And then at the CD1 appointment on Christmas Eve I found out that not only was my doctor's clinical coordinator out of town til January, but so is the doctor, with no gameplan left behind for the people who would be providing our care.
That's a problem, because I absolutely wouldn't have started if we had known he was going to be out of town, and also because thousands of dollars are riding on this which I refuse to let go to waste on a cycle where we're getting shuffled around between doctors. Especially considering that the last time that happened at a different clinic, three weeks in to shooting up with hormones and committed to the tune of $4,000 for an IUI that we'd never get to do I found myself sitting across the desk from a doctor who didn't know my name casually flipping through my chart and asking, "Why don't you think this is working?" and "what do you think we should do?"
Is this even real life? If I knew how to get myself knocked up we wouldn't be here chatting, bro.
Long story short, that treatment ended in a miserable did-not-finish failure that left our bank account and morale on empty.
However - it was a blessing in disguise, because the doctor who did review my chart sat down and explained that it would be in our best interest not to move forward until we did a saline sonogram and determine if the fibroid that caused complications with Cade's pregnancy needed to be removed, and see if others were present. Fibroids are benign growths inside the uterus that can cause failure to implant, miscarriage, preterm labor (which I had) and preterm delivery (my water broke with Cade at 36 weeks). We would love to not have a repeat of the miscarriage scare we had at 7 weeks too, so I'm incredibly grateful that this new doctor did sit us down and explain patiently why this is so important, and laid out our several options to proceed.
We'd rather do this right and give our embryos the very best chance, so this is what we're going to do. The saline sonogram is scheduled for next week and I'm mentally preparing to hear that surgery needs to happen and allow for a month or two to heal before moving forward.
I really had thought that having had Cade the feelings I experienced throughout the years leading up to getting him wouldn't resurface, but I've been pretty surprised with how frustrated I've been this week. I keep reminding myself that there's so many worse trials and I honestly wouldn't want to experience any of the ones I've seen other people go through. I just wish the feelings of frustration, anger at others getting to have kids without being repeatedly violated by other people, and freaked out at the fact that I have absolutely zero control over this or how many kids we'll get to have weren't real.
You all should probably say a prayer for Jeff because without fail, every time these treatments start and with them loads of synthetic hormones, my everyday garden-variety crazy grows exponentially into a kind of crazy you can't even imagine. And he has to live with that - so, yeah - he's a saint.
ANYWAYS. Here's to hopefully trying again in February or March.
Tuesday, December 26, 2017
Tuesday, December 19, 2017
It begins: FET
Today I went and got my PIO shot to kick off our FET. It was a little odd being there with my son, surrounded by patients who are still waiting for their baby. I remember being annoyed at those people when we were in the middle of treatment. Oh well - hindsight, right?
I saw women who had clearly just finished their egg retrieval looking like they were wading through molasses, still not fully conscious. Annoyed husbands who were put out, uncomfortable, stressed, probably angry that they were shelling out so much money for what can feel like a total gamble. Then there were the husbands who were every bit as excited and hopeful and invested as their wives. Older couples. Young couples. My heart broke a little for each of them and I said a silent prayer that they would all get those babies that they were sacrificing and hoping for so much.
It felt a little like coming home, though. We had to wait a little longer than normal since they were so short staffed due to the holidays, but Cade was an angel and every clinical person who saw him talked about how perfect and adorable he was and how it makes them feel just so GREAT to meet the babies they were so involved with. To an outsider that probably sounds like lip service, but I can promise that these people meant it. They are 100 percent aware of how miraculous it is and grateful their patients are for the total gift of parenthood. Several of them are/were/will be fertility patients also, so they understand every emotion and worry of the process. We don't take it for granted, neither do they. I love, love LOVE that they recognize just how monumental these babies are and share so much in our joy.
Anyways, I got my PIO shot to kick off the cycle. From there, I call on day 1, order meds, and then start bloodwork, estradiol, and ultrasounds on day 2. I'm not exactly sure how it will roll out from there but it should only be a couple of weeks after that to transfer.
I'm excited. I feel good about getting started again. I've had some worries, doubts, and concerns about doing this with Cade. I've felt a bit like I'm shortchanging him and I don't know why. At the heart of it, though, is that we feel we are ready to expand our family and want so badly to give him a built-in best friend. It just felt "right" to be there today and I know that we're on the right path.
I saw women who had clearly just finished their egg retrieval looking like they were wading through molasses, still not fully conscious. Annoyed husbands who were put out, uncomfortable, stressed, probably angry that they were shelling out so much money for what can feel like a total gamble. Then there were the husbands who were every bit as excited and hopeful and invested as their wives. Older couples. Young couples. My heart broke a little for each of them and I said a silent prayer that they would all get those babies that they were sacrificing and hoping for so much.
It felt a little like coming home, though. We had to wait a little longer than normal since they were so short staffed due to the holidays, but Cade was an angel and every clinical person who saw him talked about how perfect and adorable he was and how it makes them feel just so GREAT to meet the babies they were so involved with. To an outsider that probably sounds like lip service, but I can promise that these people meant it. They are 100 percent aware of how miraculous it is and grateful their patients are for the total gift of parenthood. Several of them are/were/will be fertility patients also, so they understand every emotion and worry of the process. We don't take it for granted, neither do they. I love, love LOVE that they recognize just how monumental these babies are and share so much in our joy.
Anyways, I got my PIO shot to kick off the cycle. From there, I call on day 1, order meds, and then start bloodwork, estradiol, and ultrasounds on day 2. I'm not exactly sure how it will roll out from there but it should only be a couple of weeks after that to transfer.
I'm excited. I feel good about getting started again. I've had some worries, doubts, and concerns about doing this with Cade. I've felt a bit like I'm shortchanging him and I don't know why. At the heart of it, though, is that we feel we are ready to expand our family and want so badly to give him a built-in best friend. It just felt "right" to be there today and I know that we're on the right path.
Tuesday, December 12, 2017
"Lose that baby weight"
After having gained 60 lbs during my pregnancy - yeah, I was pretty fluffy - I imagined I would be aching to get back in shape and shrink back down to my pre-pregnancy, pre-motherhood body size and shape. I'd hit the gym religiously at 6 weeks, eat nothing but absolutely healthy foods, and be back in my jeans and lookin' fine by 6 months.
AND, as per usual, I was wrong.
I lost about 35 lbs in the week after having Cade (mostly water weight, I was SO swollen), and continued to drop about 12-15 more, depending on the day, over the next several weeks. I've still got about 10-12 to go.
But here's the funny thing: I'm not bothered. Not at all.
Within the first few weeks after giving birth, I had some people in my neighborhood reach out to me with proposals along the lines of, "I've got this really awesome exercise program that I'd love to tell you about! It'll really help you lose the baby weight, so when you're ready to start getting back in shape let me know!" to "I'm having a shake party at my house. It's really great for breastfeeding and will totally help you drop the baby weight. I'd really appreciate it if both you and your husband would be there."
That last one is actually almost verbatim.
I wasn't offended that people were offering to "help" me get back in shape. What I was bothered by was that a) what they actually just wanted me to be an income source and participate in their MLM, which I am adamantly annoyed by and opposed to and b) they assumed that I was unhappy with my body and how I looked. That last one was definitely the worst.
I finally snapped and made a thinly-veiled post on facebook that I knew they would see to announce to the world that I was fine with myself. After years of fertility treatments and just wanting my body to function normally, I truly could not have been more in awe of it. Yeah, there's some loose skin, and stretchmarks, and still a bit of chub - but in place of that previously somewhat fit and slender girl was a mother who had a lot more to think about than herself. Rather than pawn him off to Jeff so I could go sweat for an hour, I wanted to spend time together as a family. Instead of using his nap to get a workout in, I was spending it at the computer working to help provide for my family. Yes, I get a few workouts in each week and I do generally try to eat well, I'm not a stickler and I'm okay with how I look. My priority for the last while was to be eating well enough to breastfeed, and my priority over the next couple months is to get pregnant again. The best course of action, for me, was to maintain strength and general health without an emphasis on being a hard-body.
To date- now almost 14 months postpartum, I don't regret missing a workout or all that extra time snuggling with my kid and hanging out as a family. It went by in a blur.
Also, I just haven't found the energy or motivation to get there. I'm okay with that also.
My plan is to "lose the baby weight" and "bounce back" after this next baby, or whenever we're done having kids. Getting back to baseline is not healthy for me mentally right now.
And I'm okay with that.
AND, as per usual, I was wrong.
I lost about 35 lbs in the week after having Cade (mostly water weight, I was SO swollen), and continued to drop about 12-15 more, depending on the day, over the next several weeks. I've still got about 10-12 to go.
But here's the funny thing: I'm not bothered. Not at all.
Within the first few weeks after giving birth, I had some people in my neighborhood reach out to me with proposals along the lines of, "I've got this really awesome exercise program that I'd love to tell you about! It'll really help you lose the baby weight, so when you're ready to start getting back in shape let me know!" to "I'm having a shake party at my house. It's really great for breastfeeding and will totally help you drop the baby weight. I'd really appreciate it if both you and your husband would be there."
That last one is actually almost verbatim.
I wasn't offended that people were offering to "help" me get back in shape. What I was bothered by was that a) what they actually just wanted me to be an income source and participate in their MLM, which I am adamantly annoyed by and opposed to and b) they assumed that I was unhappy with my body and how I looked. That last one was definitely the worst.
I finally snapped and made a thinly-veiled post on facebook that I knew they would see to announce to the world that I was fine with myself. After years of fertility treatments and just wanting my body to function normally, I truly could not have been more in awe of it. Yeah, there's some loose skin, and stretchmarks, and still a bit of chub - but in place of that previously somewhat fit and slender girl was a mother who had a lot more to think about than herself. Rather than pawn him off to Jeff so I could go sweat for an hour, I wanted to spend time together as a family. Instead of using his nap to get a workout in, I was spending it at the computer working to help provide for my family. Yes, I get a few workouts in each week and I do generally try to eat well, I'm not a stickler and I'm okay with how I look. My priority for the last while was to be eating well enough to breastfeed, and my priority over the next couple months is to get pregnant again. The best course of action, for me, was to maintain strength and general health without an emphasis on being a hard-body.
To date- now almost 14 months postpartum, I don't regret missing a workout or all that extra time snuggling with my kid and hanging out as a family. It went by in a blur.
Also, I just haven't found the energy or motivation to get there. I'm okay with that also.
My plan is to "lose the baby weight" and "bounce back" after this next baby, or whenever we're done having kids. Getting back to baseline is not healthy for me mentally right now.
And I'm okay with that.
Thursday, October 26, 2017
Go Ahead and Get Your Judging Pants On
Today was my son's 12 month well visit. "Well" in the sense that it was scheduled to check his height (70%) and weight (70%) and all that stuff but also ironic in that we walked out with a script for an ear infection, poor kid.
During this visit, I had what I had anticipated would be an all-out battle of a conversation with his pediatrician regarding shots.
SPOILER: My mom gut freaked out at 6 months and told me in no uncertain terms that Cade was not to have anymore shots.
SPOILER #2: It was a really pleasant, positive conversation that just made me love his doctor.
As a 25-yr militant member of the "VACCINATE EVERYONE FOR EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME" club, this was a shock to my brain and spurred months of research on both sides of the aisle for two reasons.
1) I wanted to pinpoint exactly what my fear was, what I anticipated Cade's issue being, and weight the pros and cons.
2) I wanted to assuage that fear, because VACCINATE EVERYONE.
What I found just made me more and more uneasy, I have an idea of what Cade may have experienced, and my fear was fueled.
So at least for this child of mine, there won't be any.
The doctor asked if I'd like to discuss why I was opting out of future vaccinations, and I laid that previous information down for him followed by, "Trust me, man. It freaks even me out because like I said - I used to be that person who would argue with moms on the internet who chose not to vaccinate their kids, call them stupid, and then walk away feeling morally superior."
"You know there's better ways to feel morally superior, right?" He said.
I realize this was his good-humored attempt at participating in the de-escalation of a potentially scary moment for me as I was asserting my newly-arrived mama bear and I appreciate it.
He continued with, "You know, I'm a huge believer in parent instinct. I've had several experiences where moms have come in demanding that I test for crazy diseases and I've told them they are wrong - only to do the testing and it turns out they were absolutely right. So there's a lot to be said for Mom Gut and I don't question it. I would hate to give him a shot and have him experience something adverse and then go, "Oh, yeah, that's probably why we shouldn't have done that." And I honestly believe you're doing what you think is best for your child, however, in the outbreak of an MMR illness I would strongly recommend that you reconsider that single vaccine."
And that was it.
So, yeah. Judge me, I don't care - I believe that vaccines have saved a lot of lives and work perfectly well for so many people. I also believe that there have been an unrecorded number of vaccine-related life altering changes and illness in kids, and a whole host of things that still need to be tested, and I just CAN'T give my kid vaccines. At least not right now. So judge me on that front, and also feel free to judge my previously judgy nature.
Just kidding. I still judge people. So maybe judge me for that.
During this visit, I had what I had anticipated would be an all-out battle of a conversation with his pediatrician regarding shots.
SPOILER: My mom gut freaked out at 6 months and told me in no uncertain terms that Cade was not to have anymore shots.
SPOILER #2: It was a really pleasant, positive conversation that just made me love his doctor.
As a 25-yr militant member of the "VACCINATE EVERYONE FOR EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME" club, this was a shock to my brain and spurred months of research on both sides of the aisle for two reasons.
1) I wanted to pinpoint exactly what my fear was, what I anticipated Cade's issue being, and weight the pros and cons.
2) I wanted to assuage that fear, because VACCINATE EVERYONE.
What I found just made me more and more uneasy, I have an idea of what Cade may have experienced, and my fear was fueled.
So at least for this child of mine, there won't be any.
The doctor asked if I'd like to discuss why I was opting out of future vaccinations, and I laid that previous information down for him followed by, "Trust me, man. It freaks even me out because like I said - I used to be that person who would argue with moms on the internet who chose not to vaccinate their kids, call them stupid, and then walk away feeling morally superior."
"You know there's better ways to feel morally superior, right?" He said.
I realize this was his good-humored attempt at participating in the de-escalation of a potentially scary moment for me as I was asserting my newly-arrived mama bear and I appreciate it.
He continued with, "You know, I'm a huge believer in parent instinct. I've had several experiences where moms have come in demanding that I test for crazy diseases and I've told them they are wrong - only to do the testing and it turns out they were absolutely right. So there's a lot to be said for Mom Gut and I don't question it. I would hate to give him a shot and have him experience something adverse and then go, "Oh, yeah, that's probably why we shouldn't have done that." And I honestly believe you're doing what you think is best for your child, however, in the outbreak of an MMR illness I would strongly recommend that you reconsider that single vaccine."
And that was it.
So, yeah. Judge me, I don't care - I believe that vaccines have saved a lot of lives and work perfectly well for so many people. I also believe that there have been an unrecorded number of vaccine-related life altering changes and illness in kids, and a whole host of things that still need to be tested, and I just CAN'T give my kid vaccines. At least not right now. So judge me on that front, and also feel free to judge my previously judgy nature.
Just kidding. I still judge people. So maybe judge me for that.
Wednesday, October 11, 2017
What is motherhood, really?
As the first year of my son's life is rapidly turning into the start of his second, I've been reflecting a lot on what it was that I had "thought" motherhood was. When you're waiting to have kids, you feel an intense and all-encompassing yearning for something you haven't experienced but feel so deeply in your bones that you need. How is that possible? How do you "miss" something you haven't had?
I've tried to remember how I used to define motherhood and it blows my own mind how far off I was.
Let me explain.
I think it's something akin to nostalgia- where you can truly only have a hazy, sweet glimpse of something. Of course, I pictured the sweet new baby snuggles, the nighttime waking, the first steps and the adorable mini soccer games. I pictured clapping as he took his first steps, proudly showing him off wherever I went, holidays FINALLY holding some extra excitement again. I pictured family vacations, feeling like I "fit in" at church, identifying so hard as a "mom".
But it's all the things I couldn't possibly have anticipated that is the essence of motherhood.
It's the walking-out-of-the-hospital and climbing into your car with your brand-new baby, all of a sudden panicking that your postpartum nurse Violate is standing at the door waving goodbye and not climbing in the car with you.
It's standing over that same baby watching him breathe for 15 minutes, and then calling your mom to make sure his breath patterns are normal.
It's trying so hard to be brave when you feel anything but, because you need your baby to know it's okay (I'm looking at you, circumcision).
It's so, so, so many more night wakings than you could have counted and being ridiculously desperate for some sleep, but holding on and cuddling a few minutes longer because you can actually see him growing and changing. You can feel more brain cells dying with each moment that you should be sleeping, but those cuddles, man. They're worth more than anything.
It's realizing how self-righteous and just plain WRONG you were about everything you thought you'd never do before having kids.
It's making naptime a sacred event, one that if interrupted, sends you into a genuine rage at the offending party.
It's the unexpected mama bear that comes roaring out of your mouth when someone commits a seemingly innocuous offense, such as not using hand sanitizer before holding your baby. Like you will really wonder where that has been hiding all your life.
It's feeling around behind you while driving down the road, to make sure your baby's head hasn't flopped forward in the carseat.
It's being incredibly proud and profoundly heartbroken with each milestone and achievement - holding his head up on his own, shaking a rattle, sitting up, shutting that door that pops open on his toy.
It's laundry. So much laundry.
It's questioning every parenting decision you ever make and constantly wondering if it was the right one.
It's never wanting to leave that baby with ANYONE because nobody could possibly love him and care for him and understand him like you - and feeling terrible when you do.
It's setting up a sleepover in the living room because your baby is sick, and he needs you, and you don't know what else to do.
It's doing more during a 1.5 hour period of sleeping child than almost seems humanly possible.
It's making silly noises and dancing like an idiot JUST to get a laugh and a smile.
It's looking inside yourself and trying to figure out what YOU need to improve so that your child can be a better person than you.
It's begging for the rarest and sloppiest open-mouth kiss in the world.
It's the anxiety for somebody else's well being that can send you in to a full-on panic attack.
It's getting in bed at the end of the day, and then getting out of bed 5 more times to make sure he's warm and okay in his crib. And then maybe you'll do it a few more times just for good measure.
This is motherhood. This beautiful, messy, scary, incredible thing.
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
Efficiency and How I Use It
DISCLAIMER:
I don't want to hear anything along the lines of, "Girl, if you think life is hard now just wait til ______." Seriously. I don't.
Moving on.
I have felt like a pretty hollow shell of my former self since Cade stopped sleeping through the night at 6 months and the past few weeks I have been pretty desperate to climb out of survival mode and feel like I'm doing well at wearing my different hats. I've done my best to make adjustments where possible to maximize my time and impact with each and yet most days I just don't feel like it's enough.
To mitigate this, I've gone on an all-out quest to find ways to make life simpler and make the absolute most of each minute. The best way I can explain how my head works is that it's a very busy place - I'm ALWAYS thinking about what I need to be doing, what comes next, what I could have done better on what I was doing 5 minutes ago. I swear I spend more time analyzing than doing and that's something I'm trying to change.
ANYWAYS.
Here's a few things I've found that have helped me feel a little better about momming and wifeing and working and schooling(sometimes) and churching. And I hope it's helpful to someone else- and if you have judgement-free tips, please send them my way.
1) Never leave a room empty handed. When there's a kid crying, it's almost like nothing else exists and I stop what I'm doing and run right to Cade. I've learned that he can wait a sec- and I can finish what I'm doing. If I'm downstairs and he wakes up from his nap, on my way up to get him I'll grab a pile of folded laundry and bring it up with me. If it's time to make lunch, I'll grab Cade, the dirty clothes hamper or soap to refill the pump and head downstairs. For some reason, getting rid of extra trips to different levels of the house has been crazy helpful.
2) Clean while he eats. Each morning, I make/give Cade breakfast - which he probably won't eat - and do the dishes and fold laundry while he's keeping himself busy feeding the dog (just keeping it real). This way, I start the day with a clean main level and the whole house feels so much better.
3) Shower at night - I'm iffy on this one, because I prefer to start the day with a shower, but it really makes a difference on hairwash days - this way I can just curl or whatever in the morning rather than spend a half hour blow-drying (which I won't do, again, just being real).
4) Dry shampoo - I was frumpy - and still am sometimes - simply due to the fact that I have an actual crapton of hair and it takes FOREVER to curl or straighten it. So I invested in dry shampoo and now regularly go 3-4 days between washes and the result has been that I don't look like an old hag 7 days a week.
5) Making extra or making ahead. I have been doing some research lately about additives, preservatives, and other chemicals in our food and it has made me ridiculously skeptical about everything we eat. At the very least, I try to buy non-gmo (WHICH I KNOW DOESN'T TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING) and buy organic when it makes the most sense. I also try to make from scratch everything that isn't a vegetable or meat - so sauces, breads, buns, desserts, etc to keep those things at a minimum. I've started doubling batches of things - rolls, hoagie buns, tortillas, etc - and freezing so that the next time I need them I can just pull a bag out of the freezer. Today, while Cade was playing in the kitchen and feeding the dog grilled cheese, I prepped/cooked 4 different meals so that the rest of the week isn't so hectic.
6) Multi-task in weird ways. I have a leg/butt routine that I do when I'm putting on my makeup, brushing my teeth, or cooking. Mostly squats, leg lifts, calf raises, and a few barre exercises. It's obviously not a high-impact workout, but it's something, and it helps me feel a little better about myself. I don't fit back into my pre-preg pants or anything, but my legs are somewhat toned.
7) Work on my own hours. I do try really hard to make myself available during bankers hours, but the reality is that Cade is almost always awake, he is my first priority, and does require a lot of attention right now. If he naps, I'll work, but other than that, I get my very best and most thorough work done between the hours of 7:30 and 10 at night when Jeff is here to keep him busy.
8) Make naptime sacred. I do whatever I need to do to get Cade down for a nap - we usually try to get out of the house and go to the park in the mornings, or run errands to keep him stimulated. We play, play, play, and then by naptime, he's pretty tuckered. If he's not going down easy, I will absolutely put him in the car and go for a 15 minute drive and hope for a successful car-to-crib transfer. These usually result in his best and longest naps. So, DO WHAT YOU GOTTA FOR NAPTIME
I don't want to hear anything along the lines of, "Girl, if you think life is hard now just wait til ______." Seriously. I don't.
Moving on.
I have felt like a pretty hollow shell of my former self since Cade stopped sleeping through the night at 6 months and the past few weeks I have been pretty desperate to climb out of survival mode and feel like I'm doing well at wearing my different hats. I've done my best to make adjustments where possible to maximize my time and impact with each and yet most days I just don't feel like it's enough.
To mitigate this, I've gone on an all-out quest to find ways to make life simpler and make the absolute most of each minute. The best way I can explain how my head works is that it's a very busy place - I'm ALWAYS thinking about what I need to be doing, what comes next, what I could have done better on what I was doing 5 minutes ago. I swear I spend more time analyzing than doing and that's something I'm trying to change.
ANYWAYS.
Here's a few things I've found that have helped me feel a little better about momming and wifeing and working and schooling(sometimes) and churching. And I hope it's helpful to someone else- and if you have judgement-free tips, please send them my way.
1) Never leave a room empty handed. When there's a kid crying, it's almost like nothing else exists and I stop what I'm doing and run right to Cade. I've learned that he can wait a sec- and I can finish what I'm doing. If I'm downstairs and he wakes up from his nap, on my way up to get him I'll grab a pile of folded laundry and bring it up with me. If it's time to make lunch, I'll grab Cade, the dirty clothes hamper or soap to refill the pump and head downstairs. For some reason, getting rid of extra trips to different levels of the house has been crazy helpful.
2) Clean while he eats. Each morning, I make/give Cade breakfast - which he probably won't eat - and do the dishes and fold laundry while he's keeping himself busy feeding the dog (just keeping it real). This way, I start the day with a clean main level and the whole house feels so much better.
3) Shower at night - I'm iffy on this one, because I prefer to start the day with a shower, but it really makes a difference on hairwash days - this way I can just curl or whatever in the morning rather than spend a half hour blow-drying (which I won't do, again, just being real).
4) Dry shampoo - I was frumpy - and still am sometimes - simply due to the fact that I have an actual crapton of hair and it takes FOREVER to curl or straighten it. So I invested in dry shampoo and now regularly go 3-4 days between washes and the result has been that I don't look like an old hag 7 days a week.
5) Making extra or making ahead. I have been doing some research lately about additives, preservatives, and other chemicals in our food and it has made me ridiculously skeptical about everything we eat. At the very least, I try to buy non-gmo (WHICH I KNOW DOESN'T TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING) and buy organic when it makes the most sense. I also try to make from scratch everything that isn't a vegetable or meat - so sauces, breads, buns, desserts, etc to keep those things at a minimum. I've started doubling batches of things - rolls, hoagie buns, tortillas, etc - and freezing so that the next time I need them I can just pull a bag out of the freezer. Today, while Cade was playing in the kitchen and feeding the dog grilled cheese, I prepped/cooked 4 different meals so that the rest of the week isn't so hectic.
6) Multi-task in weird ways. I have a leg/butt routine that I do when I'm putting on my makeup, brushing my teeth, or cooking. Mostly squats, leg lifts, calf raises, and a few barre exercises. It's obviously not a high-impact workout, but it's something, and it helps me feel a little better about myself. I don't fit back into my pre-preg pants or anything, but my legs are somewhat toned.
7) Work on my own hours. I do try really hard to make myself available during bankers hours, but the reality is that Cade is almost always awake, he is my first priority, and does require a lot of attention right now. If he naps, I'll work, but other than that, I get my very best and most thorough work done between the hours of 7:30 and 10 at night when Jeff is here to keep him busy.
8) Make naptime sacred. I do whatever I need to do to get Cade down for a nap - we usually try to get out of the house and go to the park in the mornings, or run errands to keep him stimulated. We play, play, play, and then by naptime, he's pretty tuckered. If he's not going down easy, I will absolutely put him in the car and go for a 15 minute drive and hope for a successful car-to-crib transfer. These usually result in his best and longest naps. So, DO WHAT YOU GOTTA FOR NAPTIME
Thursday, September 21, 2017
On Baby Number 2
Pretty much since before we even physically had Cade, we had been discussing how/when we will pursue having a second child. Our plan had been all over the place - before he was born, we would go back in January of 2018, then up until he was 10 months old we planned to go back in October 2017, and we began financially preparing from the moment we had Cade. As with all plans, they change. One day, on the way home from family dinner, we had a pretty deep discussion. I had planned to have Cade weaned by his 1 year birthday so that my body could get back to baseline, what I feel is best when having an embryo transfer. I began that process at 9 months only to find that once he began cutting his top teeth, he completely reversed his previous enthusiasm for solid food and went back to almost exclusively breastfeeding.
Well, that wouldn't work.
The doctor says that by 12 months he should be getting almost all of his nutrition from solids, but as with sleep training, the modern philosophies have proven contrary to everything my mother heart believes and hasn't at all been the case for Cade. I can put anything in front of him, and he'll take a couple bites and then refuse. Except for raspberries - and he could eat a whole case in a single sitting. Because of this, he still nurses every 2-4 hours and usually twice at night. He's still fat and happy and almost always game to try one bite of anything, but I can clearly see that he's getting most of his nutrition from me.
So we had this discussion and found that we both were completely on the same page. We don't feel that it would be fair to Cade to force him to stop when he's clearly not ready and depends on nursing for so much of his nutrition. It's also a comfort thing for him. We decided to re-evaluate at the beginning of next year and see a) how Cade is doing, b) how we feel about it, and c) maybe hope that it's happened naturally. I don't want to look back in 10 years and regret that I pushed my first baby to grow up just so that I could have another.
Baby Number 2 is still very much on our minds, and I feel like there's a little girl who wants to come down to be with us. Hopefully we'll get to meet her next year. For now, we're focusing on loving this sweet little boy of ours and help him transition at his own pace from infant to toddler.
Well, that wouldn't work.
The doctor says that by 12 months he should be getting almost all of his nutrition from solids, but as with sleep training, the modern philosophies have proven contrary to everything my mother heart believes and hasn't at all been the case for Cade. I can put anything in front of him, and he'll take a couple bites and then refuse. Except for raspberries - and he could eat a whole case in a single sitting. Because of this, he still nurses every 2-4 hours and usually twice at night. He's still fat and happy and almost always game to try one bite of anything, but I can clearly see that he's getting most of his nutrition from me.
So we had this discussion and found that we both were completely on the same page. We don't feel that it would be fair to Cade to force him to stop when he's clearly not ready and depends on nursing for so much of his nutrition. It's also a comfort thing for him. We decided to re-evaluate at the beginning of next year and see a) how Cade is doing, b) how we feel about it, and c) maybe hope that it's happened naturally. I don't want to look back in 10 years and regret that I pushed my first baby to grow up just so that I could have another.
Baby Number 2 is still very much on our minds, and I feel like there's a little girl who wants to come down to be with us. Hopefully we'll get to meet her next year. For now, we're focusing on loving this sweet little boy of ours and help him transition at his own pace from infant to toddler.
Monday, September 11, 2017
Renegade the Labraheeler: 8/15/2013- 9/7/2017
This post is mostly for therapy. Anyone who knows me well knows that Renegade drove me to the absolute edge of insanity 50% of the time. He had the weirdest habits including but not limited to: staring at spots of light on the wall for hours at a time, chasing his tail, not eating until he was vomiting bile, barking incessantly at ANYTHING that moved, stealing defrosting meat off the counter at any opportunity, eating garbage, and falling asleep in places such as closet shelves, behind the couch, and on our shoes in the closet. In the summer, he would be so busy being excited about life that he would lose 5-7 lbs and be skin and bones because he was just TOO busy to take a break and eat.
That, combined with his penchant for attacking the TV everytime there was an animal, roughousing with Nala every evening, and a primal urge to attack and destroy every other 4-legged creature we saw outside the house made him a challenge.
Last Thursday, though, he went a little too far. He's gotten aggressive when we've had to take things away before (see defrosting meat in previous paragraph) and snapped or growled. This time, after killing the neighbor's pet duck, Jeff went to take it away and Renegade had a fit. Growling, barking, lunging, and snapping at Jeff until Jeff kicked his side. That was it. I heard it and ran out because I was worried he was attacking our other dog - but no, it was Jeff. I knew we had to get him out of the house and immediately began researching some shelters. He's a challenge, for sure - but I wanted him to have the best chance at a good life with someone who had knowledge and resources we did not. We had tried everything we could think of to curb those behaviors and establish an alpha - dominating, removing privileges, timeouts, you name it. Nothing had helped and some of those issues had been getting markedly worse over the last couple years.
To my dismay, none of the shelters I could find were excited about receiving an aggressive dog with known biting issues and the ones I did find would likely put him down.
It hit me like a ton of bricks that we had to put him down. I couldn't rehome him - because if I was afraid of him hurting my son, I couldn't live with myself if he hurt somebody else's babies.
I called the vet and made the appointment and after a text conversation with Jeff (who was at work), I told him, "He has an appointment to go to sleep at 3. If you don't tell me otherwise, I will go be with him."
He said, "Ok."
It was the longest day of my life and I ugly cried through most of it. Why, if he was so annoying and difficult, was I so sad? I'm sure that's something most of my family and friends have wondered.
It's because I picked him out of hundreds of craigslist ads from a lonely hotel room in San Antonio after moving a thousand miles away from home and trying for a baby for several months. I had started to figure out that having kids was going to take longer than we thought, I didn't have a job, friends, or family to occupy myself with, and I needed something to nurture and have with me in my new home.
When I saw his picture, I fell in love. He had a spunky little expression and was this tiny, skinny, spotted puppy sitting on a couch. Done. I had to have him. After a little finagling, I went to get him and spent his first two days in a hotel room. He became the baby I so badly wanted (no, I'm not equating having dogs with kids but a dog was the very closest approximation I could reach at the time) and I took him on walks, and runs, and got up with him several times a night, cooked him meals when his poor little digestive system couldn't handle dog food for the first month and loved him. He was my baby and for the first three years of his life, went on runs, car rides, store trips, road trips, and family vacations us. He had an enthusiasm for life that I've not seen matched by any other person or animal and an almost tangible appreciation for simple things - a blanket, a nap on the porch on the first warm days in spring, a car ride sitting in the front seat.
When I was pregnant, he assumed the role of guard dog and followed me around everywhere. Anyone, even my mom who he loved, got a friendly warning if he felt they got too close to me. He protected our home and family like his life depended on it from anything - even garbage trucks.
All that said, the hours leading up to his appointment were the longest and most awful and I don't say that to be dramatic. I knew full well I was going to end a young, healthy life for a reason that might not exist if I had been better trained at handling dogs, or if someone else had taken him home that day. I knew that by having a human baby, I had forever altered his place in our family and would never not put my child ahead of the dog that carried me through those years of heartache and loneliness. I felt like I was taking the easy way out and discarding him. And that felt terrible.
I don't want to talk about the actual event because it was traumatic but I will just say that he knew what was happening and he fought with everything he had. That was the worst thing ever and holding him down and crying into his neck were among the most painful moments of my life.
I prayed to know if I was doing the right thing and seemingly didn't have an answer right up until 20 minutes before the appointment. I had been trying to figure out how to take Cade with me and also give Renegade my attention and love and was stressing out until my sister - who left work and showed up unexpectedly rang my door bell. A few minutes behind her, my mother-in-law had dropped everything and made it to my house in record time when hearing that Jeff was at work and couldn't be with us. I had someone to watch Cade, and someone to be with me and that was the confirmation that I needed. I prayed that Renegade would go quickly and be greeted on the other side with a life that he deserved and off we went.
I miss that dog in the weirdest moments, like vacuuming and realizing I'm only going to be cleaning up half the fur. Coming home from errands and listening to him "talk" to us. Seeing him lean around the corner and bark and run away when he wants to show us something. Him laying by my feet when winding down at night. I just miss him. The house is really quiet now.
Anyways, this is my tribute to the dog that I hope to see again someday. I really hope all dogs go to heaven and I hope I get to have him with us when we get up there.
That, combined with his penchant for attacking the TV everytime there was an animal, roughousing with Nala every evening, and a primal urge to attack and destroy every other 4-legged creature we saw outside the house made him a challenge.
Last Thursday, though, he went a little too far. He's gotten aggressive when we've had to take things away before (see defrosting meat in previous paragraph) and snapped or growled. This time, after killing the neighbor's pet duck, Jeff went to take it away and Renegade had a fit. Growling, barking, lunging, and snapping at Jeff until Jeff kicked his side. That was it. I heard it and ran out because I was worried he was attacking our other dog - but no, it was Jeff. I knew we had to get him out of the house and immediately began researching some shelters. He's a challenge, for sure - but I wanted him to have the best chance at a good life with someone who had knowledge and resources we did not. We had tried everything we could think of to curb those behaviors and establish an alpha - dominating, removing privileges, timeouts, you name it. Nothing had helped and some of those issues had been getting markedly worse over the last couple years.
To my dismay, none of the shelters I could find were excited about receiving an aggressive dog with known biting issues and the ones I did find would likely put him down.
It hit me like a ton of bricks that we had to put him down. I couldn't rehome him - because if I was afraid of him hurting my son, I couldn't live with myself if he hurt somebody else's babies.
I called the vet and made the appointment and after a text conversation with Jeff (who was at work), I told him, "He has an appointment to go to sleep at 3. If you don't tell me otherwise, I will go be with him."
He said, "Ok."
It was the longest day of my life and I ugly cried through most of it. Why, if he was so annoying and difficult, was I so sad? I'm sure that's something most of my family and friends have wondered.
It's because I picked him out of hundreds of craigslist ads from a lonely hotel room in San Antonio after moving a thousand miles away from home and trying for a baby for several months. I had started to figure out that having kids was going to take longer than we thought, I didn't have a job, friends, or family to occupy myself with, and I needed something to nurture and have with me in my new home.
When I saw his picture, I fell in love. He had a spunky little expression and was this tiny, skinny, spotted puppy sitting on a couch. Done. I had to have him. After a little finagling, I went to get him and spent his first two days in a hotel room. He became the baby I so badly wanted (no, I'm not equating having dogs with kids but a dog was the very closest approximation I could reach at the time) and I took him on walks, and runs, and got up with him several times a night, cooked him meals when his poor little digestive system couldn't handle dog food for the first month and loved him. He was my baby and for the first three years of his life, went on runs, car rides, store trips, road trips, and family vacations us. He had an enthusiasm for life that I've not seen matched by any other person or animal and an almost tangible appreciation for simple things - a blanket, a nap on the porch on the first warm days in spring, a car ride sitting in the front seat.
When I was pregnant, he assumed the role of guard dog and followed me around everywhere. Anyone, even my mom who he loved, got a friendly warning if he felt they got too close to me. He protected our home and family like his life depended on it from anything - even garbage trucks.
All that said, the hours leading up to his appointment were the longest and most awful and I don't say that to be dramatic. I knew full well I was going to end a young, healthy life for a reason that might not exist if I had been better trained at handling dogs, or if someone else had taken him home that day. I knew that by having a human baby, I had forever altered his place in our family and would never not put my child ahead of the dog that carried me through those years of heartache and loneliness. I felt like I was taking the easy way out and discarding him. And that felt terrible.
I don't want to talk about the actual event because it was traumatic but I will just say that he knew what was happening and he fought with everything he had. That was the worst thing ever and holding him down and crying into his neck were among the most painful moments of my life.
I prayed to know if I was doing the right thing and seemingly didn't have an answer right up until 20 minutes before the appointment. I had been trying to figure out how to take Cade with me and also give Renegade my attention and love and was stressing out until my sister - who left work and showed up unexpectedly rang my door bell. A few minutes behind her, my mother-in-law had dropped everything and made it to my house in record time when hearing that Jeff was at work and couldn't be with us. I had someone to watch Cade, and someone to be with me and that was the confirmation that I needed. I prayed that Renegade would go quickly and be greeted on the other side with a life that he deserved and off we went.
I miss that dog in the weirdest moments, like vacuuming and realizing I'm only going to be cleaning up half the fur. Coming home from errands and listening to him "talk" to us. Seeing him lean around the corner and bark and run away when he wants to show us something. Him laying by my feet when winding down at night. I just miss him. The house is really quiet now.
Anyways, this is my tribute to the dog that I hope to see again someday. I really hope all dogs go to heaven and I hope I get to have him with us when we get up there.
Monday, August 28, 2017
The Boy Who Was Afraid to Sleep
This post is the product of several months of questioning myself as a mother, but also being deeply resolved in the belief that I know my son's disposition better than anyone else. It's a weird place to be. Also from an experience of loneliness, of sorts, because I couldn't find a single person in real life who was experiencing the same thing we were.
Background, intro, etc: I love Cade to itty, bitty, tiny pieces. He's perfect and I adore him and he makes me happier than I thought possible. There is one thing I've learned about him, and it made me feel like a failure first-timer newb too until this weekend and it is this:
My son is afraid to sleep. Or has some serious FOMO. I'm not sure. In any case, he has struggled with sleep since was a brand new baby. Napping was not his game. Sometimes we have a day or two where he takes REAL GOOD naps and I'm like, aw yes- I've made it. I've taught my child to sleep.
And then the next day hits and I'm like, Okay. Kidding. Nope.
And night time? He was on a pretty consistent wake schedule from a month old. Up every 3 hours, then we'd get a six hour and a four hour stretch, and then by 4 months he was down at 8:30, dream feed at 10, and then would sleep til 6. It was amazing and I felt like the most rockstar parent in the world.
Then 6 months hit and our world turned upside down. Separation anxiety is real. The minute he figured out that we existed and were currently existing somewhere other than right next to him he forgot how to sleep. We average 2-4 night wakings, almost never less but very often in the 5-7 times a night range.
All you moms who are reading this and thinking, "She doesn't know what she's doing. I've taught all of my kids to sleep and if he was mine we'd have nipped that in the bud and have him back to sleeping through in a week" are funny. Maybe you could, I don't know. The list of things I've tried is impressively long.
We have:
- Done controlled crying where I sit next to his crib so he knows he's not alone.
- Done cry-it-out. For a week. For bed time, for night wakings. Let me tell you - my son will cry from the minute the sun goes down til it comes right back up again.
- Tried to bring back the cluster feed (it's not a "he's hungry" issue. Have you seen my boy? He's a chunk).
- Kept a consistent routine. Every night - it's dinner, bath, walk, play, feed, bed. He's able to put himself to sleep between 8-9.
- Fed him closer to bedtime
- Fed him further from bedtime
- Altered the temperature in his room
- Give him a lovey to sleep with
- Try really hard to tire him out during the day
- He decided at 4 months that pacifiers weren't really his thing so no thanks
- Thumbs are not soothing either
It's the most painful thing to listen to your baby inconsolably screaming. After a week of cry-it-out, with him crying longer at the end than at the start, it was pretty clear that this wasn't going to help. Our current routine is to give him a few minutes when he wakes to see if he will work it out (19/20 times this will not happen) and if it escalates to standing up and screaming I'll go get him and hold him for 5-15 minutes til he's calmed down or back to sleep and put him back in bed. I'm not remotely ashamed to admit that on really hard nights I'll take him back to bed with me and let him nurse for comfort for the last hour or two of darkness just to get some shut eye (which is why I'm absolutely terrified of weaning).
This is something I understand and accept about him. He's scared to be alone. He's an extremely light sleeper (got that from his momma) and is a relatively low sleep-need child. I anticipate that once he is able to understand reason we will be able to work through this and hopefully eventually have a sibling he can share a room with so that he doesn't feel so scared when he wakes at night. Until then, we have an abundance of late-night cuddles, I'm SO UNBELIEVABLY GRATEFUL for the blessing of comfort nursing (I don't care that he's 10 months old, you do what you gotta to be able to function during the day and I will continue for as long as he nurses).
He's also a really alert, active, happy kid - so I figure he's doing just fine.
My message to ANYONE on the interwebs who is frantically searching for the right answer and the way to turn this around and feeling lonely: I don't have the answer for you - but stop reading the google articles that tell you you're going to cause your child to have x/y/z behavioral issues or stunted intelligence. Some kids need more sleep. Some need less. Some need a little more help at night. If you've got one of those too, we can be virtual besties at 12, 2, 3:15, 4:30, 5:45 and whatever other times our kids wake up.
Deal? Deal.
Background, intro, etc: I love Cade to itty, bitty, tiny pieces. He's perfect and I adore him and he makes me happier than I thought possible. There is one thing I've learned about him, and it made me feel like a failure first-timer newb too until this weekend and it is this:
My son is afraid to sleep. Or has some serious FOMO. I'm not sure. In any case, he has struggled with sleep since was a brand new baby. Napping was not his game. Sometimes we have a day or two where he takes REAL GOOD naps and I'm like, aw yes- I've made it. I've taught my child to sleep.
And then the next day hits and I'm like, Okay. Kidding. Nope.
And night time? He was on a pretty consistent wake schedule from a month old. Up every 3 hours, then we'd get a six hour and a four hour stretch, and then by 4 months he was down at 8:30, dream feed at 10, and then would sleep til 6. It was amazing and I felt like the most rockstar parent in the world.
Then 6 months hit and our world turned upside down. Separation anxiety is real. The minute he figured out that we existed and were currently existing somewhere other than right next to him he forgot how to sleep. We average 2-4 night wakings, almost never less but very often in the 5-7 times a night range.
All you moms who are reading this and thinking, "She doesn't know what she's doing. I've taught all of my kids to sleep and if he was mine we'd have nipped that in the bud and have him back to sleeping through in a week" are funny. Maybe you could, I don't know. The list of things I've tried is impressively long.
We have:
- Done controlled crying where I sit next to his crib so he knows he's not alone.
- Done cry-it-out. For a week. For bed time, for night wakings. Let me tell you - my son will cry from the minute the sun goes down til it comes right back up again.
- Tried to bring back the cluster feed (it's not a "he's hungry" issue. Have you seen my boy? He's a chunk).
- Kept a consistent routine. Every night - it's dinner, bath, walk, play, feed, bed. He's able to put himself to sleep between 8-9.
- Fed him closer to bedtime
- Fed him further from bedtime
- Altered the temperature in his room
- Give him a lovey to sleep with
- Try really hard to tire him out during the day
- He decided at 4 months that pacifiers weren't really his thing so no thanks
- Thumbs are not soothing either
It's the most painful thing to listen to your baby inconsolably screaming. After a week of cry-it-out, with him crying longer at the end than at the start, it was pretty clear that this wasn't going to help. Our current routine is to give him a few minutes when he wakes to see if he will work it out (19/20 times this will not happen) and if it escalates to standing up and screaming I'll go get him and hold him for 5-15 minutes til he's calmed down or back to sleep and put him back in bed. I'm not remotely ashamed to admit that on really hard nights I'll take him back to bed with me and let him nurse for comfort for the last hour or two of darkness just to get some shut eye (which is why I'm absolutely terrified of weaning).
This is something I understand and accept about him. He's scared to be alone. He's an extremely light sleeper (got that from his momma) and is a relatively low sleep-need child. I anticipate that once he is able to understand reason we will be able to work through this and hopefully eventually have a sibling he can share a room with so that he doesn't feel so scared when he wakes at night. Until then, we have an abundance of late-night cuddles, I'm SO UNBELIEVABLY GRATEFUL for the blessing of comfort nursing (I don't care that he's 10 months old, you do what you gotta to be able to function during the day and I will continue for as long as he nurses).
He's also a really alert, active, happy kid - so I figure he's doing just fine.
My message to ANYONE on the interwebs who is frantically searching for the right answer and the way to turn this around and feeling lonely: I don't have the answer for you - but stop reading the google articles that tell you you're going to cause your child to have x/y/z behavioral issues or stunted intelligence. Some kids need more sleep. Some need less. Some need a little more help at night. If you've got one of those too, we can be virtual besties at 12, 2, 3:15, 4:30, 5:45 and whatever other times our kids wake up.
Deal? Deal.
Saturday, April 29, 2017
My Motherhood
With Mothers Day just around the corner, I can't help but think constantly about this thing called Motherhood.
For three long years - and the three years before that, just waiting for the right time to "pull the goalie", as it were- it felt so far away. Sometimes completely unobtainable. I remember in vivid detail the first Mothers Day after a year of "trying" and a few short weeks after hearing medical confirmation of the issues we were facing coupled with the phrase, "It's likely going to be very difficult for you to get pregnant." Jeff had been asked to speak in church on that day. I was so, so angry - why did it seem like a good idea to ask the childless couple to speak on a day dedicated to parenthood? In truth, they had no idea what we were facing or just how raw and painful the topic of motherhood was at that point in time.
When the day came, I sat in the very back pew by myself because I knew it would be a difficult hour. I made it through the first speaker, and just felt disgruntled. I could do disgruntled.
Then it was Jeff's turn. He wrote a beautiful talk, and spoke a lot about the sanctity of motherhood and shared a lot of wonderful stories of the sacrifices his mom made for him. Slowly but steadily, the loneliness and grief and feelings of inadequacy worked their way to the surface. What kind of woman can't give her husband a kid? Isn't that the whole purpose of life? All I could do was keep my head down and try not to cry. I prayed to be able to keep it together.
I couldn't. By the time the third and final speaker stood up, I was an ugly-crying, sobbing wreck and walked outside. It literally could not be contained. Feelings are not something I deal with often - it's not that I don't have them, they are just secondary to the doing part of life, so when I feel something strong enough to the point of crying, there's no stopping and it certainly isn't for lack of want or trying. I was so embarrassed and even angrier - I couldn't get pregnant, and now I was making an absolute fool of myself. In public. AND Jeff had the car keys so I was stuck. I will never forget the sweet acquaintance - who soon became the best friend I have ever had- who took it upon herself to walk over and just let me be angry and sad and didn't try and tell me it would be okay. Because at that moment, it wasn't. As soon as sacrament meeting was over, I walked in to catch Jeff on his way out of the chapel and asked if we could please go home. There are so many worse trials in life than this and I'm completely aware of how melodramatic this sounds, but the best way I can describe how that day felt was agony.
Fast forward three years later and my train of thought is one of extreme gratitude. The beautiful little boy who has finally physically joined our family is a gorgeous, pure slice of heavenly perfection. The weeks following his birth felt sacred. There is nothing sweeter than welcoming a new, pure little spirit to your home - and the personal transformation that inspired is nothing short of amazing and something I will forever be grateful for. There aren't words to describe strongly enough what it means to me, but the closest I can find are these: This is *everything* to me. Wiping food off a dirty, smiling face. Listening to high-pitched squeals and caveman grunts while he figures out how fingers and toes work. Reaching out and catching a little head as he launches himself backwards when he is tired of sitting, completely trusting that *someone* will be there to break his fall. Sweet snuggles, sometimes at odd hours of the night. A little hand, reaching up to twirl my hair while he is nursing. Teaching him how to do the most basic things - sit, roll over, sip on a straw. Watching and cheering on as he achieves each new milestone, simultaneously so proud I could burst and feeling a little bit of heartbreak as he gets bigger and braver.
I'm not a perfect person - so, so far from perfect. But if anything or anyone could inspire me to try my hardest to be that way someday, it is having a little tiny face looking up at me watching, hearing, learning, absorbing, everything that I do.
So, I'm grateful. Thank you, baby Cade, for coming to our family and giving me a piece of myself that I couldn't find any other way.
Saturday, February 4, 2017
Labor and birth: The Whole Truth and NOTHING but the Truth
Part 2: Labor and Birth.
I mean it when I say this post is about a 12 on a 1-10 scale of TMI, so probably only read on if you've had a baby, or are going to have a baby and want to know what to truly expect during labor, delivery, and your first week postpartum.
LABOR:
Going into labor: They always say, "OH. You will KNOW when you're in labor."
Not necessarily true.
I went into labor about 7:30 PM the night before I had Cade and didn't know/believe it. The contractions were painful, but not painful to the point that I felt like dying and couldn't talk through them. Even when they were 5 minutes apart, I wasn't in the drop-to-the-ground pain that people talk about or show you in the movies. If you're in doubt, call your mom, or call a friend. Don't call labor and delivery who will tell you, "Hon, is this your first? Call back when you can't talk through them."
Your water breaking: Again, to those who say, "OH. You will KNOW when your water breaks."
NO.
My water broke 3.5 days before Cade was born. I figured that occasional trickle of pink fluid was just another pregnancy oddity. So, if you feel like things coming out of you shouldn't be coming out of you, go get checked anyways. That amniotic sack is the only barrier between your baby and the germy outside world, so being too long inside a ruptured sack can be dangerous for both of you.
Triggering Labor: I'm now a believer in old wives tails. My water was broken with some *ahem* spousal assistance. If doing the nasty feels like painful punches to the cervix, probably stop unless you're ready to go into labor. Jus' sayin'.
Getting to the hospital: If you're not dropping to the ground and moaning with every contraction, they probably won't take you seriously. So maybe lay on the ritz a little with that part.
Pitocin: I'm a fan. That stuff kicks your contractions up like you wouldn't believe, so just know that ahead of time.
Epidural: Probably the 2nd worst part. Holding perfectly still during contractions isn't fun for anyone, you or the support person holding your hands. Feeling a needle digging around in your spinal column also doesn't feel great. And also, it doesn't always take immediate effect. It might get one side nice and numb, but you might have to roll around for a decent while before it gets the other side.
THE BUTTON: There's a button that you can push that kicks up the meds. Wait til it's real. If you don't know when it's "real", ask the nurse.
OF NOTE: There is fentanyl in the epidural, which is an opioid. This means it will mess with your head. The only thing that has made me question whether I could have done it without the epidural is that the entire hour after Cade's birth is extremely fuzzy in my mind and there are parts that I don't remember - including doing skin to skin with him. That part is very sad for me. So just know that going in. Next time, because of this, I will probably try to go natural.
ALSO OF NOTE: You get a catheter when you get an epidural. It's possible that the catheter will mess with you a little and you will pee yourself sometimes. Being honest, here. I've found that this has gotten better with time but I still have some residual pain from the catheter.
DELIVERY
On being "complete". "Complete" means that you are 100% effaced, and 10 cm dilated. Baby is READY to come out. There's a fair chance that even with an epidural you will know exactly when that is. I went from 8 cm to complete in 15 or so minutes but still waited another half hour to ask to be checked. Don't do that. When you know you're ready, tell them. ALSO: It does NOT feel like you "have to poop". It feels like you're ready to push a baby out.
On "the shakes". Apparently this is a thing. Whether it be from pain, from the medicine, or as my nurse explained, "your body isn't sure if you are pregnant or not", get ready for full-body shakes from head to toe. Don't try and stop it, just let it happen, and know that it's normal.
On Pushing: You will do a series of "practice pushes" before they call your doctor. They will gauge your pushing effectiveness but these are no different than "real pushes". They still move your baby and you push the same way. Some women find it very hard to do when they are numb, I felt like it was just doing a massive crunch and it was very intuitive. They may ask you not to push through contractions which will be super not fun if your baby is literally just waiting to be born. Take a deep breath and think about ANYTHING other than pushing. Sometimes pushing will last for hours, other times it will last for minutes. Many women feel this is the most empowering part of the whole birth process.
On an Episiotomy: I felt like my doctor did this because he wanted to hurry the delivery along (this is probably the drawback of a clinic that has doctors on call for delivery but still maintain a full day of clinic hours). The healing from that wasn't fun, and I had stitches from nearly one exit point to the next. It's still pretty tender. If they bring it up, follow your intuition. You may tear anyways, but you may not. Either way, it should be your choice.
It's completely true what people say. Once you're ready to push, you do not care who is in the room, you do not care who sees your nether regions, you just want to get that baby out.
POSTPARTUM RECOVERY
Oh guys. That week or two after is going to be the hardest of your life. Your body is expending all kinds of energy trying to heal wounds inside and out, your milk is coming in, you haven't slept since the 2nd trimester and then there is the very, very real hormone crash.
If you had a vaginal delivery, here are a few things you NEED to have.
PERIBOTTLE: It's a little waterbottle that you use in lieu of toilet paper. This thing is number one.
DERMOPLAST: It's numbing, and cooling, and 2nd ONLY to the peribottle and easing the discomfort.
PAINMEDS: These are up to you. I opted out of percocet because pain meds really mess with my ability to think clearly, remember things, and function like an adult and went with ibuprofen instead. It's really nice to have something that you can take to ease the edge off, because that edge is sharper than any gourmet kitchen knife I will tell you that right now.
SITTING: It sounds counterintuitive, but don't sit on overly soft surfaces if you can help it. The surface will spread, which will cause your stitches to spread and holy balls, you guys. That's just awful.
Just a little PSA: Don't look down there for a while, 'k? It's not good for you.
HORMONE CRASH: You hear of the baby blues, but that's pretty nondescript. I'm sure it looks different for everyone, but a week after Cade was born and I was starting to turn the corner physically, mentally it got crazy hard. Every night for a while there would be this cloud of despair and anxiety that would settle over me and I'd cry for hours because I was sure life would never feel okay again. Eventually it did, about when we started to get stretches of sleep longer than an hour at a time, but sometimes these feelings don't lift. If you find that you feel you're just kind of drowning in these feelings or numb to life, go get help. There's no reason to feel miserable.
NURSING BOOBS: When you're a breastfeeding newbie you will smell like old milk, pretty much all the time, for a couple weeks. Get okay with that. When your milk is coming in and trying to determine exactly how much your baby needs, it's a messy business and your new baby is trying to figure out how to nurse too. A tip: put lanolin on immediately BEFORE nursing and it will help a ton with the pain. The trade off to all of this is that your boobs look pretty amazing right now.
I mean it when I say this post is about a 12 on a 1-10 scale of TMI, so probably only read on if you've had a baby, or are going to have a baby and want to know what to truly expect during labor, delivery, and your first week postpartum.
LABOR:
Going into labor: They always say, "OH. You will KNOW when you're in labor."
Not necessarily true.
I went into labor about 7:30 PM the night before I had Cade and didn't know/believe it. The contractions were painful, but not painful to the point that I felt like dying and couldn't talk through them. Even when they were 5 minutes apart, I wasn't in the drop-to-the-ground pain that people talk about or show you in the movies. If you're in doubt, call your mom, or call a friend. Don't call labor and delivery who will tell you, "Hon, is this your first? Call back when you can't talk through them."
Your water breaking: Again, to those who say, "OH. You will KNOW when your water breaks."
NO.
My water broke 3.5 days before Cade was born. I figured that occasional trickle of pink fluid was just another pregnancy oddity. So, if you feel like things coming out of you shouldn't be coming out of you, go get checked anyways. That amniotic sack is the only barrier between your baby and the germy outside world, so being too long inside a ruptured sack can be dangerous for both of you.
Triggering Labor: I'm now a believer in old wives tails. My water was broken with some *ahem* spousal assistance. If doing the nasty feels like painful punches to the cervix, probably stop unless you're ready to go into labor. Jus' sayin'.
Getting to the hospital: If you're not dropping to the ground and moaning with every contraction, they probably won't take you seriously. So maybe lay on the ritz a little with that part.
Pitocin: I'm a fan. That stuff kicks your contractions up like you wouldn't believe, so just know that ahead of time.
Epidural: Probably the 2nd worst part. Holding perfectly still during contractions isn't fun for anyone, you or the support person holding your hands. Feeling a needle digging around in your spinal column also doesn't feel great. And also, it doesn't always take immediate effect. It might get one side nice and numb, but you might have to roll around for a decent while before it gets the other side.
THE BUTTON: There's a button that you can push that kicks up the meds. Wait til it's real. If you don't know when it's "real", ask the nurse.
OF NOTE: There is fentanyl in the epidural, which is an opioid. This means it will mess with your head. The only thing that has made me question whether I could have done it without the epidural is that the entire hour after Cade's birth is extremely fuzzy in my mind and there are parts that I don't remember - including doing skin to skin with him. That part is very sad for me. So just know that going in. Next time, because of this, I will probably try to go natural.
ALSO OF NOTE: You get a catheter when you get an epidural. It's possible that the catheter will mess with you a little and you will pee yourself sometimes. Being honest, here. I've found that this has gotten better with time but I still have some residual pain from the catheter.
DELIVERY
On being "complete". "Complete" means that you are 100% effaced, and 10 cm dilated. Baby is READY to come out. There's a fair chance that even with an epidural you will know exactly when that is. I went from 8 cm to complete in 15 or so minutes but still waited another half hour to ask to be checked. Don't do that. When you know you're ready, tell them. ALSO: It does NOT feel like you "have to poop". It feels like you're ready to push a baby out.
On "the shakes". Apparently this is a thing. Whether it be from pain, from the medicine, or as my nurse explained, "your body isn't sure if you are pregnant or not", get ready for full-body shakes from head to toe. Don't try and stop it, just let it happen, and know that it's normal.
On Pushing: You will do a series of "practice pushes" before they call your doctor. They will gauge your pushing effectiveness but these are no different than "real pushes". They still move your baby and you push the same way. Some women find it very hard to do when they are numb, I felt like it was just doing a massive crunch and it was very intuitive. They may ask you not to push through contractions which will be super not fun if your baby is literally just waiting to be born. Take a deep breath and think about ANYTHING other than pushing. Sometimes pushing will last for hours, other times it will last for minutes. Many women feel this is the most empowering part of the whole birth process.
On an Episiotomy: I felt like my doctor did this because he wanted to hurry the delivery along (this is probably the drawback of a clinic that has doctors on call for delivery but still maintain a full day of clinic hours). The healing from that wasn't fun, and I had stitches from nearly one exit point to the next. It's still pretty tender. If they bring it up, follow your intuition. You may tear anyways, but you may not. Either way, it should be your choice.
It's completely true what people say. Once you're ready to push, you do not care who is in the room, you do not care who sees your nether regions, you just want to get that baby out.
POSTPARTUM RECOVERY
Oh guys. That week or two after is going to be the hardest of your life. Your body is expending all kinds of energy trying to heal wounds inside and out, your milk is coming in, you haven't slept since the 2nd trimester and then there is the very, very real hormone crash.
If you had a vaginal delivery, here are a few things you NEED to have.
PERIBOTTLE: It's a little waterbottle that you use in lieu of toilet paper. This thing is number one.
DERMOPLAST: It's numbing, and cooling, and 2nd ONLY to the peribottle and easing the discomfort.
PAINMEDS: These are up to you. I opted out of percocet because pain meds really mess with my ability to think clearly, remember things, and function like an adult and went with ibuprofen instead. It's really nice to have something that you can take to ease the edge off, because that edge is sharper than any gourmet kitchen knife I will tell you that right now.
SITTING: It sounds counterintuitive, but don't sit on overly soft surfaces if you can help it. The surface will spread, which will cause your stitches to spread and holy balls, you guys. That's just awful.
Just a little PSA: Don't look down there for a while, 'k? It's not good for you.
HORMONE CRASH: You hear of the baby blues, but that's pretty nondescript. I'm sure it looks different for everyone, but a week after Cade was born and I was starting to turn the corner physically, mentally it got crazy hard. Every night for a while there would be this cloud of despair and anxiety that would settle over me and I'd cry for hours because I was sure life would never feel okay again. Eventually it did, about when we started to get stretches of sleep longer than an hour at a time, but sometimes these feelings don't lift. If you find that you feel you're just kind of drowning in these feelings or numb to life, go get help. There's no reason to feel miserable.
NURSING BOOBS: When you're a breastfeeding newbie you will smell like old milk, pretty much all the time, for a couple weeks. Get okay with that. When your milk is coming in and trying to determine exactly how much your baby needs, it's a messy business and your new baby is trying to figure out how to nurse too. A tip: put lanolin on immediately BEFORE nursing and it will help a ton with the pain. The trade off to all of this is that your boobs look pretty amazing right now.
Cade is 3 months Old
These last 3 months have gone so quickly that my head feels like it may never stop spinning. I can't believe my sweet little boy is already over a 1/4 of the way through his first year but my goodness he is!
At 3 months, Cade:
is 24.5 inches long
Is wearing 3-6 month (getting tight) and 6 month clothing
size 2 diapers
and a recent development - is sleeping through the night! I'm conflicted over this one, as I'm so happy to finally be feeling rested but really missing our late-night cuddle sessions. It's so rewarding to see him growing and thriving but at the same time, hurts my heart that he needs me less.
He's holding his head SO well, loves to be carried around and really, really loves to go on walks. He's happiest in the morning, tends to get fussy in the evenings (but show me a baby who doesn't) and is getting better at putting himself to sleep.
Bathtime is still his personal favorite time of the day, but he loves the attention he gets when we change his diapers.
He likes to make noise and is finally starting to grab and try to hold things - his favorite so far seems to be a little giraffe.
Cade my love, you are by far the best thing to ever happen to us. Happy 3 months baby boy!
At 3 months, Cade:
is 24.5 inches long
Is wearing 3-6 month (getting tight) and 6 month clothing
size 2 diapers
and a recent development - is sleeping through the night! I'm conflicted over this one, as I'm so happy to finally be feeling rested but really missing our late-night cuddle sessions. It's so rewarding to see him growing and thriving but at the same time, hurts my heart that he needs me less.
He's holding his head SO well, loves to be carried around and really, really loves to go on walks. He's happiest in the morning, tends to get fussy in the evenings (but show me a baby who doesn't) and is getting better at putting himself to sleep.
Bathtime is still his personal favorite time of the day, but he loves the attention he gets when we change his diapers.
He likes to make noise and is finally starting to grab and try to hold things - his favorite so far seems to be a little giraffe.
Cade my love, you are by far the best thing to ever happen to us. Happy 3 months baby boy!
Sunday, January 8, 2017
THE WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH: Pregnancy
This is pregnancy in a nutshell. Mostly the stuff nobody talks about much, so you get slapped in the face wondering if it's normal.
It is.
Read on.
THE PARANOIA: Congratulations! You're pregnant! You just got your very first positive test. Two pink lines, a blue criss-cross, or the triumphant "PREGNANT 1-2 WKS", whichever the case may be.
But wait... ONE positive test is not enough. No! You need to see the progression - those lines getting darker, the digital proclaiming an increasing very rough estimate of how many weeks you are. Back to the store you go. You might just get one more pack to take in a couple of days - just to see. OR, you could be like me and spend over $100 on pregnancy tests of every kind over the next two weeks because you NEED to see visual evidence of your pregnancy every single day until your first dating ultrasound. Whichever works.
This is only the start. By the end of your next nine months, your Google history will contain search items like, "I just tripped and landed hard but on my feet is my baby okay" and "Accidentally fell asleep on my right side did I cause my baby a brain injury" and "how many milligrams of caffeine is too many".
THE HUNGER: You will never forget your very first bout of pregnancy hunger. Whatever you're doing, you. will. remember. forever. Mine, I was about 5 weeks pregnant and walking through the dining room when it hit. I need to eat RIGHT NOW or I will die. I will die or pass out or vomit or maybe even all three but not in that order. So I whipped open the pantry door and grabbed the first thing I saw, which was nuts and fruit strips and ate it all. I've never tasted anything better in my life.
Prepare your husbands for this. If they don't know to look away when it's happening they may never see you the same way again.
THE THIRST: Your body will start increasing blood volume to nourish that little fetus of yours and it starts really early. It also wants liquid to replenish amniotic fluid. To do that, you need water and lots of it. Now I don't care if you've run marathons or done two-a-day football practices in August. You do not understand this kind of thirst until you're knocked up.
FOOD AVERSIONS: Morning sickness may or may not get you. Food aversions you can pretty much count on. Remember how much you love pineapple? How you could eat it forever and ever and never be tired of it? Swerve.There will be a dinner one night when you will look at it longingly and put a piece on your plate. Your tastebuds start doing this thing where they prepare the back of your throat for what it's about to swallow and it will straight out seize up and your brain will be like, "Girl, I hope you really appreciated the last time you ate this 'cause you're not gonna eat it again." Confusing, I know. Don't try and understand it because there's nothing logical about it.
THE BOOBS: If you had small boobs: they get bigger. If you had big boobs: they still get bigger. They're all bigger. Your husband will not complain about this. Fun fact: he will notice before you do. Funny how that works.
THE BELLY: You will spend the first trimester wondering where in the heck your baby bump is. You will check the mirror multiple times a day. At best, it looks like a food baby. The second trimester, you'll start showing and people might be able to discern a baby bump rather than a taco tummy. And come the third trimester, your bump will hit level "I WILL CUT A B IF I'M STILL PREGNANT NEXT TIME I CLEAN THIS TUB".
Squeamish readers, stop here. Husbands, avert your eyes. It's about to get really real. I can't remember how many times I called my mom prefacing the conversation with, "I'm about to get weird on you but I have got to ask you a question". There are things that happen that nobody will prepare you for and I'm about to be the somebody that does.
MORE ON BOOBS: There's a fair to middlin' chance that you will start lactating early. Like as early as 12 weeks. (Raises hand). Totally normal. Don't worry about it, and don't be overly freaked if you are in the middle of church and suddenly realize one of your best gals is soaking wet.
CRACKING PELVIS: It's not actually cracking, it just feels that way. As your baby (and the rest of you, probably, if we're being really honest) gets bigger, it puts increased pressure on your pelvis and ligaments. It's gonna hurt like a mofo when you get up in the morning, when you go down stairs, basically whenever you walk. Just get used to it and know that it will end someday.
BREATHING: I hope you really enjoyed doing that before you got pregnant. Because from about 6-9 months you will find yourself sitting sideways in the drivers side just to get a half breath of air. This will improve drastically once baby drops, which in turn will turn the "cracking pelvis" up a healthy notch.
THE SWELLING: Holy hannah the swelling. It will be everywhere. Your fingers, your face, your legs, and your feet. Invest in some compression stockings now. Maybe make sure they're cute, because you will probably wear them out of the house. Let me rephrase: You should never not wear them. Start grooming your husband now that he should fully pretend that he thinks you are every bit as sexy in a maternity bra and old folks' stockings because that will be your M.O. for a while.
PREGNANT FACE: This is where your nose grows and your face gets fat. I don't know why it happens, it just does, and it goes away.
STRETCHMARKS: Do not be fooled. Just because you don't have any throughout your pregnancy does not mean they won't show up instantly after having your baby. Just sayin'.
THE CONTRACTIONS: Some people never have them until the big event. Some people have them the majority of their pregnancy. If you're one of those lucky ones, take it easy, drink lots (especially gatorade) and keep an eye on them. More than 6 in an hour, call the doctor. I had them from 19 weeks onward pretty regularly and several times an hour which made me a little confused when I was actually in labor.
MUCUS PLUG: Google it. Know what it is. Know that you will lose it. Know that you will KNOW when that happens. Labor could be in an hour, or a day, or a month. Don't put too much stock in it.
It is.
Read on.
THE PARANOIA: Congratulations! You're pregnant! You just got your very first positive test. Two pink lines, a blue criss-cross, or the triumphant "PREGNANT 1-2 WKS", whichever the case may be.
But wait... ONE positive test is not enough. No! You need to see the progression - those lines getting darker, the digital proclaiming an increasing very rough estimate of how many weeks you are. Back to the store you go. You might just get one more pack to take in a couple of days - just to see. OR, you could be like me and spend over $100 on pregnancy tests of every kind over the next two weeks because you NEED to see visual evidence of your pregnancy every single day until your first dating ultrasound. Whichever works.
This is only the start. By the end of your next nine months, your Google history will contain search items like, "I just tripped and landed hard but on my feet is my baby okay" and "Accidentally fell asleep on my right side did I cause my baby a brain injury" and "how many milligrams of caffeine is too many".
THE HUNGER: You will never forget your very first bout of pregnancy hunger. Whatever you're doing, you. will. remember. forever. Mine, I was about 5 weeks pregnant and walking through the dining room when it hit. I need to eat RIGHT NOW or I will die. I will die or pass out or vomit or maybe even all three but not in that order. So I whipped open the pantry door and grabbed the first thing I saw, which was nuts and fruit strips and ate it all. I've never tasted anything better in my life.
Prepare your husbands for this. If they don't know to look away when it's happening they may never see you the same way again.
THE THIRST: Your body will start increasing blood volume to nourish that little fetus of yours and it starts really early. It also wants liquid to replenish amniotic fluid. To do that, you need water and lots of it. Now I don't care if you've run marathons or done two-a-day football practices in August. You do not understand this kind of thirst until you're knocked up.
FOOD AVERSIONS: Morning sickness may or may not get you. Food aversions you can pretty much count on. Remember how much you love pineapple? How you could eat it forever and ever and never be tired of it? Swerve.There will be a dinner one night when you will look at it longingly and put a piece on your plate. Your tastebuds start doing this thing where they prepare the back of your throat for what it's about to swallow and it will straight out seize up and your brain will be like, "Girl, I hope you really appreciated the last time you ate this 'cause you're not gonna eat it again." Confusing, I know. Don't try and understand it because there's nothing logical about it.
THE BOOBS: If you had small boobs: they get bigger. If you had big boobs: they still get bigger. They're all bigger. Your husband will not complain about this. Fun fact: he will notice before you do. Funny how that works.
THE BELLY: You will spend the first trimester wondering where in the heck your baby bump is. You will check the mirror multiple times a day. At best, it looks like a food baby. The second trimester, you'll start showing and people might be able to discern a baby bump rather than a taco tummy. And come the third trimester, your bump will hit level "I WILL CUT A B IF I'M STILL PREGNANT NEXT TIME I CLEAN THIS TUB".
Squeamish readers, stop here. Husbands, avert your eyes. It's about to get really real. I can't remember how many times I called my mom prefacing the conversation with, "I'm about to get weird on you but I have got to ask you a question". There are things that happen that nobody will prepare you for and I'm about to be the somebody that does.
MORE ON BOOBS: There's a fair to middlin' chance that you will start lactating early. Like as early as 12 weeks. (Raises hand). Totally normal. Don't worry about it, and don't be overly freaked if you are in the middle of church and suddenly realize one of your best gals is soaking wet.
CRACKING PELVIS: It's not actually cracking, it just feels that way. As your baby (and the rest of you, probably, if we're being really honest) gets bigger, it puts increased pressure on your pelvis and ligaments. It's gonna hurt like a mofo when you get up in the morning, when you go down stairs, basically whenever you walk. Just get used to it and know that it will end someday.
BREATHING: I hope you really enjoyed doing that before you got pregnant. Because from about 6-9 months you will find yourself sitting sideways in the drivers side just to get a half breath of air. This will improve drastically once baby drops, which in turn will turn the "cracking pelvis" up a healthy notch.
THE SWELLING: Holy hannah the swelling. It will be everywhere. Your fingers, your face, your legs, and your feet. Invest in some compression stockings now. Maybe make sure they're cute, because you will probably wear them out of the house. Let me rephrase: You should never not wear them. Start grooming your husband now that he should fully pretend that he thinks you are every bit as sexy in a maternity bra and old folks' stockings because that will be your M.O. for a while.
PREGNANT FACE: This is where your nose grows and your face gets fat. I don't know why it happens, it just does, and it goes away.
STRETCHMARKS: Do not be fooled. Just because you don't have any throughout your pregnancy does not mean they won't show up instantly after having your baby. Just sayin'.
THE CONTRACTIONS: Some people never have them until the big event. Some people have them the majority of their pregnancy. If you're one of those lucky ones, take it easy, drink lots (especially gatorade) and keep an eye on them. More than 6 in an hour, call the doctor. I had them from 19 weeks onward pretty regularly and several times an hour which made me a little confused when I was actually in labor.
MUCUS PLUG: Google it. Know what it is. Know that you will lose it. Know that you will KNOW when that happens. Labor could be in an hour, or a day, or a month. Don't put too much stock in it.
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