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.

63 Days Left to Go

Its my weekly update and this is for week 31!  I'm starting to get excited.  This pregnancy has been different from my last.  I have another child to take care of this time around.  My days are filled with Big C's feeding, pooping, playing, learning and all around being cute as can be.  That leaves little time to focus on this little babe.  I used to spend hours daydreaming about Big C.  What he would look like, how I would dress him up, all the things I needed to buy and how I would decorate the nursery.  I would badger my husband to help me think of names for our baby and once I knew we were having a boy...boy did my imagination soar.  I thought about all the amazing things I wanted to do with him, places to take him, things to show him and wonder if he'd look like his Daddy or what it would sound like when he spoke his first word.

I feel a little guilty.  Because I've been really focused on Big C, I've not done those things with this babe.  Most of the time I'm so exhausted that when I try to do those things while he takes a nap...I find myself taking one too.  I also don't know if we are having a boy or a girl.  It makes the surprise factor really exciting.  But a little more difficult to envision and daydream about a son or daughter.  I have to daydream about both!  Not to mention, I'm trying to focus on Big C as much as I can.  Before we know it, he won't be the only baby in the house anymore.  I don't want him feeling left out.  So I'm trying to get as much Mommy/Son time as I can with him before I won't have the opportunity to have him completely to myself.  Which is hard when lately he's decided that he only has eyes for his father and I'm chopped liver.  But that is a situation in and of itself that deserves it's own entry...at some point.

So...31 weeks.  Well, I've been feeling OK.  Really tired.  Big surprise there.  Heartburn is kicking my butt.  This pregnancy rhinitis is the pits.  I detest not being able to breathe.  Being clogged sucks.  And if I could actually blow my nose and clear it out, it would be great.  But there isn't much there.  It is all membrane swelling.  So I'm mouth breathing, couple that with my decreased lung capacity from babe taking up space and you have a huffing, puffing, wheezing, nasal-pinched, man-voiced, duck waddling, belly popping preggo chick.  Not a pretty sight.  No, really.

Waddling.  Ugh...at times I still feel like my pelvis is going to crumble.  I know this is all normal...just not comfortable.  It hurts so bad that I can't even attempt to walk normally.  Plus I have edema in the lower portion of my belly which makes bending over or down painful, and I know it will only get worse...I had it with Big C as well.  Since Big C isn't walking on his own, that means I'm running after him and hefting him from the floor up.  He weighs like...30 pounds.  I feel every muscle in my abdomen and pelvis straining each time I pick him up.

I'm peeing every 30 minutes to an hour.  The babe loves hanging out on my bladder.  I've even had 2 accidents.  Both due to sneezing.  They weren't full blown pee your pants...but it was enough.  I'd like to say it's because I'm keeping myself so well hydrated and drinking non-stop.  I drink alright but it's not a full bladder I'm emptying each time.  It's just the pressure from baby.

I still want to eat literally everything in sight.  But I have been minding my p's & q's regarding salt intake.  I've cut out the salt shaker entirely.  I avoid eating things like chips and if I do eat them only a few.  Any more than that sets me off with a raging headache.  Hopefully that will be enough to keep the BP under control.  I do get fuller faster.  So if I'm a Starvin' Marvin' I will try to stop before I finish everything and wait 15 minutes.  By then I really feel the fullness and stop chowing.  If I don't wait and keep going until I feel full, I've gone and pushed myself to the brink of misery of overeating and wanting to puke.  And let's face it, that doesn't help with the heartburn either!

The baby has been moving a lot.  I can't tell you how I adore that feeling.  It is the highlight of my pregnant day.  It is the one thing I miss most about being pregnant once the baby gets here.  I love being pregnant.  Not all the aches and pains and anxiety that go along with it.  But I love having a growing baby inside.  I love kids, and I love babies.  I kid you not...if it weren't for the fact that I am 34 years old, and that my husband and I don't have loads of disposable income, extended family to lend a hand when bring home a new baby or a house big enough...I could totally be the next Michelle Duggar.  OK...well, maybe not that many children.  But I could easily see myself with 5-8 of them.

So right now, I'm trying to spend as much time with my little boy as I can.  Enjoy each and every kick, jab, punch and bobble the babe throws at me, decide on a name, get the gear I need for the new babe together, unpacked or purchased (like a crib).  And think about the dozen other things that will need to happen before bringing home baby #2!

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-

Happy, Happy Birthday Baby

My Dearest Big C,

It was one year ago today that I was first able to lay eyes upon your beautiful face. You are one year old today and I can hardly believe it. I know it has been written before, but I want to tell you again, just so you understand just how much you are loved and how much you were are wanted. It is the story of your life so far...but it started with my own. So listen carefully my darling boy because today, in this letter you will realize that there is no one on Earth who loves you as much as I do.

I always knew I wanted you. From a little girl, I always knew I wanted to be a mommy. I also wanted to be a veterinarian, a doctor and lawyer...but whether or not I ever got to be those things, what never changed was the fact that I wanted to be a mother. Your mother. Partly it stemmed from my own relationship with my mother. I loved her. More than anything. There was no one that could make me feel so loved, so important, so special and so wanted like my mommy. Feeling her arms around me when she hugged me was the best. She was so safe and warm and comfortable. I looked up to her and I longed to one day have a child of my own to pour that love and adoration into. A child that I could raise, watch grow up and be proud of the person I had a hand in shaping and encouraging. I so wanted a baby. I so wanted you.

Your grandma got sick when I was just 6 years old. She nearly died in the hospital. She was supposed to slip into a coma, never to awake while the infection ravaged her body. Her doctor feared it would be imminent, there wouldn't be enough time for the medication to do its job and your grandma would succumb before it ever had a chance to save her. However, your grandma....well she had other plans. She loved your Uncle Jim and I so much, she couldn't bear the thought of leaving us. He was 16 and I was 6 and all she could think about was us. She was so, so tired. Only wanting to close her eyes and go to sleep, even though she knew she would never wake up. But that meant leaving Uncle Jim and I behind. And she just couldn't bear the thought. So your grandma was determined to stay awake. To fight the darkness that was creeping upon her. The only way she could think to stay awake was by keeping her mind sharp. She figured if she said multiplication tables, out loud to keep her mind moving and awake, she might be able to stay awake long enough for the medicine to work. So all night long your grandma laid in her hospital bed, saying her times tables. Nurses looked at her and shook their heads, thinking she was going delirious and that it wouldn't be very long. But something else happened. She started to get a bit stronger. She wasn't as tired and her mind wasn't as clouded. By the next morning she was wide eyed, although very tired from no sleep at all. It wasn't the same kind of tired the infection was causing. Much to everyone's surprise, your grandma wasn't in a coma that morning and she certainly hadn't left us! After some blood work that was done immediately, the doctor was able to see that grandma had improved a little. She fought and she won!

Now it is important that I tell you grandma hadn't completely won the battle. The infection damaged her liver badly and they only gave her two years to live. But we are talking about your grandmother, and there was no way she was going down without a fight. She loved us very much and she tried, Big C. She tried very hard to make it long enough to see you. Because you see...I wanted you, but your grandma wanted you too! She couldn't wait until the day came when I would get pregnant with you and she would get to hold you in her arms. She had big plans for you. She envisioned a little cart, hooked up to one of the miniature horses and you driving the horse down our long driveway. She wanted to teach you all of your nursery rhymes and your ABCs. She wanted to spoil you, love you, adore you, snuggle you and shout to the world how much she loved her grandbaby. And she tried to make it long enough to do those things with you. So even though they said only 2 years, your grandma fought for another 12 years after that. But this time, when she got sick, she couldn't convince her body to listen to her mind. It had plans of it's own and so on June 18, 1997 at 8:36am your grandma left this world to go walk with the Lord in Heaven.

I was 21. I was going to college with plans of being a veterinarian. I quit going just before grandma died so I could help take care of her and spend time with her and be close to her. I had no boyfriend. Marriage wasn't even a thought in my mind. I hadn't ever even been on a date! I was heartbroken when your grandma left us. About a year and a half later, I met your father and fell in love with him. On August 11, 2001 your daddy and I got married. We were going to get married a week earlier, but that fell on your Grandma's birthday and I wanted that day to be her own, so we bumped it up a week. I was 25 years old then. I was so happy. Because I knew that now, I could have you! I had waited for you for so long. But I had to find the man who would be your daddy first! And he wasn't easy to find! After a few years your daddy and I tried for you. But, you wouldn't come. We tried some more, and you just weren't ready to come yet. After almost 7 years, your daddy and I decided that maybe God had decided that you were supposed to go to someone else and not us. So we decided to take a break from trying so hard. That if and when God decided you were to come to us, then it would happen. Well wouldn't you know it? About 6 months later you decided to show up! Finally! I wanted you so badly and for so long and finally you were coming! I was so nervous and so scared that now that I had you, something might happen and I would lose you. I prayed all the time, asking God to protect you, and keep you healthy.

Big C, I don't think I'll ever be able to accurately describe what being pregnant with you was like for me. It was scary and I was an emotional wreck through most of it. I had just wanted you so, so badly. You were all I ever dreamed of and I was so afraid that it was some kind of dream and that I wouldn't be able to hold you in my arms one day. I cried all the time. I hadn't even seen your face and I loved you more than anything in the world. You would party like crazy in my belly and then scare me half to death when you up and stopped because you wore yourself out and needed a day or two to recuperate. On more than one occasion I found myself sitting in the doctor's office waiting for the doppler to hear your heartbeat, only to have you wallop me just as he walked through the door. How I loved feeling you move inside me. The day I longed for was quickly approaching. The day I got to see your face, hold you in my arms and say, "Hello, Son."

The day you were born...one year ago exactly has been the happiest day of my life. Is it really possible to love something...someone so much? Yes, it is. When the doctor pulled you from my uterus during your c-section and poked your head over the big blue tarp and I saw you for the first time...I cried. Tears of joy sprang from my eyes at the sight of the child I had wanted and waited so long for. The moment they put you in my arms and I looked into your beautiful blue eyes was love at first sight. We had a rough start you and I. You cried all the time because you were hungry and I just didn't make enough milk. You turned yellow with jaundice, couldn't got potty and we spent 2 nights with you in the hospital under those bright blue lights. I cried and I prayed for you to get better. I sobbed each time they pricked your little heel to check your blood and after coming home I finally decided no more and put you on formula. You were much happier then. That was a hard decision for me because I wanted to be able to give you everything you needed. But, I had to do it differently now. Those first weeks were wonderful. I rocked you endlessly. Breathing you in, the smell of your freshly washed hair and skin. I loved giving you those little massages and you falling asleep during them. The late nights of just holding you and looking at you. I just couldn't and I still can't get enough of you.

And Big C, it's going by too fast. Before I know it you will be 21. I cherish the moments that I have with you. Our lazy mornings, where you lay over top my leg, sippy cup in hand watching Mickey Mouse. Or when you curl up against me, a little sigh escaping those pouty lips. It's getting harder to hold you, rock you and snuggle because you just want to move and be a part of everything around you. I look at you and my eyes well up because I can still hear the mew-mew-mew you'd make as you took your bottle. The way you'd smack your little lips when I gave you cereal for the first time. I love how you bend your head down repeatedly because you want forehead kisses or how you give us a cheesy grin when you get naked for bath time. How you strain to look over your daddy's shoulder in the bath tub to smile at me. I love how I can look at you and say, "What are you doing?" and you smile mischievously at me and continue to do something you clearly shouldn't.

Over the course of this year I have watched you grow, develop and learn. Its been a year full of sleepless nights, blissful mornings, aching backs, sweet kisses, warm hugs, snugly Pooh bears, temper tantrums, eyes fluttering to the sound of my singing a lullaby, teething, vaccines, a first cold, colic and gas, bilirubin lights, diapers, bottles, toys and baby wipes. Balmex, pacifiers, rice cereal and rubber duckies. Teething rings and cradle swings. Carters onesies, flannel sleepers with feet, disgusting new foods and yummy bananas as treats. You've 8 teeth with a bicuspid making it's debut. You can pull yourself up to standing and stand by yourself without holding on for quite a while now. You have even taken your first step alone on December 23....tiny as it was. Fondness for icy cold milk, splashing, music and dancing and giggling and laughs that make my heart melt. You have made me complete, Big C. For so long you had been missing, but you are here now and I savor each and every moment with you.

So always know sweet baby...You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know dear, how much I love you.....No one will love you like I do, my baby. Happy Birthday my wonderful, darling, sweet little precious boy.

I love you forever.

Love,

Your Mommy

God's Masterpiece

From graceful lilies pure and white,
God fashioned lovely skin,
Forgetmenots he chose for eyes,
Then formed your baby chin.
He took a tulip bright and red --
'Twas one that did not fade;
A softer, sweeter little mouth
Before was never made.
Another flower next He used --
A rosebud, pink and fair;
Touched it to your dimpled cheeks
And bade it blossom there.
Then with His magic fingers picked
Two morning glories white;
Curled and shaped your little ears,
Soon they were fastened tight.
That crowning bit of golden down
Will soon become your hair;
He gathered pollen from the flowers,
And sprinkled it with care.
For dainty little fingers dear
And precious, tiny toes,
He used slender daisy frills;
A snowdrop made your nose.
This world and all within it
He created here for man;
But Baby was "God's Masterpiece"
Since time and life began!

--Dora Dinsmore

Merry Christmas Eve and 27 Weeks!

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I'm excited...and tired.  Seems I end nearly everything with "I'm tired" these days. *Smiles* But that's OK.  I have a very good reason for it. *wink* I can hardly believe that I'm under the 100 day mark.  We are sitting at 91 days left to go.  I'm headed out of the 2nd Trimester and into the 3rd! Only 3 months left! I still haven't made my mind up if I'm going to just schedule a c-section or try for a VBAC this time.  I'm still at the "Let's wait and see" point.  I do find myself going back and forth with it.  

I'm feeling "Lil' Stinker" move regularly which always puts a smile on my face.  Waiting for a sleepy baby to move has to be one of the most nerve wracking things ever in pregnancy.  Not to mention with it being holiday time, the last thing I would want to have to do is call the doctor (on Christmas) with worries about the babe not moving to drag him out and get walloped just as he walks through the office door.  So I pray baby decides to be active, but not have such a party that he/she rocks themselves out to the point of having to take the whole day off to rest to make up for the partying this weekend.  My next appointment is Monday.  I am assuming my glucose challenge test came back normal, they didn't call me to tell me it was otherwise, so that is a relief.  

You know, I wish I would have done the same thing I see other bloggers have done with their pregnancies...weekly updates on how you are feeling, cravings, milestones and best part of the week, etc.  I would have liked to do that with my first pregnancy too.  But, I was already pregnant when I began this blog, and this time around I was so caught up in Big C I nearly forgot I even had a blog!  Oh well, maybe next time...Lord willing. *smiles*  I am already feeling some aches and pains, nothing on the contraction front, just and occasional squeeze here and there.  My cousin came by today to pick up the Christmas presents she had shipped to my house for her daughters and had to double take.  She was surprised at just how *round* I am.  She just looked at me and said, "Wow, no way to mistake that pregnant belly."  I've popped considerably in the last 2 weeks.  I am waddling like a duck already, knocking things off my table and counter top and bending over....ugh...it's the pits.  I have to be holding onto something or I'm afraid I'll go overboard!  I try to avoid it as much as I can.  However, Big C takes great delight in just flinging EVERYTHING onto the floor these days.  I'm hoping it's a phase. *wink*

This is Big C's very first Christmas.  I'm thrilled to be blessed enough to experience it and discover its wonders with him. He's still too young to understand anything, but I love how I can already see the wonder and beauty of Christmas in those big blue eyes of his.  This is my best Christmas by far.  No, we aren't loaded down with presents, which don’t reflect the true meaning of Christmas anyway.  But we have some well thought out gifts for each other and those we love.  It is never about the quantity but the thought behind what was given.  My greatest gift this year is having a Christmas and a beautiful child to spend it with, for the first time since my mom passed away.  I said if I ever had a child, we would have Christmas, like we used to, again.  And we are.  I am eagerly awaiting settling down tonight, dressing Big C in his Christmas pajamas and tucking him in for the night.  We are charging the battery for the camcorder, the cameras are set and ready to go for tomorrow morning and the stockings have been hung.  Presents have been put under the tree and the last thing I'm waiting on is....baking cookies.  

Ugh.  I have all the stuff.  It's just sitting there on my counter...waiting to be put together.  And I really want to do it...because I want cookies darn it!  And not just any cookie...I was THESE cookies.  I wish they could just make themselves.  I've been preoccupied with getting presents wrapped; taking care of Big C and dealing with a whopper of a sinus infection this week...I just haven't been able to bring myself to do it.  I keep saying"OK, going to do it today" and today comes and goes and it's tomorrow!  But I just don't feel like baking a boatload of cookies while I'm sick.  But I really wanna eat them.  REAL BAD.  Well, they are the yummiest cookies ever!  But anyway....I'm gonna move on, I'm depressing myself over these cookies.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow.  Big C should have a ball ripping open his presents....he loves shredding paper...and eating it.  Sometimes I think he is part goat.  I know I'm going to bawl my eyes out when I put him to bed tonight because of it being the first Christmas and everything.  And I'll probably be bawling my eyes out tomorrow to while I watch him open presents.  Oh!  And his birthday....his 1st BIRTHDAY is 7 DAYS AWAY!  I can't believe it.  My bald baby...who has beautiful blonde hair now...is going to be a year old!  I'm just....I can't believe it went by so fast.  I've been busy putting plans together for his party.  Nearly everything is up in the air except for the theme.  It's a Mickey Mouse Clubhouse Birthday Party.  He LOVES that show and dances to the Hot Dog song.  So while I'm ironing things out for his party, I've been gathering his Mickey Mouse stuff.  

Speaking of Big C and dancing.  There is no doubt that he is my mother's grandson.  Anyone who knew my mom knew how she loved Elvis Presley.  Seriously, I think she was his #1 fan.  I'm rather fond of his music myself and listened to a CD quite a bit while I was preggo with Big C.  But there is a commercial that comes on television for Verizon vs. AT&T and the music is Elvis singing "Blue Christmas."  Every time it comes on, Big C's head jerks around and he starts swinging his head...and hips (naturally...it's Elvis) and really getting into it.  He does the same thing when another commercial comes on with the "All Shook Up" song.  It is hilarious and at the same time just fills my heart because I know...I just know that my Mom is in there somewhere.  She gave him her love of Elvis!  *laughs*  Oh!  Yesterday, he also took his very first step...alone.  Not holding onto anything.  I nearly burst with excitement.  He only did it the one time...but hey...at least he did it!  I'm so proud of him.

I really wish K didn't have to work today.  The train is running a holiday schedule too, which means he won't get home until around 8pm.  Bummer.  I wanted to get some last minute preparations done and could use his help.  But, it will be fine.  I know why my mom loved this holiday so much.  Not only are we celebrating the birth of our Lord and Savior, who was the greatest gift of all.  But it is a time to celebrate all God's blessings, our families, friends and the relationships we have with them.  A time to help those in need and to pray and remember those who have suffered losses and who are less fortunate than ourselves.  So thank you, God, for giving us your only Son, Lord Jesus.  And thank you for giving me all the blessings you have this year and those past.  And I pray that you will bestow blessing upon others in the coming year!  Amen! 

Merry Christmas, and a healthy and prosperous New Year and may God bless you all!

23 Weeks and Counting - Plus Pictures!

First a picture of Big C at Halloween.  He was a lamb!
Returned from another OB appointment some time ago.  Baby is doing well.  The sonogram results were back and everything looked great.  Heart rate was between 140-150.  Oh yeah, by the way.  The sonogram I had done on Saturday, the baby didn't want to give up the goods.  So we don't know if it is a boy or a girl!  SURPRISE!  K had to take the day off work today...without pay...yipee.  Since my blood pressure doesn't always want to cooperate, occasionally I might be sent to L&D to have it monitored for an hour.  With the flu pandemic rolling, the hospital is taking extra precautions, and they should, to protect those who are in them from outsiders bringing the flu in.  So they won't allow me to take Big C back with me while I am monitored.  I don't have a babysitter.  My cousin A is the closest thing I'll get to having someone watch him for me, and she works on Mondays.  My dad would have watched him, but he had work and my brother...well...he gets the willies if left alone with him for more than an hour.  He is better set with older kids...little ones scare him when it comes to being alone and babysitting...lol.  So it left us with K staying home to be with him as our only option.  But it was nice.  Because K is gone 14 hours a day for work (including his hellacious commute) he never has the opportunity to go to any OB appointments with me.  Today was the first time he was able to hear his new baby's heartbeat.  Luckily, my BP was high, but not enough to send me to L&D for monitoring.

I spoke to my OB about this time trying for a VBAC and he said that was just fine.  I really do want the experience.  No, I'd totally skip the labor pain if I could.  But I'd like to experience having that bloody, wiggly screaming darling gift from God slapped up onto my chest as I grab him/her and say my first hello.  I'd like to be able to have the family I care about be there with me as I bring him/her into the world.  And let's face it.  I know other women ask me if I am insane because I want to experience labor (I never went into labor with Big C, then scheduled the section because I was 5 days overdue, he was high in my belly with no intention of dropping and the sonograms said he was 13 pounds!  He was 9lbs. 7oz....just in case you were wondering).  Well, I'd like to pose the same question to them.  Do you really think having a c-section is *easier*?  Having your abdomen sliced open, your guts and muscles shifted around, baby pulled out and then guts and muscles shuffled again and stapled back up?  Honestly ladies....a c-section isn't *that* bad...but a vaginal delivery sure as hell beats a c-section!  I mean come on now!

I have decided that if the baby shows large or hasn't dropped by the time my due date rolls around.  I'm just going to opt for a c-section.  There is no reason for me to be stubborn and put myself or the baby at any more risk than need be.  Sure, I won't have my prime choices for a c-section date (do people really obsess over that?  I mean, if the baby came via vagina you really wouldn't have that much of a choice on birthdays would you?  Seems weird to me.) but that is OK.  Healthy baby is more important than if the baby is born on an even or odd numbered day.  So I'm going to take my time, let my baby grow and develop and see what things look like in January-February.  Perhaps I'll be ready to make a concrete decision on a section then.

We've set up our Christmas tree.  The first one since the Christmas before my mother passed.  Mom really loved Christmas.  It was one of her most favorite holidays.  When she died, it just....was never the same.  It became painful, sad and a bitter reminder of the loss we all have come to know.  I told myself and everyone else that if the Lord had blessed me with a child, then things would change.  We would have a real Christmas again.  Mom would have wanted it that way.  K also put up decorations outside and trimmed the house in lights.  He took me by the hand last night, after he had finished and walked me around to the front.  And all I could really do was stand there and cry.  It looks beautiful.  My mom would have loved it.  It was really hard this time last year.  I was expecting Big C on December 26th.  And I really wanted her to be here, to see him, to know him and to love him.  I wanted him to know her, love her and see her the way I and everyone who knew her did.  But it's more difficult this year.  Because this year, Big C *is* here, the tree *is* up, and the house *is* decorated.  And in every strand of lights, branch of tree, ornament, bow, nativity scene and note of Christmas carols she *is* there.  I really miss her.  A lot.

Thanksgiving was wonderful.  I have so many wonderful things to be thankful for...and I am.  I am truly blessed and God is wonderful!  My life isn't perfect and trust me, I have hardships...but when I gaze into the face of my darling boy and I feel the karate moves of my darling yet to be born, and I watch the faces of my father, brother and husband as they talk, play and snuggle with Big C all I can think is how wonderful, giving and amazing God is and how fortunate I am.

I'm going to go for now.  My back is beginning to hurt a little.  My OB said everything you experience in your first pregnancy, you usually feel it sooner in the next one.  Well, I'm feelin' it!  Wowza.  My ribs are the worst.  Holy Hannah do they scream by the end of the day.  But it's all so worth it.  I just realized that I have been pregnant for the last two 4th of Julys, Labor Days, Halloweens, Thanksgivings and Christmas'!  Well, no wonder I'm feeling it.  I'll have been pregnant for 18 months out of 24 when baby #2 gets here!  *Grins*  I'm so bleeping happy to be me!!!!

Realizations

It's funny how becoming a mother can really change your life. These changes you gladly accept too. Even though at times you just want to cry or collapse (mostly from sheer exhaustion). You do these things and would do them over and over because that little person is unequivocally the most important thing in your life and you'd do *anything* for him/her. Now, I know I said mother. Don't worry guys, I'm not leaving you out. I'm not a father, so I can't speak from personal experience, therefore I am writing about what I personally have gone through so far. I've been a mommy for just over 7 weeks and in that short time, I've realized some stuff.

• There is no such thing at *sleeping through the night*. Sure, your little one may conk out for 5-6 hour stretches, but you find yourself starved for sleep and haggard, staring bleary-eyed and at him making sure he is still breathing.

• Only eat food that tastes good cold. Inadvertently your little angel will need you right when you sit down to eat something, and will continue to need you until the food has lost all it's heat. *This goes for coffee too*

• Rocking, bouncing, lifting, cradling and carrying a baby around with you everywhere you go makes working out at the gym a piece of cake. Let's face it, at the gym you have a 30 minute workout. With a child, you'll be hauling him/her around all day long, for at least a year or two!

• Your photographic memory is a thing of the past. Finding that you can't remember the simplest things is disconcerting. Get used to it, it seems to get worse before it gets better. With your mind being on your baby nearly 100% of the time, there is no room to think about anything else let alone remember it.
  

• Sleeping (when it actually happens) with your body contorted into something that resembles a pretzel becomes second nature since you find yourself sharing the bed with both hubby and now your little darling. To avoid him/her from being rolled on, falling off the bed or a host of other things, you figure out ways to twist yourself to accommodate the new bed arrangement. Your husband on the other hand still retains his normal sleeping position. -.-

• You never have enough pacifiers.

• Long hot showers are a luxury you can no longer afford. It's more like jumping in an out without fulling rinsing the shampoo out of your hair because you thought you heard the baby cry.

• You quickly learn to change diapers at warp speed. Accidents happen. Especially with boys who like to aim and fire only seconds before the new diaper is on.

• Take lots of pictures and savor every single second you have with your little angel because before you know it 7 weeks will have gone by....then 7 years, 17 years and you'll wonder where you baby went.

I still find myself wondering where the time went. It's hard to believe 7 weeks went by so quickly. I'm sure I'll be adding to this list of realizations as time passes and I'm sure I've left quite a few things out. You know, since I can't remember anything as mentioned above. ;) One thing I can say for sure about being a mother. Until now, I never thought it was possible to love something so much.

-MoM-