What Do You Want From Me?

I'm disappointed.  I feel failed.  I know that medication is not a cure for postpartum depression/anxiety.  But I guess I did think it was going to make me "all better" and I would be fine as long as I was taking it.  Yeah, that is totally not what happens.  When I had my medication adjusted a few weeks ago, I had a few bad days.  I was irritable, snappy and I was just in a funk.  It really sucked.  After about 4 days, things were beginning to even out and I was actually enjoying some of the manic episodes.  I was super mom!  Cooking, cleaning, tending to the kids.  There was not a crying child all day because I had attended to every need and was a flipping June Cleaver on speed.  Everything was GREAT!  Until yesterday.

The day started out fine enough.  But I was slightly agitated and I assumed it was because of Big C coming down with a 103* temperature the night before.  This child is 18 months old and has never had a fever higher than 99 and that was only when he got his vaccines.  I know I have 2 babies, but I am still a new Mommy.  Only been one for 18 months and I have a lot to learn and many things I've yet to experience.  I was ready to race him to the ER because I was afraid if it went higher his brain was going to fry.  I might have been somewhat melodramatic but he is my baby!  So don't judge me!

I took Big C to the pediatrician yesterday morning.  After speaking to him the night before and determining it appeared as though it wasn't life-threatening, he asked me to bring him in the next morning.  Everything went well while we were there.  It was even fine after we got home.  But as the day wore on, I found myself getting frustrated and then the moodiness set in.  Let me give you some advice, when this happens, if you have someone else around to take care of your children, let them do it. 

I should probably also tell you that Little C has had two incidences of diarrhea.  They have been isolated and no fever for her.  But she is 3 months old, Big C does have a fever with no other symptoms, so it makes me nervous.  Their issues are probably unrelated since the symptoms are different, but who knows?  I'm thinking this was a trigger for me.  I am naturally a little neurotic, especially when it comes to my kids.  The fact that I am agitated also doesn't help the kids.  They can easily pick up on things like that.  Add to that a cranky toddler with a fever and a fussy newborn with acid reflux, gas pains from diarrhea and an appetite like a bear after waking from a 4 hour nap and you have a very ugly situation about to explode.

I don't even want to recount this because it hurts.  I'm still feeling horrible about it.  Little C was super fussy and literally screaming like a crazy child.  I could hear her swallowing huge gulps of air as she screamed.  I had already fed her about an hour prior.  Had just changed her diaper when she began to fuss.  But it went from mild fussing to full out hysterics in 2 seconds flat.  I didn't know what to do.  I had already fed her, she burped 4 times, I changed her diaper, I rocked her, shushed her, checked her temperature just to make sure she didn't have a fever, rocked her some more and she JUST. KEPT. SCREAMING.

Then I felt it, hot tears welling up and I quickly laid her on the bed.  Was she still hungry?  She just drank 5 ounces and that is normally her limit.  I'll make her some more anyway.  I jumped off the bed and began mixing up a bottle.  I just couldn't make it fast enough.  She just starting screaming like someone was hurting her, killing her.  I then began screaming.  Yelling at her to "just wait a minute I'm going as fast as I can" but she continued to scream and scream and scream.  The bottle was made and I raced over to the bed, snatched her up and shoved the nipple in her mouth.  And....she screamed.  AND SCREAMED AND SCREAMED.  Finally, I just couldn't take it anymore.  I yelled out for K to come help me.  He came in and I gave her to him and told him to walk with her and try to get her under control.

He walked her up and down the hallway and after a few moments she began to quiet.  I could hear her sniffling, sucking in sharp gulps of air as she settled down.  I just sat on the bed, put my head in my hands and I cried.  Silently, shamefully.  I yelled at my baby...again.  I thought the medicine was supposed to stop that?  I thought I wasn't going to flip out and fly off the handle anymore?  What happened?  What do I need to do to get this to stop?  Goddamn it PPD...WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?  I hate this and I hate you!  You are stealing me away from my children.  I'm afraid of causing psychological damage to both of them when I flip out and yell.  I just want to be like everyone else, you know?  Not irritable, frustrated, moody, angry, paranoid, neurotic, over protective, obsessive compulsive, anxiety ridden, self-loathing, guilt-ridden and feeling like a failure.  I am not like this all the time.  But I don't want to be like this at all.

K brought her back into the bedroom and handed her to me.  She looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes, wet and glassy from crying.  Her little nose running a bit and her face flushed from crying.  I offered her the bottle and she took it without protest.  I looked into those beautiful little brown eyes and I told her I was sorry.  That I am a horrible mother and that I wish I could take it back, wished I could be a better mother.  And then I cried sobbed.  Body rocking, deep sobbing.  So much and so hard that my head began to hurt.  None of this was her fault.  It is mine.  I need to get control of myself.  I can't do it alone.  I can't expect medication to do it alone either.  I know this is going to take time, but that is something I feel like I never have enough of these days.  I'll be talking to my doctor again and maybe it is time that I look into finding a postpartum group or therapist.  Right now, I'm willing to take all the help I can get if it means my recovery will be faster and complete.

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.

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-

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-

Life on The Reflux Front

Little C has reflux.  Great news is, it's not that bad.  Just enough to make her uncomfortable, scream and bring formula flying through her nose.  And I hate that.  I cannot tell you how I abhor it coming through her nose.  It makes me a nervous wreck.  She could easily suck what she brought through her nose and aspirate it into her lungs and wind up with pneumonia. But, I'm a veteran at using bulb syringes and pulling gunk out of noses....'cept they were the noses of puppies.  It really isn't that different.

I did invest in a product recently and it was clearly the best $20 I have ever spent.  It is the battery operated aspirator by Graco.  I cannot sing its praises enough!  Big C detests having his face sucked out and thrashes, kicks, screams, thrashes some more looking like he is having a convulsion.  It takes forever with the bulb syringe to get that liquidy goo out of his nose.  I pin his tush down and turn this bad boy on and in like 20 seconds its all collected in the cup and its a lot!  Poor kid can finally breathe afterward.  So, if I know you and you are knocked up and inviting me to the baby shower...that is what I'm buying you.  And I don't care if it isn't on your registry or that it won't be a surprise.  Trust me.  You will totally want to make out with me when you use it for the first time.  OK, maybe not make out, but you will think I'm a pretty big deal and stuff.

Anyway, back to Little C.  She was switched to the Enfamil Gentlease formula about 2 weeks ago for her gas issues.  I have to say, it has helped.  She can still rip them off with the best of them, but it is much better.  However her screaming and crying continued.  We had a recheck with the pediatrician on Wednesday and after describing our daily routine, feeding schedule and baby happiness level it was determined that Little C is suffering from some reflux and that it could be due to milk protein sensitivity.  She has been gaining weight steadily.  She is now up to 9lbs. 13oz. and she totally grew an inch and a half in 4 weeks!  She's 21 inches now.  The Dr. has started her on Zantac and it seems to be helping.  If there is no real improvement in 1 week then he wants me to switch her over to the Nutramigen and see how that goes.  I always thought reflux babies barfed all the time and had little weight gain in addition to screaming constantly.  Apparently that is not the case.  I guess some babies are more sensitive than others and so their symptoms are far worse.  Luckily, Little C spits up often, but not a lot in volume.  She does arch her back and stretch her neck when it happens, so I know that sour burning in her throat is the culprit.  We shall see.  The Zantac has been keeping some of her discomfort at bay, but she had a pretty bad episode this morning, spitting up twice in a row, bringing it through the nose and screaming bloody murder.  Other than that, my baby girl is growing and growing!

The in-laws have arrived and Little C's christening is scheduled for this Sunday.  We are frantically working to get everything pulled together and I think we'll make it.

My Lame Attempt To Catch Up

I know I've been absent for a while.  Mostly because I gave birth to this little chubby person 3 weeks ago. 

Well, that and taking care of this little chubby person that I gave birth to 15 months ago.

 
Along with said baby who is a handful herself.  My Little C has gas.  Like...major gas.  She could rival any frat boy's bum.  This in turn makes her extremely unhappy.  I kid you not, her screams...not crying, but her screams are ear shattering.  I'm convinced that I'll be deaf in the right ear if this continues for 3 more weeks because after an hour of said screaming mixed with crying, I can't hear a thing from that ear.

I'll pound out a birth story for Little C at some point, right now I just don't have the energy.  Hey, some of you might want to read it.  It contains having an anxiety attack and hyperventilating in the OR while being prepped for my c-section.  Yeah to the point where I was a might bit hysterical and trying to claw my way off the table....egads...that wasn't supposed to happen!  But, that's for another day.  For right now I'm just going to try to catch up on the other happenings.

A few days after Little C was born, my uncle died.  He was battling cancer of various types, but it was the brain cancer that finally ended his life.  While in recent years I hadn't been super close to him, I was before my Mom died.  He took me fishing where I caught my first fish, bought my brother and I bunnies on Easter and left me with many fine memories.  Like the time while at Easter dinner at their house I had been given a little stuffed chicken who was hatching from an egg.  Uncle Al promptly took it from me, lifted his leg and pretended to fart on it.  I think I was 4 or 5 years old.  I burst into tears and was convinced that he really did fart on my chicken and that now it was going to smell like that fart FOREVER!  My Aunt yelled at him...he laughed, grabbed it once again and again lifted his leg and farted on my chicken.  Everyone laughed and told me he was only kidding.  I was having none of it.  I can only guess that my Aunt was tired of my wailing and took me upstairs to her room where I proceeded to pour nearly and entire bottle of perfume on that chicken.  My Uncle was a character to say the least.  He had a great sense of humor, and the spirit of a mischievous kid.  I'm really going to miss him...alot.  I went to his viewing and the funeral and yes, I brought my kids with me.  My husband stayed at home with Big C during the viewing, but I had to take Little C with me.  I didn't want to leave him home alone with both babies after just 9 days.  All of us attended his funeral.  He loved kids and I know he'd have loved little Little C too.  At this most joyous time in my life, I was forced to deal with something so sad and permanent as death.  It is exhausting being both happy and sad at the same time.

I've also been really concerned about my brother.  A while back I made brief mention of what was going on with him in this entry.  Well, he was in the hospital back in September and had to go back in the hospital again in January.  Although it was only for a week.  He is now going to the wound care clinic to try to get the ulcers on his legs under control.  My brother has chronic venous insufficiency.  In other words, he has lousy veins in his legs which cause poor blood flow from the legs to the heart, which in turns causes severe edema, which leads to the ulcers.  It is a vicious cycle and he went in and had vein ablation done back on March 8th to allow healthy veins to take over in order to alleviate the excessive swelling.  Its been a nightmare from there.  From a hematoma, to suspected blood clot and just when the ulcers were healing up and looking good....new ones have developed.  He has been in a lot of pain with it and the ulcers are equivalent to 2nd degree burns.  He hasn't been able to get around like he used to, which has lead to him being irritable and snappy, which leads to the two of us fighting constantly. *Sigh*

Let's move on to my Dad.  I honestly don't even know where to start there.  But to save a long and drawn out post as this one is getting there already, he has been having health issues as well.  Already diagnosed with Stage 3 chronic kidney disease, he has only recently developed swelling in his legs and feet and it is troublesome.  Because the swelling is really bad.  In fact his doctor called while I have been writing this entry to tell me that the blood tests that were done yesterday are showing the kidney has gotten worse.  However, after being prescribed an antibiotic by his PCP for something unrelated, the Nephrologist wants him to stop the antibiotic and hae the blood test done again on Monday.  I'm worried about him.  I've already lost my Mother.  He is the only parent I have left.  Just now beginning to enjoy being a grandfather to Big C, who adores him BTW, and looking forward to playing with his granddaughter too...I'm so afraid that something will happen to him.  He isn't a spring chicken at 71 years old...but has been in really good health all but for the kidney.  It's bad enough my babies will never get to know the awesomeness that was their maternal Grandmother....I don't want them missing out on knowing their Grandfather as well.

Which brings me to me.  I've been under a lot of pressure lately.  Hormonal changes from having Little C.  My inability to produce sufficient breast milk, despite pumping...a lot.  Only managing 1/4 of an ounce is discouraging to say the least, but I trudged on and made it up to a whole 1/2 ounce per breast.  Which quickly diminished again to a mere dribble.  Sleep deprived.  Little C's constant crying and being unable to poop without me *encouraging* it and being gas bound.  My Uncle dying and then attending his funeral the day before Easter.  My brother and father having health issues.  Oh, and my in laws are coming next week to see the babies.  And we are having Little C baptized next weekend too.  Which I haven't gotten invitations done, or the cake thought about, or favors.  I just barely got the date nailed down.  My in laws are traveling by vehicle the 3000 miles from Oregon.  They wanted to come last year to see Big C after he was born, but then some things came up on their end  and they found themselves unable to make the long trip.  I wanted to have Little C baptized while they were here because it is something special and they've come so far.  I really am looking forward to seeing them.  It's been several years since I have.  I also think it might be a welcomed relief to have a maternal figure around to help.

I've been having what is typically referred to as the Baby Blues.  It's been 3 weeks since Little C's birth and typically the blues go away within a few weeks,  But with everything else I've had going on, mine is probably hanging around a bit longer.  Don't worry...I don't want to harm myself or my babies or anything like that.  I just feel overwhelmed, out of control (mostly because I'm a fixer...I like to fix things and make it all better), inadequate (thank you breasts and my inability to console my screaming baby), guilty (I can't dedicate myself to Big C like I once did, especially since he is now a snot factory and I dunno if it's allergies or a cold and won't take the risk of making Little C sick too), frustrated, inadequate, irritable and completely alone.  I think that part is the worst...feeling so alone because no one else in your house can understand what you are going through.  I wonder if I can go back to taking St. John's Wort?  I decided to take that after my Mom died.  My doc wanted to slap me on Zoloft but I knew I just needed to grieve.  I didn't like the depression along with my grieving so I tried St. John's Wort and it actually did work for me.  I've already decided that I'm not going on any type of hormonal birth control, so I don't need to worry about the contraindications on that front.

Well, that is most of it in a nutshell.  A very large nutshell by the looks of this mega post.  But it was a lot of catching up.  I'll probably be sporadic in my postings for a while.  Pretty sure I won't be on the computer at all while the In-laws are here for 2 weeks. I'm hoping I can retain my sanity through all of this.

30 Weeks!

I know I said this last week, but it's something about hitting the 30 week mark that just makes you sit back and say, "Woah!"  It's almost time!  Sure 10 weeks is still a long time, but considering that a pregnancy lasts 40 weeks, it's actually the homestretch.  I won't be going to the doctor for another 2 weeks.  This is just me reporting on what's going on this week and how I'm feeling.

Emotionally, it has been one of the hardest weeks during the whole pregnancy.  My hormones have been taking control and have me all over the place.  Couple that with life's other stressors and you have a hormonal breakdown on the verge of letting loose.  It did yesterday, a few times actually.  But although I'm feeling overwhelmed, I'm doing much better.  I hope I continue to stay on a positive path.

The babe moves quite a bit, when he or she feels like it.  There really is no pattern with this little one.  I suppose he or she can't make up their mind like their momma. :-)  I've had some cramping earlier int he week, but I'm convinced it was because I was overdoing it a bit.  Rushing to get C's birthday party together and then the drama with the church hall, which I'll save for another time if I remember was enough stress for me and I guess my body was telling me, "OK, sit down, shut up and stop worrying.  You have other people to help you...duh!"  So that is what I did after Big C's birthday party.  I went home and just sat down and tried to relax, freaking out over the cramping that felt more like someone shoving an ice pick into my uterus.  Thankfully, the pain ceased by the next morning and I resumed dealing with my usual ailments, my pelvis feeling as though it is going to break.  I must admit though, even that is getting a tad bit better.

One thing I am dealing with more this time around is swelling.  I don't think I've seen my feet, legs and belly...yes I said my belly swollen like this before.  I had swelling in my belly last pregnancy as well, but this is like...crazy.  Last time it was pitting edema too.  But this is such a big area!  My belly is bigger because of so much swelling, and I can really feel it when I go to put on socks & shoes.  It's like leaning over with a beach ball attached to an already plump baby bump!  And just for the record, I hate bending over and I avoid it when I can.

Sleep is sporedic.  I'm either up taking a potty break, or flipping from one side to the other because my hips have gone numb or are sore.  I'm also waking up to clogged sinuses which leads to open mouth breathing at night, which leads to dry mouth and sore throat.  So I'm often up trying to unclog, getting a drink and rolling on some lip balm to fight the dryness.  Add to that Big C's sporadic waking up screaming crying in the middle of the night and you have a recipe for very little sleep.  I'm getting enough though.  I'm tired, but still able to function.  And when I feel exceptionally exhausted, I use Big C's nap time to take a nap and try to rejuvenate myself as well.

Everything else is pretty much the same pregnancy wise.  No contractions, other than an occasional BH squeeze here and there.  It is still really rough picking up Big C and carrying him from room to room when I need to.  My reduced lung capacity has me dealing with a lot of huffing and puffing and I've been getting hit with some wicked heartburn here and there as well.  Thank goodness for Tums!  Well, that's about it for now! ;-)

Just When You Thought You Had It Made

I know babies cry.  Big C cried.  All. The. Time.  Call it what you will...colic, gas, reflux, hunger (For the first 8 days I tried to EBF and wound up starving my kid rather than nourishing him since I just couldn't make more than a drop of BM.  I even took drugs to boost production and came up empty), or constipation.  All I know is one day my husband looked at me the night before Big C's 2 month appointment and said, "Ask he why he does nothing but cry...constantly."

To Big C's credit, he didn't cry "constantly".  Just when he wasn't sleeping (which were 15-30 minute intervals) and when he wasn't eating.  K and I were both seriously sleep deprived and snapping at one another like crocodiles over a chicken leg.  He was getting up at 4:30am to head to work, only to come home at 6:30-7:30pm to a screaming child and a wife begging for him to take said screaming child for a few hours so she could sleep.  I was getting up with him around the clock, and even though I let K sleep, I'd say it wasn't exactly as *sound* as he'd have liked it to be. 

Then, something miraculous happened.  I discovered rice cereal, put him to sleep in his swing and he was also getting older.  The rice cereal helped him keep food down.  He started spitting up a lot so this helped make it a bit heavier.  The swing kept him upright and the motion lulled him to sleep.  I also give chops to the sound machine I purchased from Homedics.  The projector and ocean and rain sounds helped too...and still are!  Time went on and he began to sleep longer...although only taking 15 minute power naps during the day.

I won't get into the transition from bassinet to crib...that was a task in and of itself that was a source of great frustration for hubs and I but we got through it.  But I digress.  Big C began to grow out of his colic, reflux whatever you wish to label it, and I had a very happy content baby.  Who has remained that way, for the most part...up until last night.  What happened last night was a cold slap into reality and just a reminder that sleepless nights are approaching with the birth of the new baby in a few months.  But it wasn't just the sleepless night.  It was a culmination of what motherhood parenthood really is about.

Big C just turned a year old on Friday, New Year's Eve.  So he's way past the newborn stuff.  He has been cutting a bicuspid throughout the last week or so, which I know is a stress to him since he is chewing on his thumb more often, drooling again and cranky.  Some Motrin usually helps and he is his jolly self once again.  Occasionally, I have been a bonehead and put him to bed without a dose of Tylenol or Motrin to help with the pain of his teething and he'll wake up between 3 and 4am.  I give him a sippy cup of formula, a dose of meds, we play and snuggle for 30 minutes or so and he happily goes back to sleep until he wakes in the morning his usual time.

Last night was a Mommy bonehead night.  Put him to bed at 8:30pm and he did nothing but cry in the crib.  OK, this is odd.  I realized he hadn't eaten as much as he normally does at dinner because he was being cranky and slapping the spoon out of my hands and flat out refusing to eat.  OK well everyone tells you when kiddies do that, they don't want any more!  He was fine otherwise.  Happily playing on the floor with toys after being taken out of the highchair until it was bedtime.  So K went in and got him at 9:15pm and brought him into the bedroom where I gave him a cup of formula and a animal cracker.  He seemed content and happy at that point.  I changed his diaper so he wasn't wet in the least and K took him back to the crib at 9:50pm.  Soon as he walked away the crying resumed.  He and I just looked at each other decided to give him a few minutes and maybe he'd settle himself.

The crying crescendoed into flat out hysterical screaming so K went in again and got him, it was now 10:29pm.  This time Big C had gotten himself so wound up that he was coughing until he threw up.  Three times.  Not a lot mind you.  Nothing projectile...we had that back when Big C had gotten his first cold.  Just the kind when you cough too hard and too deep and up a little bit of ick will come.  However, it did get on his PJs so I stripped him down, changed his diaper again, just in case (I'm a diaper nazi...I can't put a child to bed even with a drop of wetness in there) and after he was settled offered him a drink, which he took.  At this point this child was exhausted.  I could see the bluish purple circles under his eyes and he was rubbing his eyes fiercely and blinking repeatedly fighting to keep them open.

I proceeded to give him some Motrin, figuring it might be pain from the tooth coming in.  He clutched his Pooh bear and rolled to his side on the bed, along the side of my leg and I just shushed him like I did when he was a newborn and rubbed his back.  Still staring at the ceiling and blinking to keep from going to sleep I decided to pull out the secret weapon and began stroking his forehead and pushing his hair back.  He couldn't resist and finally closed his eyes.  K, in zombie-like form got up after a few minutes and picked him up and took him back to his crib.  It was 12:05am.  I heard Big C stir a bit and K comfort him in a hushed tone over the monitor.  Then I heard something that sounded like...*Scrrraaape, thummp, creeeak, scrrrape*

Next thing I know is Big C starts screaming, I see fur fly past the bedroom door and K comes racing in the room, across the bed and nearly dives off the side, reaching down under his side of the bed, knocking a few things off the night stand.  Up comes he and his arm from the floor and he's holding the cat, Mo and shoves her down the hallway and yells, "Stay out of his room!"  Yeah.  Nice one, Mo.  He had Big C almost fully asleep when she insisted to paw, then literally slam herself against the door in order to get it open to get to K.  Seriously the cat is up his arse and it annoys me.  But then again I never have been a cat person per say.  To continue, K goes in and settles our son once again and has a staring contest with him over the next 20 minutes.  He finally comes into the bedroom exhausted proclaiming that the screaming will begin because the kid just refuses to close his eyes.  To our surprise, several minutes went by and no screaming. 

I can't tell you how proud of ourselves we were.  I mean aside form being worried that our son was seriously sick or starting with an ear infection or something, we were working it out together and managed to get the little guy to settle down and go to sleep after all!  He looked at me and I at him and gave each other a little smile and laid our weary heads on our pillows.  We can totally do this!  We are good parents!

At 1:50am blood curdling screaming ripped our eye lids open and we both fly out of bed.  I panic.  My mind begins racing.

OK...if this was teething, the Motrin would have taken enough of the edge off that a completely spent and exhausted child would sleep...and for more than an hour.  Maybe it's an earache?  I haven't seen him tug at his ears at all.  But maybe he wouldn't.  Not all babies are the same.  He might just cry.  But it wasn't constant crying.  Don't they cry ALL the time with an earache?  And they have a fever don't they?  He had no fever. Wait?  Did I hear him fart?  Maybe it's gas?  I am such a horrible mother!  My baby is sick and I don't know what's wrong with him and all I can do is try to hush him and put him to bed!

We bring him back to our bed and I'm fighting back tears.  I feel helpless.  Just like I did when he was an infant and I couldn't breastfeed him.  And just like when I couldn't take his pain from reflux, gas, colic away.  I thought this was supposed to get easier?

It turns out, he was a bit gassy as he dropped a few more barking spiders than what I know as "normal" for him.  But I was having a hard time figuring out why?  He did have hiccups when K first put him to bed earlier that night....he could have swallowed air from them.  Although, he never did grab at his belly or kick his legs in a way that would make me suspicious of belly trouble.  After a few minutes I decided that if it was indeed gas, then the culprit was the scrambled egg he ate in the morning for breakfast.  I've offered it to him before but he usually gagged and spit it out.  Something about the texture.  But this morning, he happily chomped it down.  It was the only thing different that he had eaten.  Everything else he's had upteen times before.

So...I laid my baby down on my bed, hubs laying parallel to him and I rubbed his back, belly, legs and arms all the while shushing him quietly.  He clutched his Pooh bear to his chest and stared up at me and the ceiling.  I began stroking his forehead and gently pushing his hair back and with each lazy stroke his beautiful but very tired blue eyes fluttered and finally closed, and he fell asleep.  My husband looked at me and head motioned to the crib and I shook my head.  K just lay his head down and went to sleep with Big C.  I, opened a book, Raising Boys, by Dr. Dobson and continued reading where I left off the night before.  It's excellent so far and I recommend it for both mothers and fathers of boys.

I'm nearly 7 months pregnant and so it's no surprise that my back, ribs and pelvis start to ache when sitting up for a long time.  I needed to lay down, on my side for a while.  But I just sat and continued to read for about 2 hours, making sure my little boy got some sleep.  K stirred at 4am and looked at me as I closed my book and nodded to him.  I watched as he picked our limp darling boy up off the bed, snoozing blissfully and carried him to his crib.  He walked into the bedroom a moment later and we waited.  Quiet.  Only the sound of the rain falling on his noise machine.

I am happy to say he did sleep until about 8:30am.  K and I felt like zombies, but the boy was in better spirits this morning.  I've been dosing him with some Milicon to help rid him of any residual gas, even though I'm not 100% sure that was the issue.  I know I won't be feeding him eggs again...for a very, very long time.  Even managed to get him to take 2 decent naps today with little protesting on his part.  We shall see what tonight brings.  This experience made me realize that it does not get easier.  My cousin A, who I've mentioned often in my blog has 4 children ages 8, 5, soon to be 4 and soon to be 1.  One day I called her with a question and she was refereeing the kids while in the car and she said to me,  

"It doesn't get easier...it gets...different."

That has to be the best advice on parenting I've heard so far.  A has just started her own blog, just a little something to jot down things she never wants to forget.  We'll see how it evolves.  If you'd like to read it sometime, you can find it here.  So to all those new and expectant moms out there who happen across my blog, I am passing that advice on to you.  It will not get easier...but it will get different.  Parenting is the most difficult thing I've ever done.  It is also something I wouldn't change for anything else in the world.  I fear at times that I'm not a good mom, but you know what?  I'm a damn good mother.  I make sure my child is never in need of anything.  I play with him, I teach him and most important, I listen to him.  I don't always know what he is trying to tell me, but I do listen.  This journey into parenthood is like nothing I've ever attempted before and there is no going back.  I feel privileged to be given the opportunity to take the ride.

-MoM-