictures.
2:52 – Call daycare. W liked the swing.
2:55 – Sit in desk chair and cry a little.
3:38 – Jealous of M who has already left work.
4:00 - Begin to wonder if W and M made it home ok.
4:03 - Last pumping session. I'm sore-er than before. Very happy I remembered to pack the Lansinoh!
4:28 - Call home and text M to see if they are home.
4:31 - M calls. They are home and happy. He gives me the rundown on W's pee and poop.
4:32 - Wish I was home.
5:21 - Daydream about going home.
5:27 - I think this day can be over. Pack up and leave. Hope I remember the milk in the fridge!

Two Months

Two months in and I'm still loving this. W makes it easy. He's a great baby. He sleeps through the night (usually 10 pm until 7-ish). He eats great. He doesn't cry that much (unless there's a problem). We are the luckiest parents in the world. This post is kind of all over the place. Just random thoughts I've had over the few days I've been typing this.

He started sucking his fingers reliably this week, so the pacifiers are getting used less and less. Everyone has their own ideas about this, and we decided to go with fingers. W likes them best and we're not happy about having a kid with a paci in his face all the time, so fingers are best for us. We know we'll have trouble down the road getting him to stop sucking his fingers, but both ways present a challenge and the pediatrician told us to go with whatever works. The pacifier is around for when he gets so worked up that he just can't get the fingers to work. Yesterday M's family kept picking it up and shoving it in W's face. I felt like a broken record "It looks like he doesn't want that now." "Hmmm... I think he's ok without the pacifier." "I try not to give that to him if he doesn't want it." and on and on.

Breastfeeding is still going great. It doesn't hurt anymore (took about 4 weeks to get to that point) and my supply is still awesome. I have a great stash in the freezer for him. But it was hard to stick with it. Those first few weeks were tough (and I had it good!). I really admire anyone who had trouble and could still do it. And I also admire those of you who had the good sense to stop trying if it wasn't working. I get so mad at the LCs who say that BFing is SOOOO convenient! Is it convenient to have to wear breast pads everywhere? Is it convenient to not want to shower because you don't want water to touch your nipples? Is it convenient to have to go hide in a bedroom every few hours to feed the baby? Is it convenient to have to go home early from a date because you feel like you're going to pop? Is it convenient to have to pump and store all this milk? Is it convenient to not know how much your baby is eating? Is it convenient to pump 3 times a day at work? I could go on forever... But it is wonderful to be able to provide for him this way. And it's wonderful to watch him look up at me while he's eating. And I like having all that cuddle time built in. No matter who's around, I get to claim him and snuggle for as long as I want because he needs me.

[note - just read Ms J's post about breastfeeding. I agree that you don't need breastfeeding to create a bond. M LOVES giving W a bottle because of the loving looks he gets while feeding the baby. I love rocking W to sleep because of the way he tries to stay awake just to look at me. That's the bonding. Showing your baby that he is safe with you and you will give him everything he needs.]

This is my last full week off. I visited the daycare to make sure everything is ready and I have everything W needs. I'mboth upset and a little excited. I'm ready to get back to my life and having a social outlet. I feel pretty detached from everyone (online and real life). I'll have all the me time I need at work, so when I get home I can focus on W. But man, I'm going to miss him! I'm going to want to go see him during the day, but won't it be harder to drag myself away from him TWICE in one day?

Before I had W, I used to worry if I'd be a good mom. I'm pretty self centered and I need a lot of quiet alone time. M is the only person I've ever been able to be around constantly. I worried that having a baby would make me cranky. But it hasn't. I want W around me all the time. Every morning feels like Christmas. I wake up to his little noises and I want to grab him out of the bassinet and hug him tight. When people visit, I get jealous of them for getting to hold W.

I'm not sure what's going to come out of this blog now. I'm not really into being a mommy blogger. I feel like anything I could say has already been said (much better) by so many other people. It might turn into a place for me to release my frustration about being away from W all day at work.

Fair warning: There will probably be a weepy sad lonely post from work coming in the next two weeks.

Here is a baby in a pool:

[adorable picture removed]

Everything C-Section

This is my c-section preparation post. You know how people sometimes tell you that they are telling you the "Stuff no one tells you?" They are lying. This is for real - the stuff absolutely no one tells you. Some of this is TMI. Be ready!
Last updated: October 13, 2013
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What to pack:
Regular pillows - this is on every list, but I need to add it again. Bring your own pillows!!!! We had one for each of us. That would be the bare minimum.
Boppy pillow (or whatever) - I couldn't really move myself around, so moving me, pillows and a little baby to different positions was a lot of work. If I had my boppy, I would have had a much easier time with the nursing, just getting in the right position was enough work!
Drawstring pants - Maternity pants all have the elastic band really low (right at the incision) or have the elastic high and a seam right at the same height as the incision. Drawstring pants are perfect. You can wear them all high and look funny but the don't touch the sensitive area. At 2 weeks, I could wear maternity sweatpants or pants with the low elastic. I can wear the jeans (with the high elastic) if I wear a tank top that is long enough to protect me from the seam. Not that it hurts, it is just funny feeling.
Dry Erase marker - My room had a board where one nurse wrote her name and the date. That was one of the best things. We usually had no idea what day it was. And then I could ask for my nurse by name when I called the nurses station. None of the other nurses did it because they didn't have a marker. You could even bring your own like you had on your door to your dorm room.
Tank tops - The hospital gown is crap. You'll have to wear it until the IVs come out (because you can't put shirts on over the tubes), but then you will NEED your own clothes.
Nursing bras - Again, you'll be there for several days. You'll want your bras.
Pen and notebook - You'll want to write down what is happening, visitors, notes about appointments and all that stuff. Also, the nurse will give you a confusing sheet to keep track of nursing and diapers. That sheet is ridiculous. Keep track your own way so you won't be all confused when they ask questions. The nurses don't seem to realize you are on crazy drugs.
High fiber snacks - You'll thank me later.
Husband - Get yourself an amazing one. Mine held my leg back during labor, hugged me while I was in pain. Held our son when I couldn't. Changed all the diapers for the first few days because I couldn't stand. Helped me take a shower. Took me to the bathroom. Changed my pads. Walked slowly with me at home. Gave me an enema. He is amazing.
What not to pack: Your own socks. I took socks. They are in the trash now.
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Preparations before you go in:
Take a breastfeeding class. Know as much as possible before your baby is born.

If you have stairs in your house, get duplicates of everything: Butt paste, nipple cream, wipes, whatever and have a huge stash on each floor. They tried to tell me I could only use the stairs once a day... and I live on a 3-level townhouse. I had to ignore that advice.

Eat a high-fiber diet for a week before... lots of whole wheat and activia yogurts! Get that system primed!

Purchase stool softeners and some other supplies. Maybe a suppository or a mineral oil fleet enema. They might come in handy and there's nothing worse than sending your husband out for these things when you need them.

Find some fruit paste and have it ready. Bring some to the hospital! Have some at home! I had my MIL bring me one activia yogurt each day I was there. (Thanks to Katie for her post on dealing with the c-section constipation)

Get your pump supplies sanitized and read the manual. I had to pump at the hospital and at home. Somebody told me to get it all ready beforehand and I am so grateful.

Make sure your husband knows (and agrees with you) about your birth plan and breastfeeding plans. He is the one you are going to lean on the most, and he will be the one making decisions when you can't. He'll also be the one in the trenches with you afterwards, so it's easier for both of you when he knows what you want.
Here's a resource all about c-section stuff: ICAN - International Cesarean Awareness Network.
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After surgery:
Get out that notebook! Write down all the drugs you are getting and their dosages and timing. I had some nurses that would bring me drugs at the right times. Others wouldn't give me anything unless I asked. I was on Oxycodone (spelling?) and some sort of ibuprofren mixture that made a good strong drug. The oxycodone helped the pain and the ibuprofren helped the soreness. They are two very different pains and I wanted to stay ahead of them. I usually knew which one to ask for, but I would have done better if I had the schedule written down.

Make sure you are getting stool softeners.

Get out of bed as soon as they will let you.

Walk down the hall to get your own water.

Don't eat like a pig - don't eat food that will stop you up. If the hospital food isn't what you need, have someone bring you something better.

If you are close to your mom or mother in law (and don't mind them seeing your boobs), have them come visit you that first day and help you. My husband had never changed a diaper in his life and he was overwhelmed at first. I couldn't get out of bed, so I wasn't any help. I called his mom and she came to spend some time with us. I only did this because she is amazing - I wouldn't have called a mother in law that wasn't completely supportive.

On my last day, the nurse gave me some pads to put over my scar to keep my clothes from rubbing on it. Awesome. I had about 1 weeks worth and it made wearing pants easier.

Also, right before you go home, find out when you are due for medicine and how much. Don't forget about medicine in all the excitement of going home. It will haunt you in the middle of the night. Get your prescription for the heavy stuff - I wasn't going to, but I needed it 2 or 3 times. I skipped the motrin and just took advil so I could take less than 800 mg as needed. 

Talk to the lactation consultants every day. They will have different ones, so try to get to all of them. You will learn something new from each one. The second one you see will contradict something the first one said. Listen to all of it and make the decisions for yourself. They are not in charge of you or your baby - you are.
Stand up for yourself. You are going to be in the hospital for a long time. You are going to have multiple nurses looking after you and multiple nurses looking after your baby. In a perfect world, everyone would have the same idea and opinions on breastfeeding and basic baby care as you and you'd all work together as a team. That is not my experience, and it hasn't been the experience of most c-section moms. I hate to say it (because my mom is a nurse and her friends are lovely people), but my situation was us vs. them. With a typical vaginal birth, you are out of the hospital after one night, but I was there from Tuesday at 8 am to Saturday at 3 pm. I posted about my care here. I am happy that I stood my ground about the breastfeeding, but I'm not happy about the way I was treated. I don't think that you should go into the hospital looking for a fight, but I do think that you should educate yourself as much as possible on breastfeeding and basic baby care so YOU know your own opinions. Look into a supplemental nursing system. It's hard to stand up for yourself when you don't know what you want to do. And it's even harder when you are in a post-surgery fog and haven't slept in 3 days. You are not yourself in those early postpartum days.
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Here is the story of my actual surgery: 

Warning! This is about an unplanned c-section after labor. For a planned c-section, click here.

The lead up to surgery was a little crappy. I had to stop pushing, but I was still having contractions. The anesthesiologist came in and made me drink a little cup of something gross. M got dressed in the scrubs and I pretty much laid on my side and whimpered to my mom until the OR was ready.
I was a little afraid. I always heard that you could feel pulling and tugging. I was afraid that I'd feel pain. And I was feeling more than I was supposed to - the doctor was pricking me with a sharp thing on my stomach for a while and I kept telling her that I could feel it. The anesthesiologist was surprised and gave me some stronger drugs. He was a very nice man and talked to me a lot. This is where I stop remembering some things. I remember M walking in and sitting next to me. Then I remember hearing a baby crying and looking over my shoulder and seeing a tiny hand sticking up from the baby station in the corner. Then I somehow knew I had a boy. M told me that he was allowed to come in and saw them opening me up. He claims the anesthesiologist told him it was a boy and then M told me. He also says that he saw W pee all over the place when they were cleaning him up.
Once W was cleaned up, M was able to hold him. I just laid there and watched them look at each other. M got pretty emotional (and of course I did, too!). Every few minutes, M would peek over the curtain and tell me I was still getting stitched up. I could feel little tugs, but nothing painful. And I actually didn't care at all what they were doing to me.
It took about 5 minutes for W to come out and another 45 min to an hour to get me all back together. I have a horizontal incision just above my pubic bone. It is about the length of my hand. I was sown up from the inside and I had steri-strips on the outside. For the first day, I had a big bandaid thing across my belly.
Once I was finished, they gave me W to hold while I was wheeled back to my room. I cried the whole time. We arrived back in our room and our parents came in. M took W into the alcove and the nurse pushed on my belly to get some gunk out. I felt gross (it did hurt a little). I got more pitocin to contract my uterus and some antibiotics.
I could lift my butt off the table almost immediately, so they took me to my post-partum room right away. This was when they took W to the nursery. They need to see the baby within 2 hours of birth, so away he went. I missed him.
I had a catheter and IV in for the first day. I didn't move from the bed and that was ok with me. I was in a little pain, but the IV meds kept me feeling good. In the afternoon, a tech came in and told me I was getting out of bed. She didn't give me the option. She was great to me. I told her I was afraid of the mess and she said it wasn't a big deal and she would clean it up. I walked to the bathroom (slowly) and made a mess. I cleaned myself up - which was very strange with the catheter and IV and everything. But I felt much better. Getting in and out of bed took forever because I could barely lift my legs. It's amazing how much you use your abdominal muscles!
Later on (I can't remember when), I got my catheter out. That meant I had to go to the bathroom on my own. That first time was a little rough. It didn't hurt to pee, it was just hard to get there. At the end of my pregnancy, the pee sensation had kind of changed to just pressure. It was the same way after the surgery. I didn't really know when I had to pee. I kept an eye on the clock and made sure I went every few hours. I had to pee in a container and I filled it up every time.
My IV got taken out sometime, too. But they left the port in. That was annoying. After a day or two I told them I needed it out. It was catching on everything and making me crazy. I learned that if you are annoying about something, the nurse will take care of it for you. But you have to be annoying.
Nurses would check my incision and my vital signs every few hours. I had a huge gas bubble in my abdomen and they would tap on it. Sometimes they would push on my belly (that hurts). One doctor came in and told me she was checking my incision and she ripped off the bandage. She did it quick and I am thankful. Holy crap, that would have hurt a lot more if she had taken her time. I was able to move a little more after that.
Coughing was the worst. I could not cough unless I had help. M would roll up a blanket and hold it against my stomach so I could cough. I felt like me body was going to split in half. It didn't. After the first cough, it got easier, but it still sucked. It was able to cough normally in about a week. The nurses gave me a thing to breathe into to make me cough. I did not use it as much as I was supposed to. (thank you jill for reminding me about this!)
Once I was on pills, it got harder to get my medicine. I had to ask for it and they would ask me about my pain level. This is why I wish I had written down my doses and times I could take everything. I would wake up at night in pain and I don't like that.
The rest of my hospital stay wasn't really about me. I basically took care of myself (except for getting medicine). My mom helped me take my first shower. M helped with the second. I dressed myself and started walking around in the hallways. Walking is the key and the only way to get better. WALK!!
One week after the surgery, I still hadn't pooped. I was in pain. I called the doctor and they told me to take stool softners. I said those weren't cutting it. She said to get suppositories and if that didn't work, to get an enema. I skipped right to the big guns (I was crying because of the pain at this point). M had to give it to me. Then I labored in the tub for about 1.5 hours until it happened. This is where childbirth class came in handy. It was gross. But I felt SO MUCH BETTER. I was alive again. I didn't need a second c-section to get the poop out.
The doctor pulled off the steri-strips at my 2 week checkup. She told me I could drive again.
Four weeks later, I'd say I'm at about 90%. I was so lucky to have the doctor I had. Lots of nurses told me she was meticulous with her surgeries and I can tell. I could walk just fine within a few days. I can carry my baby in his carseat. I can go for long walks. My incision does not hurt at all anymore, but the area above it feels funny.
Here is more on my postpartum care.
*****
A final note: Only one thing matters in this whole world: That little baby. This sounds like total BS: No matter how much pain I was in, the second my son was in my arms, all of that pain was gone.
Also, I'd do it all over again. Even the poop part.

What a difference a year makes

I'm working on the rest of my birth story and hospital stay and I'll post those soon. But I just realized that my blog is a year old. Wow. I never, ever thought I would be here now. Last year I was sitting in my cold office writing to calm myself down so I wouldn't cry through the day. This year I'm in my cozy basement rocking a baby to sleep to give me a few more minutes here.

I'd love to have that first baby here with me now, but I would never, ever change what I have now. I am so in love with this little guy. He's everything I ever dreamed of and he's made me fall in love with life all over again. He's worth all the pain from last year.

I started reading blogs and got some hope from girls who were on the other side. I wondered what it would be like to not worry about losing a pregnancy anymore. Now here I am. I'm a success story. You can be afraid for 10 months and get through it with the support here. It is possible.

I'm still afraid. I wake up constantly during the night and listen for his breathing. I reach into the bassinet just to touch him and feel his chest rise and fall. I'll never stop worrying about him.

Thank you again for getting me to this side of the rainbow. I hope all of you will be here soon.

Baby W's Post-partum story

One thing I didn't mention in my last post - The doctor talked to me after the C-section. I would have needed it no matter what. He was kind of stuck in my pelvis with his chin and shoulder wedged up together and he wasn't going to come out that way. So the surgery wasn't a result of pushing too soon or the induction. It was all about his position.

This is kind of jumbled. I tried to keep it organized, but I honestly can't remember everything that happened during our hospital stay. I remember being tired and walking around with my nipples exposed and wearing mesh panties.

So I left off right with my little boy being born and being sent to post-partum. We arrived in our room around 3:30 am Wednesday morning and I have no idea what happened for a while. I know W arrived back around 5 and I was able to try to nurse him for the first time. It worked! It wasn't great and he didn't eat a lot, but he did what he was supposed to and I was satisfied that he got something. The nurses helped me and stuck around until he was done. They put him back in the little bassinet while he was still awake (around 6 am) and I could see his little face through the plastic (good job designers on making those things clear!). I just stared at him for the next half hour until he fell asleep. My mom left around 6:30 to go home and rest. M was passed out on the little pull out bed and I was just there, knowing I needed to sleep... But how could I?

I'll talk about my medical care in the c-section post - I want to get it all in one place, but I couldn't really move at all the first day. I had to shout at M to wake up to give me the baby because I couldn't poke him or reach anything to throw at him (M, not the baby). M's mom spent the day with us just for moral support. She helped M with the diapers and kind of guided us on the basic steps. We were tired. Both sets of my parents came in to visit. We had doctors all over the place. It was a huge blur. M and I had no idea what day it was.

Some of the nurses were great and some were not. I was not thrilled with the baby nurses. I understand that the baby is their priority, but they treated me like a feed bag. None of them cared what I had just been through. This sounds whiny, but when I cried at the thought of a baby nurse showing up in my room, something must be wrong. In fact, I'm tearing up a little now and it's 3 weeks later. I had one yell at me because I wasn't nursing enough. When I told her about the last time I fed him (3 hours earlier) she said "Well that's your problem" in a very agitated way. Then I spent the rest of the night having my vitals taken every hour because I had elevated blood pressure. I had them yell at me because I had the lights too low. I had another one yell because I was feeding him when they needed to take him to the nursery. I KNOW and AGREE that my baby was the most important person, but I wish I had been treated like a person, too...

On our last night (what was supposed to be our second to last night), W got dehydrated. My milk wasn't in yet and he was a big baby, so he needed more food. We spent the whole night awake. All three of us were crying off and on. By the time the morning came, we were all stressed out and scared. I don't even really remember what happened. I knew I wasn't giving him anything. His mouth was dry and he would only sleep for a few minutes at a time. M would hold him, I would hold him... nothing would work. I said something to my nurse about wanting to supplement him and she came back with a bottle of formula. I politely refused. But I wonder what would have happened if I had been a younger, less educated woman? Would I have taken the bottle and then given up on breastfeeding before I even tried? What if I didn't know my options? How many other moms give up at this point? I was upset and crying even more about this. I'm the type to always follow rules and listen to people in authority - it was hard for me to say no to this nurse! I did eventually get a hold of a baby nurse who was great (the only one I liked) and she set me up with a SNS (Supplemental Nursing System). I used it at the hospital and at home until Sunday (Day 5) when I finally started getting some milk. They also gave him some formula in the nursery to rehydrate him. I don't know if they used a bottle or not. I don't want to know. All I know is that I cried a ton and felt like I didn't deserve to have a baby. I felt like a failure. Once we started the supplementing and he was calm again, we were all much better. And ready to get out of the hospital.

Saturday morning (Day 4), I started telling every person that came into our room that I was ready to leave. We were going home that day. I couldn't take one more day in that room. M and I had been there since Tuesday morning (he'd been home twice to shower and get stuff). I was tired of getting woken up by people coming in constantly to check me or the baby. I was tired of calling the nurse to give me medicine. I was tired of the bed and the low chairs. I wanted to be home and to get our life started! And it worked. We were discharged at 3 pm and home by 4.

I cried when I got home. W slept. It hasn't all been easy since then, but the good times are better than I imagined.

Baby W's Birth Story

This took forever, but I didn't want to forget a thing. It's rough to stay away from this little face for too long, so most of this was written with my foot rocking a car seat and that little face giving me dirty looks whenever I stopped! Now he is snoring!

Things are going pretty great now. He's eating a ton and gaining weight like a crazy guy. Nursing is exhausting and I can see why people give up. Nipple sheilds are my savior - I have inverted nipples! Who knew! That does not mean they are innies, it means they retract when I squeeze my boob. He's sleeping great and has a fun little personality. This is wonderful.

So here's the birth part of the birth story. It's long and doesn't even begin to describe they whole experience.

We woke up around 6 am to get ready for the induction. I had cheerios and water for breakfast. It wasn’t very satisfying. I wanted to eat a lot, but the instructions I had said to eat lightly that morning. I should have ignored that! I went to the bathroom shortly before leaving the house and saw that I lost my mucus plug. Hooray! Labor would happen in a week or two!

We arrived at the hospital around 8 am and I was in a room and hooked up to the monitors by 8:10. The weather outside the window was grey and steamy – we were looking out over a bunch of roof vents. M was freezing and I was sweating. The baby’s heart rate stayed in the 130s and 140s and I was so relaxed knowing it was ok and I would be seeing my baby soon! My IV went in at 9:12 and Pitocin started at 10:10. They upped the Pitocin drip at noon and stripped my membranes. I believe I was up to 3 cm at the time and the contractions were barely noticeable. We watched HGTV for a while and read. I tried to nap, but I was so excited. M and my mom got some lunch and ate it in front of me. The nurses kept saying that I could eat whatever I wanted as soon as the baby was here. I wanted everything I saw advertised on the TV.

My contractions started getting more intense around 1:45. They were getting painful and coming in regular waves. I decided to hold off on the epidural a little longer. Then I started crying through contractions and my nose would get stuffed up (I was still recovering from my awful cold!) and I wouldn’t be able to breathe and I’d start coughing. Those three things would send me into a panic. We decided I needed some pain medication at 3:00. I had a student do my epidural, but a real anesthesiologist was there with her. M and my mom were sent out of the room (that made me sad) and I was left with the nurse. She did a good job of calming me down and getting me into the position I needed. I am grateful for her doing that. The worst part of the whole process was the numbing needle. Everything else was painless (except for the contractions I had while they were working on me). I also got the catheter put in and that broke my water fully. It was gushes and gushes and felt gross.

The epidural was great for about 2 hours. Then it wasn’t great anymore. I was having strong contractions that I could feel down my right leg. We learned that epidurals are gravity fed afterwards… I had been propped up on a pillow at some point for some reason, so the medicine didn’t go all the way to the right side. Bummer.

At some point, the alarm for the epidural pump kept going off saying there was a kink in the line. I sat up and they inspected the whole thing, but no one could find the problem. Hearing that alarm go off was driving me nuts!

Around 7:30, I decided I wanted to push. They checked and I was close to 10 cm, so I just had to wait for the doctor. Someone opened the epidural pump and saw that the kink in the line was inside the pump, so that got fixed. The medicine wasn’t at 100%, but at least it was something. I could feel that I was having contractions, but they weren’t crazy painful. I was also scared out of my mind. M and my mom were right by my side holding my legs in the position I wanted and giving me love.

The doctor showed up and we were pushing. It took a few tries to get the hang of it and then I was an expert. You know how I knew I was an awesome pusher? Because I pooped the ENTIRE time - with every push. The poor nurse. I could feel it. It was funny and gross. Mike said it was not as funny as I thought. At some point I told the nurse to shut up. The blood pressure cuff would tighten during the contraction and I would lose the ability to push. I was sweating like crazy and my last push with every contraction turned into a scream. I pushed with the handle bars, I pushed holding my own legs, I pushed with the tug of war. I pushed for over 3 hours. No dice. I could tell when the head was close because M and my mom would get so excited and tell me to keep pushing. But he wouldn’t come out. The doctor finally called it off. I was getting tired and the baby couldn’t be having too much fun, either. The heart rate stayed wonderful for the entire time, so that was good to know. They checked out the OR and we had to wait for an emergency c-section to finish before I could go in.

At this point, M got pretty upset. I wasn’t afraid or anything, but I imagine it’s pretty traumatic to see someone you love go through all this at once. That 1-hour (plus) wait was rough. I still had contractions and the baby’s head felt like it was going to explode out of my butt. I made the nurse reassure me that I didn’t have hemorrhoids. She said I didn’t. That made me feel better. So the contractions were killing me and M took pictures. We have a great one of me in pain and him all dressed in scrubs and smiling.

I went into the OR first. M had to wait for me to be completely numbed up before he could come in. I remember them sticking me with sharp things to check my numbness. I kept feeling it. They were surprised and just gave me more drugs. Then I was very happy and very numb. Suddenly, M was next to me. I was happy to see him. Then I looked over towards the baby area and I could see a small hand reaching up into the air. I had no idea the baby had even been born. I could not believe what I was seeing. M told me it was a boy and just cried. I just remember being so happy. After a few checks, M was able to hold him while I got sewn up. I could feel little tugs, but nothing bad. Who cared what they were doing to me. I had a son! My husband was holding our baby! M got pretty emotional (who wouldn’t!). I think it took more than 45 minutes to get me all back together. We just looked at out little boy. He was wide awake and so beautiful.

The nurses put him in my arms to get me back to recovery. I cried the whole time. We got back to my room and M went to get the grandparents from the lobby. He didn’t tell them anything except that we were fine and happy. They walked in and I introduced them to their grandson. The grandmas screamed and cried. I cried. M took the baby into the room alcove to meet everyone while the nurses finished some stuff with me. They pushed on my belly some more and changed some pads and got me ready to leave labor and delivery.

W had to go to the nursery at 2 hours old. I hated seeing him go. I wasn’t allowed to try to nurse him (it makes sense now – so many drugs!). I also could not have anything to eat or drink. I had to beg for ice chips. They tasted like heaven. Once I was able to lift my butt with my own power, I was moved to post partum where I would stay for the next few days.

We're Home!

[adorable picture removed]

[family picture removed]

Hi Everybody! I can't post much, but I wanted to say thanks for all the congratulations!



W was born at 12:10 am on May 19th. He is 8 lb, 6 oz and 21 inches long. He is a dream come true. I had a long labor with 3 hours of pushing when my doctor decided it was time to stop. When she went in with the C-Section, he was stuck with his head and shoulder all wedged together. He came out screaming and is a very healthy little boy.



We had some issues with feeding, he was so big and my milk wasn't coming in. We supplemented with some formula (with an SNS system - look it up - pretty cool) and it looks like I had some of the real stuff today. I'll have the full story at some point. I can't go up and down stairs a lot and the computer is int he basement, but I'll get it ALL on here.



Thank you so much for all the support and love. I can't wait to catch up with everyone else.



xoxoxo

He has arrived!

Hello, all! Cheryl's friend here! So happy to have some great news to share. Cheryl had a baby boy named W at 12:10 am May 19th. He was 8lbs 7oz. Based on some late text messages, I believe she had a c-section and is doing fine.

Cheryl wanted all her bloggy friends to know that her new buddy arrived as soon as possible. I am so happy for them. Cheryl and M will be wonderful parents to this little guy and we love them so much!!!

Away we go!

We're getting ready to leave for the hospital. I can't believe the day is here. One year ago today my world was ending and today I have a whole new beginning.

I'm the happiest girl in the world.

40 Weeks and 4 Days

I don't have anything new to say, just checking in to say that I have nothing to say. I always get excited when bloggie friends are close to (or past) the due date.

I do have a buddy lined up to let you guys know when the big event is complete. We must be the only people on the planet without iphones or laptops. Maybe that's a good thing...

40 Weeks and 2 Days

Four more wake-ups until induction. I'm scheduled for 8 am Tuesday morning and it can't get here fast enough.

After this post, I'm taking myself for a walk. I don't have any fears that the baby will start coming out while I'm walking, so I'm ok with going while home alone. I feel dumb that I used to worry about that.

I don't have much else to talk about. The baby is moving fine and I'm cranky and uncomfortable. My Father in Law gave me a nasty, sinus-y cold. So I'm kind of grateful that we don't have a baby right now. When my MIL found out that I got sick, she went ape-shit on FIL. You know that scene in A Christmas Story where Ralphie's mom asks him where he heard the F word and he blames it on Flick (or Swartz... I can't remember)? And Ralphie's mom calls Flick's mom and you hear Flick's mom start beating him with the phone? That's what happened to my FIL yesterday. Poor man. It's not like he was trying to give me a cold. Now she's all doom and gloom about M getting sick, but mostly about her getting sick and not being able to touch the baby.

The thing with this cold is that now I feel all protective. No one is coming near our little family without a doctor's note saying they are healthy. And maybe I'll make everyone wear surgical masks. I'm absolutely in misery and I'm 30 years old. Imagine being 30 hours old and getting your first head cold.

So that's my update. I'm cranky. I'm sick. I'm still pregnant.

40 Weeks

Hi! It's my due date! Where's that baby???

The good: I've made it to a fully cooked little (big?) baby! We're both healthy and happy. One of us is a little too happy... I am fully prepared to have a child in this house. I have cereal now.

The bad: Well, it's my due date and the baby is still in my belly. That's not why I was counting down to today!

The ugly: Me. I'm not in too bad shape, but I know poor M must think I'm gross. I'm just really a huge lump of sweat and farts that has to pee a lot. He's being nice and pushing my butt to help me get off the couch. But I'm gross and I know it.

The Appointment:
I did not gain any weight this week. This is the first thing I've had that I can find on my "what happens before labor list" that we get in childbirth class. The Drill Sergent told us that we would stop gaining weight or loose a little right before we have the baby. I am pretending that it doesn't matter that this was a morning appointment and I usually am in there right after lunch.

I measured myself with the tape before the doctor got in there because they never tell me where I am. It said 39 weeks. M said that means I have another week. I told him to never talk to me again. Then the doctor came in. She said I measured on time. I am 3-4 cm dilated and the baby is "way up there." So that's progress and I know I won't have to worry about going to the hospital and having them tell me I'm at a 1. That would suck.

I asked her about work and told her I stopped going on Friday. She said to just leave the disability forms at the front desk and they'll get them filled out for me. That's a great thing. Now I won't feel (semi)guilty about not working this week. And I can get another week out of my very crappy short term disability.

Then we started talking induction. I wanted to go as soon as possible. She said Tuesday. One of us is a doctor, so that person wins. I am currently waiting for a phone call from the nurse to get that scheduled.

Then for the fun! I got a Non Stress Test, which was awesome. I got to curl up in a huge comfy recliner and listen to the baby's heart beat for 20 minutes. M got to sit with me on a wooden chair. He had to pee, but he was afraid he'd miss something. So he just sat with me the whole time. I called my mom so she could hear the monitor and she liked it. The doctor took a look at the chart and pronounced us good. The heart beat was steady the whole time.

Next was an ultrasound to check the fluid. The baby looks SO different now. I couldn't tell what anything was, not even the head. We were on an old machine, so you can't really see much anyway, but she measured the fluid pockets and checked the position. Everything is perfect.

I guess I couldn't ask for anything more. We're both doing great, so there is no need to induce me now. That's a good thing (I keep telling myself). And with this much dilation... I could still go at any time (right?).

The emotional stuff: So, May 18th (Tuesday, induction day) is exactly one year since we found out our baby died. The worst day of my entire life. I could be leaving the hospital with a new baby one year after leaving with no baby. This is kind of hard for me to take. I told M I didn't really want the baby born on the 18th or 19th because those are bad days for me. But I also think that maybe it will be ok... I mean, it's like having a baby on Sept 11... it brings some good back into that day. Something positive.

The Waiting

I'm happy to say that I'm not bored out of my mind. I am enjoying these days of relaxing and cleaning at a slow pace. This morning I am going to give the kitchen a good cleaning and do some vacuuming. Then the house will be as clean as it can get (except where I look down right now and see where M tracked leaves in from the grill last night... men!).

I had one "contraction" feeling thing this morning at 5:45. But still no other signs that anything is happening.

M and I feel like we're getting ready for a camping trip, but we don't know when we're leaving. We've stocked the house with non-perishable items and I'll make a trip to the store again today or tomorrow to get a few more things. We have enough meat in the freezer to last 3 weeks. Does it matter that we live 1/4 mile from the grocery store? That my mom will be here with us? That we have M's family 5 minutes away and amazing neighbors who would get us anything we need? It's a complete unknown out there. Our lives are going to explode with change this next week and we have no idea what to expect. I deal with it by cleaning. M deals with it by... um... not really doing anything different.

So here's to waiting and drinking all the raspberry herbal tea I can handle. At least all the sugar I put in it is keeping the baby busy!

39 week appointment

So why is it that the girl who weighs me always thinks I weigh less then 150 pounds when I get on the scale. I am 2 pounds lighter than my husband right now. I always have to tell them to bump it up another notch. No way is that 100 pound notch going to work.

I peed all over my hand this time. It is the worst I've ever done. The problem was that I'm so hot and sweaty that I didn't really notice. I got very little in the cup.

We had a long wait in the room today and we didn't have much to talk about. M doesn't have much to do at work (good thing!) and we haven't been doing anything really interesting. So I just sat there and sweated all over everything. Once the doctor had me lay back for the check, I had to stand up to peel the paper from my butt! M helped me get the little shreds off after she left. He thought this was the funniest thing ever.

The big news is... no change! Still 2 cm, still 80% effaced. We are to walk, drink raspberry herbal tea (I hate tea), and have lots of sex. If I make it to my appointment on Wednesday, we'll talk induction.

39 Weeks

The Good: I have a lot of good this week. I’m more comfortable now than I was last week, which is weird. The baby changed positions – it had been facing my right side and seems to now be facing my back. So I’m balanced now, not carrying the baby all on my left side. Rolling over in bed is a LOT easier and I’m sleeping more than 2 hours at a time. I have 3 days (including today) left of work.

The Bad: I’m mad at everything. Time is crawling.

The Ugly: I cut myself shaving this morning. It’s not like I was using a real razor or anything, I was using a little trimmer, but I guess those things aren’t completely safe when you cannot see what you’re doing. Eh, oh well. It’s not like I did a good job anyway. And I know the doctor doesn’t care.

I walked 2 miles last night and then drank a big glass of pineapple juice. I was in a little bit of pain after the walk, but nothing that felt like it could be labor. It was more like “I’m going to head butt you in the privates for moving around so much!” pain.

I don’t get to walk tonight because M invited some neighbors over for dessert. They had us over for dinner several weeks ago and he feels that we have to reciprocate ASAP (or we never will). At least I talked him out of making dinner for them. We’re going to have ice cream cones on the deck. These are very nice people with a 7 month old. But I just want to sit on the couch and be cranky.

And thank you so much for all your supportive comments over the past week. I seem to jump all over the place in my moods and you guys understand. I love you for that.

One year ago

It's so weird to think back to myself a year ago. May 4, 2009 was the last time I saw my little boy alive on the ultrasound screen. It was such a great day. I remember calling our parents and squealing about how cute he was. We knew he'd here in November. We started telling everyone. I now know that he passed away a few days later, while we were still sharing the happy news.

I am not where I thought I would be now. I'm not sure how I'll feel as the actual anniversary arrives. I hope it turns out a lot like his due date, where I felt that he would want me to be happy with all the great news I was having. I hope that I'll feel at peace on May 18th and feel him looking down at us as a new little family of three. He won't be the one we'll be hugging and holding and loving, but he'll be in our hearts.

Of course, I still have a tiny voice telling me I'm not out of the woods yet. This baby still has to make it to the day it (finally) decides to be born. Then the delivery has to go well. And all the other unknowns have to line up. I'm afraid. But hopeful. And looking forward to something great.

Done cooking

My craziest fear is about to happen....

Behold the popped belly button! Gross!

Waiting

9 days until my due date.

I’m starting to believe I will be pregnant forever. This is where my complete lack of patience is starting to show. Every time I have any kind of little pain, I wonder if this is the beginning. It never is.

My plan for the weekend was to walk all over the place and do all kinds of labor inducing things. M would not participate in the ones he would be useful for… he said the baby isn’t ready yet and blah blah blah.

I have lots of little things from the weekend:

I met up with an old friend for dinner on Friday. I hadn’t seen him since 2006! We had Pho (Vietnamese soup made out of salt and beef and noodles). We were sitting around talking when I realized that my feet were exploding out of my shoes. Salty dinner plus hot day…. Oops!

We went to a sheep and wool festival on Saturday with the neighbors. It was a great time. I had Pit Lamb. Do you know how good Pit Beef is? Multiply that by 100. Wow. I did get to walk all afternoon and I wasn’t even that miserable! I had to wear normal shorts (I’m not about to go buy any more clothes!) and I had trouble getting them over my thighs. I did not see any pregnant sheep. Could you imagine being pregnant with something that has hooves???

Sunday was too hot to go outside, so no walking. Maybe tonight?

My bag is packed with a list of last-minute items sitting next to it. All of our windows are painted. My to-do list is still full of tiny things, but they are not anything that needs to be done before the baby comes.

Just waiting. Trying not to complain!