I Blinked

And I honestly think I missed about 4 days.  WTH?  I know I took Little C in for her 2 month check up on Monday and she is 12 lbs.  TWELVE POUNDS people!!!  My baby...my little newborn is a whopping 12 pounds.  So much has happened this week and I'm still trying to wrap my head around it all.  I almost feel like I am buzzing, if that makes any sense at all.  Almost like I can't turn off.  But I am...I think.  Although I am waking up dogass tired in the morning.  But, I do have a baby...with colic...and reflux....so...yeah. 

I had to have Martha, my bulldog euthanized yesterday.  I spoke in a previous post about her lymphoma diagnosis.  It progressed faster than expected.  It broke my heart to let her go, although just by looking at her I knew she had a few days, if that.  She crashed from a chemo treatment and although she was recovering from that, the cancer was getting out of control and quickly.  It has been 3 weeks since her diagnosis.  I pray that if I succumb to that disease I go as quickly.  Such a horrific disease that knows no boundries and doesn't discriminate.  After being on medication for my PPD for the last 3.5 weeks I am feeling a bit better, but some things bother me.  Like feeling incredibly sad at the loss of my dear sweet Martha, but not being able to *cry* for her.  I suppose it will take another few weeks for the medication to adjust fully.  Its little things like that, that will take some getting used to.  Otherwise, I am better.  Not nearly as irritable or weepy.  Don't get me wrong, I have my moments...they just seems to be less frequent.  And that I am happy about.

This long weekend is almost over and I don't know where it went or what the heck I spent it doing, other than the obvious. ::points to above paragraph::  I'm disappointed because I felt like I have had no time with my hubs this weekend or the kiddos.  And I still have quite a few other irons in the fire.  BTW, I'm working on several other posts if y'all are interested.  One is Little C's birth story and the other is about K and I and our beginning.  It is taking me a while because I need to dig up some pictures and stuff for the posts.  But stay tuned...that is if you wanna know about it.  Anyway.  I gotta go do some stuff.  I can't sit around for too long today.  Too much to do and not enough time to do it.  Story of my life!

I Thought We Were In The Home Stretch

With the acid reflux.  But no.  Little C had her 2 month check up on Monday.  Things went well.  She is in the 60-75th percentiles for height & weight and 90% for head size, which Dr. L said was just fine.  She has that nice, round c-section head shape.  Anyway, we discussed her crying/colic situation.  And he saw it first hand for himself.  It is his opinion that even though the gas issue has improved that she is hypersensitive.  Meaning she will cry at the drop of a hat if she is disturbed.  He told me not to worry and that most babies do grow out of this at about 3-4 months.  So, we will see, we've 4-6 more weeks to go.  He reflux seemed to be getting under control until Tuesday night.  It was horrible.  She was spitting up every single time I burped her, bringing it through her nose and then going into a flat out panic, squeezing her eyes shut, shaking, unable to catch her breath and then finally screaming hysterically.  Even after the episode was over I noticed her squeezing her hands tightly into fists, arching her back and throwing her legs straight out, literally she probably could have stood straight up if I had been holding her that way, while she screamed.  Not cried.  Oh no.  This was flat out hysterical, panicked screaming that clearly says, "Something is wrong."  It was the kind of scream where you knew immediately it meant "I am in pain."  I couldn't get her to eat any more formula either.  I finally got her settled down and she did sleep through the night.  She awoke at 4:30am and drank her whole 4 ounce bottle and we had no problems.  I was relieved.

Then came later that morning.  I tried to feed her again at 8:30am.  The same thing happened.  She drank, burped and spit up bringing it through her nose, panicked, screamed, cried and continued writhing in pain, refusing to drink any additional formula.  I called the pediatrician and told him what was going on.  He told me to stop the Zantac and called in a script for Prevacid.  Hoping this will remedy her problem.  I do too.  Things have been unchanged thus far, but she has only had 2 doses.  I worry that I can't get her to drink more than 2-3 ounces at a feeding.  She is clearly not herself.  And although she may be hypersensitive and crying a lot, she is still my sweet girl and I want her crying because she can cry, not because she is in pain.

This is a real blow for me considering the PPD.  The feelings of being inadequate and worthless as a mother did rear their ugly heads yesterday.  It happened during the time that Little C was screaming and crying so hard that I broke down and I cried with her.  I yelled at God and asked why He was doing this to me, to immediately apologize to Him and again feel guilty and shameful over my outburst and inability to control myself from yelling like a loon at the crucifix on my wall.  I looked at my screaming baby, in obvious pain and distress and could do nothing.  Nothing.  I can't make this go away.  Helpless.  I can't even soothe her when she gets like this.  She almost has to cry herself out because she gets into such hysterics and that also scares me.  I don't want my baby doing this to herself day after day.

I've also got other things going on that isn't helping my situation.  The dog with cancer is at the vet.  I'm waiting to hear back from him as I type this.  While I was at the pediatrician with Little C on Monday, my brother called me to tell me, Savannah...my very old Bulldog died.  Granted I know she was old, less than 2 months shy of her 14th birthday, which is unheard of in Bulldogs.  Still, it was something I wish wouldn't have had to happen NOW.  And I don't even want to get into the situation with one of the horses.  Ugh...she really gouged herself up and so I've been playing veterinarian to her as well.  Having to come in and shower before I can touch my kids because I certainly am not going to transmit any kind of infection/bacteria from the animals outside to my kids.  Again, it would have been nice if this didn't happen at all...but especially not now.

Oh and I also didn't mention my father getting into a car accident on Saturday.  He was rear ended by a driver in a SUV who was then hit by the car behind him.  My dad was waiting to make a turn when the guy behind him tried to go around him, he must have been in a big hurry and plowed into the back of my dad's car.  Its an old car...a 1986 Buick.  So there was no collision on it.  And they are going to total it since it can't be driven.  If they decide they can fix it I'll be very surprised.  My Dad hit his head, blacked out for a few minutes and had a good bit of bleeding.  But he refused treatment saying with was only a scratch and that he was fine.  I begged him to let me take him to the hospital or to an urgent care facility at least.  And he refused...telling me he didn't want to hear any more about it.  My Dad is 71.  He is the only grandparent these kids really have as my in-laws are 3,000 miles away in Oregon and my mother is dead.  Big C adores my father.  This has been stressing me out.  I love my father and he is the only parent I have left as well.  I don't want anything happening to him because of his stubborness and refusal to see a doctor.  Especially if it could have been avoided altogether.  But what else can I do?  I can't *make* him.  And I tried.  I laid guilt trips on him and everything and he won't budge.

I so need to find the strength to get us all through this.  Now if only someone could drop a big chunk of it in my lap for me.

Wordless Wednesday - Innocent When Guilty

Brain-Fried

Little C has been screaming and crying all day.  Her reflux doesn't seem to be better with Zantac, so I'm going to ask the pedi about a possible medication change when I take her for her 2 month check up.  Big C was up all night screaming and crying.  The good news is that he is finally beginning to respect my authority....a little.  Normally when I correct him he giggles and laughs and continues to do it.  I cannot tell you how much of a relief his listening to me, on some level anyway, is while Little C is going through her colic issues.  That being said, it seems he has his own set of issues...mainly neediness.  And I'm sure it is to get attention away from her.  So at the moment they are both screaming at me in stereo, despite being fed, changed, burped and a 3 hours nap.  Now, if I can just keep sane throughout this, we'll be in business.  Now, where are those ear plugs again?

-MoM-

Wordless Wednesday

OK, So Here it Goes

I normally don't discuss very private things on my blog.  But this time, I'm going to.  I touched on it a little in a previous post.  I've been suspicious for a while, but after seeing and talking with my OB today, I'm ready to admit it publicly because I think it needs to be done in order to help others.  I'd like to thank Heir To Blair first though, for giving me the courage to come forward by displaying courage of her own to also come forward in an attempt to help bring about more awareness of this condition.

I have Postpartum Depression.  At first I thought it was just "baby blues" and waited for it to get better.  It didn't.  The more I try to compare my last pregnancy with this one I am realizing that I probably had it to some degree with my first child as well, perhaps I was just not as aware as I am now.  I became pregnant with Little C just 6 months after Big C was born.  During the course of my pregnancy I cried. A lot.  I just thought it was normal pregnancy hormones coupled with the additional responsibility of taking care of my infant son.  I kept telling myself that things would be better after Little C was born.  Boy, was I sorely mistaken.

I've always been somewhat neurotic, a compulsive worry wart.  At times, pre babies it would come on strong, usually when family members were ill or when I had a litter of puppies to raise.  During this pregnancy with Little C, I hadn't noticed how out of control it had become.  I would check on Big C constantly.  While he took naps or at bedtime I was so terrified that he was going to stop breathing that the constant checking in on him would wake him up.  After moving Big C to his crib in his own room, which is right next to ours, I would lay at night with the monitor pressed to my ear listening making sure I could hear him breathe. I kept the lamp on in my room while he was in there so I could see him and make it easier to get up for feedings through the night.  After he moved into his crib, I continued to leave the lamp on in my room.  Months later and I couldn't bring myself to turn it off.  As if leaving that lamp light on would somehow get me to him faster if something was happening in his room.  That lamp is still lit every night.

I won't bore you with every detail, but the idea of having PPD didn't really come to mind until after Little C was born.  I was am still crying a lot.  I just assumed that it was the postpartum hormone crash mixed with all the things I have going on right now that was making me feel like I was losing my mind.  I mean having my dad & brother both with medical problems, a tantrum throwing 16 month old to run after, a screaming baby with unresolved colic issues, a husband who is gone for 14.5 hours a day, in-laws visiting for 2 weeks, the baby's baptism, having my old tub/shower ripped out and new one put in, PECO energy destroying my property value and appearance not to mention my memories by hacking down my tree lined driveway and running to doctor appointments could bring anyone to tears, right?  Oh, and my vet called yesterday to tell me one of my dogs, Martha has lymphoma and a mass in her chest and that it is probably too late to do anything and she'll be dead soon.  Oh!  And I forgot...its also Mother's Day this weekend!  Yeah, it's going to be a wonderful day for me.  My mother will be dead 13 years next month so I'll be visiting her grave this Sunday.  I really could go on, but why?

The continued crying and meltdown moments are draining.  But what really gets to me is feeling so out of control, overwhelmed and inadequate.  This is so hard.  I look at my screaming baby and some days I am super mom and I am rocking her and soothing her with the best of them.  I am so in tune to her needs and cues that I can just about read her mind and it is a really good day.  Other times all I do is stare at her blankly while she screams and screams.  And still there are other times, and these are the most difficult and I am embarrassed to even type it out, that I just can't take the screaming any more and I scream back at her to just stop screaming or shut up already!  I snap at Big C when he is doing something I don't want him to do or if he is whining about something and....the way he looks at me when I yell at him, his little eyes fill up and his bottom lip quivers....it just kills me inside.  Immediately after I yell at either of them I grab them up and hold them too me crying and telling them I'm so sorry over and over, apologizing for being such a horrible mother.  The guilt is overwhelming and I just crumple into a sobbing mess.

I do NOT want to harm myself or my babies at all.  Those thoughts have not crossed my mind in the least.  I have never felt detached from my babies.  Never had the feelings of disinterest.  In fact, I am just the opposite.  Some might say I am obsessed.  I have to be everything to them, even if that means sacrificing my relationships with others.  My husband & I have not been out alone since before Big C was born.  I just can't bear to leave them.  I know it sounds so cliche to many moms who are out working and don't want to leave their babies.  This has nothing to do with that.  Me personally...I can't leave them.  I want to go do things on my own, have a date with my husband or a night with my friends.  But I can't.  Not without being miserable and worrying the entire time.  And I have tried.  In rare instances I will leave them with my husband to get something done.  And then I'm calling home all the time checking on them and making him insane.  Other times I've left them, I've felt guilty, worrisome and I loathe myself for it.

Speaking of husbands, mine is amazing.  He really is wonderful with our son and he adores his little girl.  When my day has me stretched to the limit and I'm ready to hand Little C off to him after he gets home, I don't.  I need a break from the screaming and I want to spend some time with my son, but when he asks me if I want him to take her I tell him, "No, I'm fine I got her."  Then, I get pissed at him for not taking her and giving me a break.  WTF?  Do you see the insanity I am living with right now?

Is it PPD or something more?  I don't know.  I probably should seek therapy for it.  But for right now, I'm going to take the advice of my doctor.  I've been too proud to admit that I need help.  Or perhaps I've just been too afraid to ask for it.  I hate the idea of taking medication for something I feel I should be able to handle on my own.  It makes me feel weak and inferior as a mother.  But I can't don't want to go another day like I have been.  So I have finally swallowed my pride and asked for help.  I'm hoping that I'll be a better mother for it.

Reflux, Colic, Gas...WTFever...I Hate It!!!!!

Little C just turned 6 weeks old yesterday. Happy 6 weeks Little C!  And we've been dealing with IG issues since she was about 10 days old.  Started out with gas and not pooping regularly.  I mean that was a total shocker.  In the hospital and when I first brought her home she wouldn't stop pooping.  I thought something was wrong with her.  The pediatrician thankfully explained that with young babies there is a reflex mechanism that when anything by mouth is stimulated, then the other end gets going too.  So I was relieved to know she was fine.  But within a few days all plumbing action seized up and all she did was fart and scream.  And when I say fart I mean that I had her laying on the bed to change her and it was so loud that it reverberated across the mattress and I felt the vibration on my leg.  It is no wonder she screams like she does.

She was switched over to Enfamil Gentlease and for the first few days it really seemed to do the trick.  That was short lived.  I stuck it out but we were still having the same pooping issue along with the gas.  This poor thing was screaming...like...the kind that seeks out that one area in your spinal column that makes you want to scream along with her kinda screaming.  Face turning so red that it looked like her eyeballs were going to pop out of her head.  Then you would hear it.  These farts were so huge, I know that had to sting her little butt cheeks.  After she'd lay there, panting and glistening with sweat.  You have to realize what this is doing to me as her mother.  It is ripping me apart that I have to watch her suffer like this and there is not a damn thing I can do about it.

At her 4 week appointment we discussed her reflux, which is mild compared to the gas/colic.  He prescribed her some Zantac which works, when I get it in her rather than on her.  It tastes (yes, I tasted it) like unflavored cough medicine.  I even have one of those nifty medicine bottles with a nipple on it and it usually works pretty well.  But sometimes she just fights me.  He also recommended that after 7-10 days if there was no improvement with the colic that we switch her to Enfamil Nutramigen.  Around 6 days later, after a feeding I was holding her and she had fallen asleep.  Three hours passed by and I was getting ready to wake her up and feed her when she spit up.  It wasn't an ungodly amount.  But it was 3 hours after being fed.  Shouldn't that formula have been digested and gone by then?  I called the pediatrician and he told me that yes, it should have been digested in 3 hours and to switch her to Nutramigen and keep her on Zantac.

About 2 weeks have gone by and Little C is still colicky.  I don't think it is quite as bad as when she was on Gentlease.  She still screams and farts like crazy.  If she isn't sleeping, she is screaming.  There are a few times where she is alert and smiling. (Yes, I said smiling!  Her social smile has made its debut!)  My only saving grace seems to be the cradle swing.  I think it might be magical.  She can be screaming and within 45 seconds of putting her in it she is sleeping.  That is how I've been able to write a few posts in the last two days.  And cook, clean, do laundry (well some of it anyway...effin hate laundry) and spend time with the in-laws.  The pooping situation has improved a little.  Softer yes, more frequent...not really.  Still only once a day most of the time. 

I just want my baby back.  She is at the point in her development where she is starting to discover things and show off her personality and I rarely get to see it because she is always screaming.  I'm praying that I can make it through this.  Big C had colic but after seeing what Little C is going through, I wouldn't even classify it as colic.  He screamed...a lot.  But he didn't have all the other issues Little C has.  I guess for now, I'm going to be breaking down the pack 'n play and moving the swing into my bedroom and letting her sleep in that at night.  At least then, we'll both get some sleep.

SAHM Vs. Working Moms...It's Not What You Think

I have no beef with working mothers.  I applaud you for doing what it takes to keep a roof over your head and provide for your family.  I know many working mothers who would like nothing more than to stay home with their babies.  And there are other mothers who love their jobs and love working.  Being a SAHM just isn't for them.  And that is fine.  That I don't have a problem with.  Being a SAHM is not for everyone.  The same goes for being a working mom....its not for everyone.

Again, let me clarify, I have no beef with working mothers.

However....

It royally pisses me off when I hear a working mother talk about "staying home" like its some kind of vacation.  While at my OBs office today, waiting for my 6 week post partum check up, another woman was at the desk with her 6 week old baby girl, signing out and chatting with the receptionist.  I don't make a habit of eavesdropping on a conversation, but the woman in question, I'll call her Ms. Blackberry, was standing right next to where I was sitting.  I see her reach into her bag and whip out her cell phone (a Blackberry, naturally) and start texting then glance over at her sleeping baby in her car seat and say, "Ready to go to the sitter?"  The receptionist had asked her if she was returning to work, or if she went back to work early.  Now I should have prefaced this by saying this woman was dressed in business attire, so it appeared she was back to work already.  Ms. Blackberry answered with a chortle, "Oh, I went back to work after 4 weeks!  I couldn't last the full 6 weeks.  There is no way I could be a stay at home mother.  I simply can't just sit around watching TV and doing nothing all day."

WTF?  Did I just hear this chick correctly?  Does she really think SAHMs just sit on our fat asses all day and watch TV doing nothing?  I nearly stood up and let her have it, but I retained my composure as I rocked my screaming colicky baby who was farting up a storm and making a huge blowout.  I do not think I'm an overly sensitive person, but damn...that statement got way deep into my crawl and I think my eye was twitching a little because Ms. Blackberry gave me a look, as if I was going to beat the ever loving crap out of her and she sped up as she walked past me.  Either that or she was trying to get away from Little C's deafening screams and ripe diaper in a hurry.

I know working moms get a lot of flack.  But you are not alone.  And hey, if you ever need a break from work, call in sick, bring your kiddo(s) over for a play date and we can both sit on our asses and do nothing but watch TV.  What would you like to watch? :)

-MoM-