Thinking of you . . .

Just a quick post for Mother's Day. On my way to mass this morning, I was thinking about my friends through blogging and in real life. I was so happy thinking of those of you who are celebrating Mother's Day as mothers for the first time, and my heart ached for those of you who are still waiting or missing the babies you've lost. I want you all to know you're in my thoughts and prayers today!

Has it been a week already?

1. So, you know the crazy week I mentioned last week? I think I doomed myself, because the craziness really began last Thursday morning. It continued unabated until midnight this Wednesday. Remind me not to exaggerate next time by calling a couple of crazy days a "crazy week."

2. Unfortunately, the craziness continued on Monday with Sarah falling down the stairs and hitting her head on the ceramic tile at the bottom. I'll pass on that kind of excitement in the future, thankyouverymuch. Thank God, she is fine--a little bruised, but fine. My heartrate is almost back to normal, too. Mr. X was working from home, and the babysitter was here. She thought the gate at the top of the stairs was closed, but it had bounced instead of latching shut, and Sarah pulled it open and rolled (thank God she rolled) all the way down. She cried for about 15 seconds, and that was it. We grownups, meanwhile, freaked out. Mr. X kept trying to call me at work, where I had my ringer turned off. I had to sneak out of class multiple times to try to call him back, and when I finally got through, he had already talked to the doctor (Have I mentioned that I love our doctor? Only a million times? Ok, then.) and concluded she was all right. I still left work early to come home and wake her up from her nap. Even though Mr. X and the babysitter had already woken her up once.

3. About two hours after I got home on Monday, I was chasing Nicholas in the living room when I heard Sarah whimper in the babies' room next door. She had managed to collapse the wooden folding chair in there, and it was lying on the floor next to her.

4. So, I took the kids outside. The doctor called me back (I had called to ask if we needed to monitor Sarah while she slept that night. I love our doctor. One million and one.), and while I was talking to him, I saw Nicholas putting something in his mouth. It turned out to be the cap from the propane tank for our gas grill. I didn't even mention it to the doctor. I just picked Nick up, carried him back inside, washed his hands, and called poison control. Of course, it was fine. So, I owe my kids' guardian angels some big thank-yous for Monday. And it only took me four hours after they fell asleep to relax.

5. Tuesday was pretty calm. Then, on Wednesday, I got a ticket on the way to work. Argh! It was for not stopping when I turned right on red at a stoplight. I'm pretty sure I stopped. But, anyway, then I was running late for work. So, instead of parking at my assigned lot four blocks away from my building, I parked in the pay lot across the street. The wind was gusting so hard that it threw me off-balance while I was standing in line for the meter. I finally got to the front of the line, started to pay, and a gust of wind picked up the traffic ticket in my purse and blew it a block away. Seriously--a block away and into a parking garage in five seconds! At that point, I was late and I had to drag all my junk a block away to the parking garage and start looking under cars for my stupid ticket. I didn't find it. Since I couldn't go back home and crawl into bed, I figured I would entertain people at work with the story for the rest of the day.

6. Then, Wednesday night, Sarah, who is usually sound asleep by 8:00 (though she does wake up to nurse several times, of course), turned into All Night Party Girl and stayed up till midnight. And thus ended my crazy week.

7. And, by popular demand, here are a few baby pictures:

Nicholas thoughtfully arranges books on the floor:


Sarah does not much enjoy her first taste of applesauce:


And the best shot in my attempt at a nice picture of the two kids on Easter Sunday ends up looking reminiscent of the Wanted poster for a gang of Wild-West outlaws:

More quick takes are here.

Seven Quick Takes

1. I've been meaning to join in the 7 quick takes for ages. I've also been meaning to blog regularly for ages . . .

2. It's been a crazy week. Exhibit A: Took Sarah to the ENT for a follow-up appointment yesterday. To make a looong story short, she had a sore under her tongue (that we think was caused by her tongue rubbing against her bottom teeth while nursing) that grew a benign (thank God!!) mass. The mass was removed and biopsied on Good Friday. She handled the general anesthesia and hospital stay better than I did. It turned out to be just granulation tissue. But when I took her in for her follow-up yesterday, it seems to be returning. Argh! Any insights would be welcome! So far, we've seen our family doctor, two ENTs, a dentist (who ground the sharp edges of her bottom teeth so they're not quite so sharp). We've contacted La Leche League and a lactation consultant, who's also going to contact a naturopath.

3. Exhibit B: Arrived home from the doctor yesterday, and Mr. X and I got ready to go to work when we discovered that a clog in the waste pipe leading from the kitchen sink was causing the water to back up through the waste pipe vent. So dirty water was pouring through the family room ceiling below. Great.

4. Exhibit C: Woke up this morning to discover that Wonderdog had pooped on rugs in the living room, kitchen, and dining room and tracked it all over. The rugs are in the garage while we decide whether we'll take them to be cleaned or throw them away. On the up side, our wood floors are REALLY clean now.

5. We had a great weekend last weekend. We got lots done around the house, had a lot of fun with the kids, and got together with friends. We had dinner with a family who has a daughter exactly the same age as Nicholas. She's a very sweet little girl, and she loves her baby dolls. She was a bit concerned that Nicholas might try to take them. By the time we had been there five minutes, however, Nick walked past the doll highchair where the favored doll was sitting, gave the doll a look of mild interest, said "woof-woof," and continuted on his way. Sarah only discovered the baby dolls about five minutes before we left, and she reports that a nice baby doll head makes an excellent teether.

6. Five more weeks till summer! I can't wait to be home with the kids all summer long. It will be a good test to see if I would love being a stay-at-home-mom as much as I think. (This is not to say that I think in any way that it would be easy, but it just feels so much more important than anything else I could be doing right now.) Right now, we can't swing it financially for me to be at home all the time, but I think this summer will be a time for us to figure out a lot of things. We've realized that we really need to set goals for our family. For so long, we were really focused on having kids. Now that we have them, our perspectives on a lot of things have changed. I'm hoping the summer will be a time of discernment for us.

7. It's snowing!

More quick takes are here!

Non-update

Wow, I can't believe it's been almost three months since I've updated. Things are generally good. The kids are great. I'm really struggling with what I should be doing. I absolutely hate leaving the kids to go to work. Hate it. This morning, I left while Mr. X was still home. As I tried to make my lunch (Mr. X was in the bathroom), both kids grabbed my legs and cried. I just lost it. I want to be home with them so much. Right now, we can't make it work financially. But it's just so much harder than I thought it would be. I don't even work that many hours, and we do some tag-teaming, and I do some work at night when the kids are sleeping, but still. I feel like I'm running constantly to get half of what I'd like to do done. Anyway. I have a lot to think through, but nothing's going to change immediately.

Checking in

Well, it seems like forever since I've posted. Things have been really busy around here. I went back to work on January 4th. The first several times I was in my office, I was really shaky and thought I just might burst into tears if anyone looked at me funny. I really wish that I didn't have to work, but I do. Fortunately, we have schedules flexible enough that we can get by with part-time babysitters. I can work from home a fair amount even when the babysitters are here, so I can nurse Sarah while I type and take a break to put Nicholas down for his nap and things like that. I'm starting to get more comfortable with that, and I'm counting the days till summer when I can be with them all the time.

The kids are doing great. Sarah's six months old as of Sunday. She has one tooth and is working on a second. She seems to be bypassing sitting up in favor of crawling, and is far more mobile than I thought she would by at this age! She's sleeping about 12-13 hours at night (waking up several times to nurse, of course) and really doesn't like to nap during the day. At six months, she's doubled her birth weight, so she's now 16 lbs. 10 oz. and 26.5 inches long. My family is stunned, since that's what I weighed at 11 months. It's so much fun to make her laugh, and she's started patting me on the back when I pick her up.

Nicholas is almost 18 months, and we'll finalize his adoption in a month. He's starting to learn more English words. We're working on parts of the body, and he can reliably identify his belly button and usually his nose, ears, toes, thumb, and knees. What really cracks me up right now is that Mr. X "beeps" his nose, but he says "a-00-gah" when he does it. So, now Nicholas can't actually say "nose," but he points to his nose and says "a-oo-gah" all the time. He also loves to say "dog" and "woof-woof." But right now, everything says "woof-woof" . . . including the babies in his favorite book. Yesterday, I had to go in to the office, and he actually grabbed my legs, looked up at me, and shouted "mama!" I hate to leave when he's unhappy, but it seems like a good thing (attachment-wise) that he doesn't want me to go.

So, anyway, I've been a basket case since my last post about leaving them and going to work. I've been dreading it for a long time, and I've gone through such a jumble of emotions. I'm sad and worried about leaving them, guilty when I sit and enjoy a few minutes alone, embarrassed and overwhelmed with all of the tasks that don't get done, thrilled with the kids and how much I love them . . . it's been a lot to sort through.

Well, that's all for now. Time to hang up some laundry and figure out what else needs to be done before bed!

Hooray for nice nurses

Sarah had her 4-month checkup yesterday. I was getting her ready, and really wanting to appear to be Super Competent Mom at the doctor's office. Because it's so dry here, you're only supposed to bathe babies 2 or 3 times a week. It was bath day, so I was getting her all ready. I started working on her cradle cap. Hate the cradle cap! I think I've got it all, and then I'll see her head in a different light, and I'm horrified that I missed a ton of it. Mr. X thinks I'm obsessed. So, I was trying to loosen the cradle cap so I could get it off while she was in the tub. Finally, Mr. X said "um, she just has to be clean, right?" Fine, fine. Point taken.

So, I gave her her bath and got her all dressed. I grabbed an extra outfit because she did have a blowout once at the doctor's office, and I wanted to be the Prepared Mom. We finally made it (late), and I walked in . . . and realized I had left the diaper bag at home. Great. I really need to remember these when I want to impress people that that whole "pride" thing really doesn't work out for me!

The assistant weighed and measured her, and then, while we were waiting for the doctor, I nursed her. And then she pooped. Great. Thank God, I had extra diapers and wipes in the car. I ducked out of the exam room (with the baby in her diaper and wrapped in a blanket) and said to the assistant, "I'm just running out to the car. I have extra diapers out there, and she just pooped." The guy in the waiting room was laughing as I ran by. At least he wasn't laughing in a mean way.

So, she's 14 lbs. 15 oz. How serious are the bassinet makers about that 15 pound weight limit? She's in a cosleeper bassinet in our room (just for when I'm not in the room--when we sleep, she's in the bed with us), and then we have a pack-n-play set up as the bassinet, and she likes to look at the mobile and roll around in there every once in a while. But, of course, they both have a 15-pound limit. I don't know what to do in the bedroom once the bassinet's gone. Her crib's a little bit big to fit next to the bed. We've thought about just putting rails on the bed so that she can sleep on the bed if we're not in the room, but the mattress is soft enough that we worry about her being in the bed unsupervised. (When I'm in the bed, she lies on her side, right up against me. If I move even an inch or two away, she scoots over in her sleep until she's right next to me again. And she's still swaddled for sleeping, so she really can't roll in her sleep yet, since her arms are constrained.) Right now, I'm thinking of putting a firmer mattress (like a little pack-n-play mattress or bassinet mattress) on top of our mattress and then putting rails on the bed. Oh, well. We'll see.

She's also 25.5 inches long, which means she's long for her weight--and tall! Clearly, she takes after her father. She'll probably be taller than me by the time she's 10.

Today, I took her for her immunizations. Because of our insurance, we take the kids to the HMO instead of to our family doctor (my NaPro doctor) for their immunizations. Thank God, we got a good nurse. We're doing the Dr. Sears staggered vaccine schedule, so she's had immunizations at 2, 3, and 4 months now.

At 2 and 4 months, she's had the DTaP shot and the oral rotavirus vaccine. At the 2 month appointment, I didn't know what to expect, since I hadn't done this before. I had Sarah on my lap, and the nurse stuck the ampule with the rotavirus vaccine into her mouth, squirted all the liquid in at once, and then squeezed her jaw shut. The poor little thing screamed, and half the liquid came out, and the nurse said "that's fine. That always happens. She got enough of it." OK . . . Then, she had me put her down on the table for the shot, and she cried and cried.

Today, we had a different nurse. She squeezed a little tiny drop of the rotavirus stuff into her mouth and let her taste it and swallow it, and then gave her a little bit at a time until she'd had the whole thing. It took a couple of minutes, but she was happy and got a lot more of the vaccine inside of her. I mean, it's sugary, so most babies should like it if they get to actually taste it, shouldn't they? Then I held her on my lap for the shot, and she didn't cry at all! I couldn't believe it! Not one little tear. She immediately turned her head and started rooting, so she definitely wanted to be comforted, but there was no crying! What a difference! It really made me annoyed with that first nurse, though.

Next week, Nicholas has to have his second dose of H1N1 vaccine and the varicella vaccine. Ugh. He's really good about getting shots, but I hate to see him cry after he's had the shot. He's amazingly tough for such a little guy. He cries, but only for a few seconds, and then he's back to his happy little self. But, especially since he hasn't been home for very long, I hate to hold him while they give him the shots, because I feel like he's just learning to trust me.

So, wow--two posts in one day! Pretty crazy. I should run. The kids are asleep, and I want to make some progress on the screen we're making to cover the railing in our living room where the spindles are too far apart. Here's hoping for a good night's sleep!

Birth Story Part I

When I went to bed on Wednesday night (July 22nd), I was really hoping we'd be going to the hospital the next day. My induction was scheduled for 6am on Friday, and I really, really did not want to be induced.

I woke up at 4am. I had been having contractions off and on since the 10th, but the contractions were finally starting to feel uncomfortable. I decided to time them. I dozed off and on while sort of timing contractions until 4:30. By then, the contractions were about 3-4 minutes apart. I got up for water and to see if changing position slowed them down. It didn’t. I got back into bed with the Bradley method book to check out the signs of labor. Mr. X half woke up and we had the following conversation:

Mr. X: Are you OK?
Me: I think this might be it. The contractions are uncomfortable, and they're three or four minutes apart.
Mr. X: OK (rolls over and goes back to sleep).

Hmm. Clearly not really awake.

I kept on reading the Bradley manual and timing contractions. Then, at 5:05 I felt a sharp pain. It felt--really--like the baby had punched me in the cervix. Then I felt the water come rushing out.
This time, I woke up Mr. X for real and told him “this is it—contractions are 3 or 4 minutes apart and my water just broke.” I managed to scoot myself out of bed and walked like a penguin (with my knees together, that is) to the bathroom and into the tub. I managed not to ruin the mattress or the carpet, thank you very much.

Once I was in the tub, I was a bit concerned because the water was light brown, like weak tea, and there was a lot of it. It really broke with a gush. Mr. X called the doula to let her know what was up. I talked to her, too, and called back a few minutes later because I was concerned about whether there was too much pink in the fluid—she told me it was normal and that we should wait for a good pattern of active labor before going to the hospital. In spite of all my reading, I wasn't sure what that actually meant. She told me that, at that point, I wouldn’t be able to talk to her while I was having a contraction.

I hung up and got back in the tub. I was a bit worried because I hadn’t felt the baby move in a little while, and I wasn’t sure if she had moved since my water broke, so I started drinking a root beer in hopes that the sugar would make her move around. I started to feel her move pretty soon, so that calmed me down a lot. Mr. X brought me a stool to sit on in the tub. After each contraction, more fluid came out. I realized that my fears that my water would break and I would think I only had wet my pants were groundless, since there seemed to be tons of it. (Apparently, the body keeps producing amniotic fluid until the baby's actually born--I didn't know that before.)

Mr. X brought me a chicken sandwich and a sports drink so I’d have some energy, and I ate them in the tub. After a little while, I showered and put on the clothes I had put aside for labor—yoga pants and a t-shirt—and got back in bed. Mr. X started timing contractions. The contractions got to be stronger and more uncomfortable, but not closer together. During the relaxation practice we did for our Bradley classes, back rubs and guided relaxation/massage (where he would say “you’re in a hot shower and the water’s running down your arms . . .” while massaging my arms, and that sort of thing) were what I liked best. Mr. X did some of that in between contractions, but during contractions I was OK with him just keeping a hand on me, not doing anything that would jostle me at all. Between 9 and 10, we decided to get ready to go to the hospital. Mr. X loaded the car and called the doctor and the doula. The hospital’s about half an hour away. My parents were all excited and decided to follow us to the hospital after a little while, expecting there would be a baby by afternoon. It turned out to be quite a bit longer than they expected . . .