7 months

My little guy is still in 9-12 month clothing and size 4 diapers.

We've completely stopped breastfeeding now. I was down to only nursing him in the morning or before bed once a day or every other day last month. I deeply miss snuggling up with my baby in bed and nursing him to sleep, but I think it's truly easier for him to have more of a predictable amount of food now. He's noticeably less stressed.

He's still on the Alimentum formula and doing amazing. He was eating about five 6 oz bottles and one or two "meals" a day. But, just recently, we've changed that a bit and started more of a schedule with his eating & naps, because he starts daycare on December 16th (more on that later).

Our current attempt:

6:00 am: 7 oz bottle

7:30 am: 2.5 oz prunes

8:00 am: Nap

10:00 am: 7 oz bottle

11:00 am: Nap

12:00 pm: 3.5 oz fruit

2:00 pm: 7 oz bottle

3:00 pm: Nap

4:00 pm: 3.5 oz veggies

6:00 pm: 7 oz bottle

6:30-7 pm: Bath & bedtime

Once he starts daycare, the times will have to be moved up a bit. I will have to get him up at 5 am to feed him and get him ready, because he will have to be at daycare by 6 am. The two things we are still having a bit of a hard time with are the afternoon nap and bedtime, though.

Milk-Be-Gone

Bit the bullet. The cold lead seared my teeth, but I did it. I bit it. I'm finally weaning. It's bittersweet in so many ways. Ah, let me count the ways... one one thousand, two one thousand...

 

I feel good about my decision considering what I put myself through to get this far. It took me 2 months of hardcore commitment just to make enough milk for a newborn. It seems like I was always behind. I maxed out at making about one ounce per hour. That might have even been sufficient for some babies, but I have a big kid! I'm now at about half of an ounce an hour, and only nursing (or pumping at work) about twice a day. We'll see where it goes...

6 months

Weight: 21 lbs 3 oz (98.2%)

Length: 26.75" (57.9%)

Head: 45.5 cm (96.4%)

 

 

My baby! My itty bitty baby, born a mere 6 months ago, is on his way! 6 months old. Wow! I always see/hear parents marvel at how their child is 8 years old, oh but "just yesterday" they were learning to crawl. Honesty out in the open here, I was always like "Really?! You didn't realize your kid grew up?! Ok..." But I get it now. I soooo get it now! I get so many parent things that I never understand. Even as badly as I wanted kids, there were just things that I didn't get. This was one of them. It happens fast. As in 1.21 gigawatts-fast.

We are now in size 4 diapers! The size 3s leaked a few times, and they were getting snug. So, we went up a size, and what a difference that made. No more leaks, and the tabs aren't being stretched to their limits. He is still wearing mostly 9 month clothes (minus pants). His pants have to be at least 12 months to fit comfortably.

Does this diaper make my butt look big?

 

We decided to try pureed peas again since he refused them last time. He took them without hesitation. We've been experimenting with letting Luke feed himself some things.

Mmmmm nanas

I made a huge mess with oatmeal

Daddy, more!!!

Prunes.

 

Luke had some bumps on his gums and a recessed, white spot on the top where a central incisor would be. We were sure he was finally teething. Gnawing on everything, drooling, crying. Seemed to fit the bill, no? No is right. Pediatrician confirmed it was gingival cysts. Poor kid. It's one thing after another for him. No teefies yet. 

He had some bouts of screaming out, but we discovered it was his reflux acting up again. He's back on ranitidine (Zantac) twice a day. WONDER DRUG!

 

We made the switch with his formula. We are finally on Similac Alimentum (hypoallergenic). OMG. A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! We have our baby back. I say back. I pretty much mean the baby we never had. He doesn't fuss the entire time he is awake, gas is completely gone, no more diarrhea, no more congestion. I almost want to cry at the very thought that he has been allergic to cow's milk protein this whole time. Bad mommy. Uneducated, uninformed mommy. Thank God, I'm self-sufficient and able to educate myself! If we ever have another baby, at least I will know early on! I'm still breastfeeding with zero dairy in my diet (I miss ice cream and cheese sooooo bad).

 

Drum roll, my friends........ Pitter ROLLED OVER! Ha! I seriously thought the kid was going to skip it. He was sitting unsupported before he even rolled over. He's so back-asswards. Two days before he turned 6 months (on my MIL's birthday-how special), he rolled from tummy to back. Then, a couple of days later, back to tummy. Good boy. Mommy and daddy were stupid proud. We cheered and clapped like it was his first steps or something. He is still attempting to crawl, but he can't get on his knees yet. He can pick his head and butt up high in the air, just not at the same time. In due time my little Pitter. In due time.

 

  

Luke is so ticklish. I love it. He laughs out loud and squeals when we tickle his legs or ribs. It's almost torturous how much we do it to him, but his laugh is the best sound in the whole World!

 

We bought a jumperoo. Pitter loves it! He goes crazy! We just laugh and laugh. I must say, this is the best age so far. Newborns are cute (most of them, anyway), but 6 month olds are just freaking awesome. His personality is really shining through. I can finally distinguish things, like cries. I know his "I'm hungry. Feed me NOW!" cry, his "I'm sleepy" cry, his "Hold me" and "I'm uncomfortable" cries. It's a different world for all of us. A better world. A happy, loving world. One we have all been dreaming of. Ensue cheesy music with a slow-mo montage.

 

I haven't discussed sleeping. What is that anyway?! Guess that's why I haven't discussed it. In part, because it's almost embarrassing to say Luke still isn't sleeping through the night. The other part is that I'm sleep-deprived and known to get moody when talking about it.

I live with 3 male dogs, a husband, and a son. Lot of balls going on in this house. Well, minus two of my dogs-whispers-had those puppies snipped long ago. It took a lot of balls to do what I did. So, I gathered all of what's left of the balls in my house, and laid Luke on his tummy to sleep one night. The exact date is unknown (sleep deprivation, remember?). All of the bells and whistles for SIDS went off in my head when I just imagined him sleeping on his tummy. SIDS is much like a fire-red, demonic dragon in the far corner of the room. A dragon about the size of a German Shepard breathing heavily with a rasping exhale. I could feel it's orange, glowing eyes on me as I laid Luke belly down. I could imagine the drool rolling from it's scaly lips, just waiting to gobble up my son. My heart pounded. I hovered over my baby with my stainless steel body armor and shield guarding him for the longest. Eventually, I felt like I could lay the shield beside him and ease into my own bed, close by. I got up several times to make sure that dragon was staying in his corner, where he belonged. Seriously, the kid slept 5 hours straight! FOR-THE-FIRST-TIME-EVER! I was in utter dismay. I've been trying the no-cry sleep solution, and it's been working poorly. My son heavily relies on one of us to soothe him back to sleep. Don't get me wrong, I love when that kid falls asleep in my arms. I love to snuggle and kiss him. It's like gold for Josh and I. What's NOT gold is getting up a million times to a screaming child. I feel like a helpless, little mouse hiding under my covers from a hungry cat at the sound of his first whimper. I cringe every time. I climb out of bed, reassure him that I'm there, and pat him until he falls back asleep. Sometimes it works quickly. Sometimes it takes half of an hour, and I'm passing out trying to bend over his pack-n-play and pat him. The kicker, after "sleeping" about 3 or 4 hours total, I'll pull a 13-hour-shift (it's been as long as 17 hrs), come home, and do it again. Luke isn't sleeping well, I'm not sleeping well, Josh is and isn't (I usually get up 8 out 10 times-for example). I'm contemplating the Ferber method. I've tried once or twice, but caved after 5 minutes crying my eyes out. It's not for the faint of heart. I keep telling myself that Luke needs the sleep more than I do. He's a growing boy, and he needs sleep to replenish and grow. As for now, he is sleeping on his tummy happily-and the dragon has left the room. He can roll over now, and adjust himself as needed. Anytime he buries his face, he moves quickly. He hates having his nose covered and uses his instincts like lightening. Good little boy, that Pitter.

 

5 months

Weight: 21 lbs (99.7%)

Length: 26" (57.9%)

Head: 45.5 cm (98.2%)

I just realized Pitter will be celebrating birthdays on Friday the 13th every now and again. Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays. I love scary shit. I've been a haunted house lover as long as I can remember. My husband, on the other hand, polar opposite. It will be interesting to see which direction Pit goes on this. On this Friday the 13th he is going in the direction of almost half of a year old! Five months, baby! Yeah!

Luke has found his feet. He's been grabbing them every chance he gets when he is on his back. He shows out in the bathtub and splashes like crazy, then grabs his feet in approval of himself. He looks at his hands now, too. He's been clasping them together for a while, but now he intently looks at them.

He is wearing mostly 9 month clothes now. He can wear some 12 month stuff. His monthly picture is in a 12 month onesie. I had to buy a pair of shorts in 18 months because his legs and belly are on the plump side. He is still in a size 3 diaper, but I'm not sure how much longer. They are fitting more snugly these days! 

Pitter hates peas, but loves sweet potatoes. We've only fed him purées about once a week the past month. I'm still breastfeeding and supplementing when needed. This feeding shit is no joke. It's hard! He's had diarrhea a lot lately (not from illness), and finding the source has been maddening. I don't eat dairy, but I still have soy, wheat, nuts, and other potential allergens. I was going to stop breastfeeding, but when I pumped and dumped my milk out, I held back tears. Something tells me that means I'm not ready for that yet. I experimented with strictly formula for 2 days, but he still had diarrhea. I think it's the new sensitive formula we switched to. He's had congestion, coughing, and diarrhea without an explanation since we switched his supplemental formula. His Ped wrote it off as viral, but, oddly, he never had a fever. This may be why his weight gain slowed down this month, or he may finally be leveling off a bit. I'm going to switch his formula again to that really expensive shit. The hypoallergenic stuff that requires a second mortgage to finance it if you're strictly formula feeding? Yeah, that stuff. I'm tired of my baby being miserable and fussy and uncomfortable. Josh and I are going to request a cow's milk protein allergy test at his 6 month check-up.

Luke checks every new thing out with his mouth. He drools all over it, then places it in his mouth. My assumption is that he is seeing how different textures feel and taste on his lips, gums, and tongue. The drool is his body's way of coating things with germ-fighting enzymes to protect him when he is in exploration mode, so explore on my miniature little scientist. 

He is still gnawing on his hands and fingers a lot, but I still do not see "white caps" on his gums or feel teeth. He sucks his left thumb when he is sleepy. It's adorable. Josh and I both were thumb suckers. I was a righty, Josh a lefty. Luke looks to be falling in daddy's shoes on this one. Thumb sucking is cute, but it can be a bad thing down the road. Josh and I both had difficulty stopping in our childhood. I even had to wear a "bridge" in the roof of my mouth to stop when I was a kid. And it was placed in my mouth semi-permanently like braces by a dentist. But the adorableness (and not having to find, wash, and keep up with a pacifier) is the worst non-deterrent ever right now. Plus, Luke wouldn't take a pacifier if you forced him.

Pitter prefers to sit up most of the time. He can sit up supported very well. He sits up unsupported well for short periods. And he still loves to stand. He picks his feet up as if to walk, but doesn't quite make the steps correctly, yet. On his back, he pulls his knees up to his chest (usually to grab his feet) and rolls to either side freely. He hates being on his tummy still and refuses to roll onto it. When he is on his tummy, he holds his head up high and supports himself with his forearms and elbows. He can do mini push-ups and support himself with his hands, but prefers not to. He's probably further behind than most babies his age is this area, because he has despised tummy time since day 1. He doesn't roll from tummy to back; doesn't even attempt it. He has been trying so hard to crawl, though. He can make a triangle out of his body by planting his toes, straightening his legs, and pushing his butt straight up in the air. He has been making "crawling motions" with his legs. He grabs the play mat and tries to pull himself forward by kicking his legs. He clearly needs more upper body strength, though. He has a LOT of weight to be trying to pull. He will go in a 360 degree circle on his belly. I think our next big milestones will be sitting unsupported and crawling.

Sick Baby

It's inevitable. Children get sick. They must. Part of survival for us is immunity. We must be exposed to illnesses to build immunities to them. This is a strong reason I have for actually wanting my son in daycare (only second to socialization). I have been very protective up to this point. With him being premature (and spending time in NICU), his Pediatrician made it overly clear that an illness in the first two months of his life could very easily result in hospitalization. No one touched him without washing their hands. We placed a blanket over his carseat if we had to take him in public. Visitations were very limited, and we absolutely kept him away from small children during that time. But since he's gotten bigger, we've relaxed our stringent routine and allowed some exposure to the World. I have my limits with explorations, but if I feel it is safe, by all means, he may explore. He has been putting everything in his mouth (especially his hands/thumb). And, for the most part, I let him. It is how he discovers the World around him. Why not?

Last week he started getting congested. In my ignorance, I did not know babies could not have pollen/dander/etc. allergies yet. I thought that could have been the culprit as he hasn't had a fever at all.

I was wrong. 

He got his first cold. Viral. He went to the doctor twice. I'm still very nervous about him getting RSV. But the doctor said this was not the case. Phew. That's all that I needed to know. I can take care of him well enough to aid in recovery of the common cold, but not something as serious as RSV this young. 

He's been stuffy and coughs occasionally. He can't sleep lying flat. He's been clingy and wanting to be held almost constantly. He's been fussier than usual for sure. But in the midst of his cat-like purring breaths, he will smile and laugh. And it captures my heart like a small rodent in the talons of a prestigious hawk. 

He's so amazing. Even when he's sick. 

4 months

Weight: 18 lbs 9 oz (99.7%)

Length: 25" (57.9%)

Head: 43 cm (98.2%)

Luke is laughing out loud, grasping his hands, and making lots of funny faces. He smiles at new people. He laughs and smiles at daddy more than anyone. Daddy has the magic touch when it comes to rocking him to sleep. He still isn't sleeping through the night. He usually wakes up once or twice for a small feeding, then back to sleep until I wake him up to nurse before I go to work. 

He likes sucking his left thumb (when he can find it). He chews on his fingers and drools... A LOT. His Pediatrician looked in his mouth, felt his gums, and said it didn't look like he was teething yet. 

He usually takes 5-6 oz of breastmilk in a bottle when his babysitter watches him. His doctor said 30 oz of milk a day is the  maximum he should have now. He said it was ok to start him on stage 1 foods now, and he could have as much as 2 oz at a feeding twice a day. It's exciting to think of feeding him solids already, but I'm still up in the air. The "golden age" for starting solids is 6 months. Our Pediatrician agreed. But with Luke's weight and his appetite, it is hard to keep him at 30 oz/day. As long as breastmilk/formula stays his primary source of nutrition, we may try it. We just switched his supplemental formula from Similac Advance to Similac Sensitive to see if it helps with his sensitivity to dairy. It's still a milk-based formula, but lactose free. I am still not having any dairy in my diet, and that is going well for him. I experiemented with milkshakes (Ahhhhhh I MISSED them!!!), and he ended up with diarrhea and just not acting like himself. I felt terrible. No more dairy for this momma.

Luke is wearing mostly 6-9 month clothes. 3-6 month onesies are too tight on him. Some 6 month clothes fit, Some 9 month clothes fit. 

He hasn't rolled over yet. The Pediatrician said the chunky ones usually rollover later. Ha! That's ok. I love his chunky little butt. I give him a little nudge, and he rolls right over by himself; he just won't initiate it. He isn't thrilled about being on his tummy either. He tolerates it much better than he used to, though. The kid loves to stand. Any time we go to pick him up, he straightens his legs and pulls himself up to standing. 

He 'talks' up a storm. He says 'momma' a lot. He isn't saying it purposefully yet, but I enjoy hearing it just the same. It's hard to keep up with the reality of how fast he is growing up. 

Bathroom Spider

I went a step above becoming a juror of my peers today and went straight to being the judge. I let 2 spiders live. Yes, me. I'm notoriously afraid of spiders. Anything with more than four legs (or no legs at all, for that matter) freak me out!

I wash Luke's bottles in my bathroom sink exclusively. I've dedicated my vanity to it. I fill the sink with hot water and some natural, organic, hippie dish liquid soap or something like that, and I let the bottles soak. It's like a nice spa day for the bottles. All detoxing and shit. Or so I hope since I fill them with Pit's milk. On two separate occasions, I've found a flea in the water. Yikes! Can't ingesting those nasty little things can give you tape worms?? Ugh even more gross. I have 3 dogs. Fleas, dog hair, that stuff is inevitable. But in my bottles' spa water?! Damn. I found some new little bug in the toasty, bubbly water today. Damn. I was so frustrated. 

Not only do I kill spiders in my home out of fear, they are also a delightful buffet for house centipedes and those top my list of scary, disgusting shit. They have 567,389 legs and can run 687 MPH. Scary shit I tell ya! *Shudders* I HATE them, and I don't want their food in my house! They keep showing up in my bathroom on occasion. *Shudders* Which is also where my spiders seem to be hanging out, all in the open and what not. 

I was doing my hair, minding my business, and spotted two of the eight-legged-mobile-centipede-buffets just chillin in the corners of the ceiling above me.

I decided to let them hang out, indefinitely. They love the little buggies that are attracted to my sink for droplets of leftover milk. No harm. They're just trying to catch a meal, too. I can respect that. As long as they don't go trying to repel while I'm sitting under them, they will live. Another condition is as long as I don't find another creepy house centipede in my bathroom. *Shudders*



*Update: 8-22-13. Spider #2 came to his demise. He broke my conditions. He was in my territory one morning while I was getting ready for work. It was very clear this area was off limits. On top of that, allowing those two to live in the corners of my bathroom sent a message to all of their buddies that it was the new hang out. Two more decided to join. They were terminated due to being in areas too close for comfort for me. The one pictured above wasn't having any success obtaining food, but he followed the rules and stayed well above the living quarters of the bathroom and made a new home in the corner over Josh's sink. I believe he has since died due to starvation. Rest in peace bathroom spider.

Pitter

Luke's alias 'round herr. Josh's fault, by far. Let me start with our dogs.

Our oldest dog is named Tank. He was half of a pound when I got him. Poor pup was at a local pet store (I know, I know-I don't shop pet stores any more), and he was so tiny that his little feet were falling through the holes of his cage. Saddest sight ever to a dog-lover. I bought him. He's a miniature pincer. Tank was merely a play on words for his itty bitty size. He lived up to it well, because even as an old man dog, he still thinks he is large and in charge. Oh, and entitled I might add (see below with father-in-law). 

His name is Tank, but we call him Moo and Moo Moo. I have no amusing story as to how this came about. I'm just as clueless as the people that give me the dog-head-tilt when I call him that. I am now convinced it was Josh. All Josh. Lord only knows how it happened, but it stuck. It's what we call him. It has now trickled down to our son. 

Josh humorously calls sandwiches samitches and animals aminals. Not because he's dislexic, just because he's Josh. He started out calling Luke caterpillar, because he looked like a caterpillar when we swaddled him. That turned to cap-a-tillar. Then, it was cap-a-titter. Eventually, it just became Pitter. I witnessed this transformation before my very eyes. And I'll be damned if it hasn't stuck. I caught myself calling him Pitter and soon gave Josh credit for being an ear-worm genius. Sigh. I've been had. 

A Taste of Something New

Luke has a crazy appetite. The kid is 4.5 months old and weighs 19.5 lbs!!! He gets about 20 oz of breastmilk (that's all I can make) and 10 oz of formula in a day. I know plenty of babies that eat this much and aren't near as big as him. I am diligent in measuring any formula he gets, so I know he isn't getting concentrated formula with higher calories. My only guess is that my milk is high in fat? He's a 'healthy' little boy. That's all that matters. I love his chunky thighs and the rolls on his arms. His little pot belly and two chins make me squint as I smile with glee.

I stumbled across something called baby-led weaning when Luke was first born. It is a concept, from what I understand, to let your child discover food on their own terms and feed themselves. Milk stays their primary source of nutrition for the first year of life, though. Food is for play and exploration only. No cereal, no spooning purées, just safe, soft table/finger foods. Supposedly, it really promotes self-reliance, independence, and decreases 'picky eating.'  A picky eater myself, I would do anything to shield my son from this curse. Maybe start him out on a different foot. Maybe try this baby-led weaning? That was my plan. 

Planning has not seemed to be on my side since the start of wanting a family, though. Why I've assumed it would change from that point, eight years ago, to today... No clue. Incurable optimist I suppose. But with his appetite, and needing more and more to be satisfied, we've been entertaining trying purées. 

It's exciting to think of starting him on solids. And I'll admit, with the baby-led weaning we would be missing out on the very first spoon feeding of messy puréed vegetables that first time parents are so eager to shove into tiny, gummy mouths. 

We broke down and bought some organic purées. Organic because there is a hippie that lives in my soul. We bought the stage 1 stuff that the doctor approved. Carrots, squash, sweet potatoes, and what not. I really just wanted to see where he was in being ready for solids. We decided on carrots first. I didn't expect him to even open his mouth, let alone eat anything. He surprised me. He opened, took most of what was on the spoon, made chewing motions, and swallowed! Josh and I were blown away. 

He actually ate! I couldn't believe it. I was in such awe. And he cried because we couldn't get the spoon back to his mouth fast enough! He loved the carrots! He loved them, gobbled them up, couldn't get enough! 

It was so much fun feeding him, too! He enjoyed it, we enjoyed it. I nursed him and he had 4 oz of formula before we offered any baby food to him. The jar was 2.5 oz, and he took almost half of it! He probably would have taken the whole thing if I hadn't fed him his milk first. But I just want solids to be for exploration right now. I want milk to be his primary source of everything. I really enjoyed feeding him, though. And I liked it so much because he did. 

I've been beating myself up over how to feed my child since he was born. I never realized how much I didn't know about babies until I had my own! It's a lot earlier than I wanted to start solids. I stood my ground when cereal kept getting suggested when he was only 3 months. And I didn't want him to have any purées, or any other solids for that matter, until after 6 months old. But after he took that spoon so well, I'm torn. I just didn't expect that at all from him! I think we are going to continue it simply for the experience and bonding with our little man. When he finally reaches for food, I think we will drop the purées and let him lead his feeding experiences from that point on. 

I'll be sure to update the journey. 

good bye!

3 Months

 

Weight: 15 lbs 8 oz (81.6%)

Length: 23.75" (30.8%)

 

Blessed

No one could have explained to me what being a mommy was going to be like or just how much it would change my life in every aspect.

Work used to really stress me out. I have a job with a lot of responsibility/liability on my shoulders. Maybe it's because I've only been back for a brief time since having Luke, but things are different. I don't drive home rethinking everything that happened at work, what I should or shouldn't have done/said, or what I need to do the next day. I drive home wondering what kind of mood Luke is going to be in, imagining what he smells like, and how his soft skin will feel against mine. I don't stress when I am not in bed by 8pm. I just live life on the fly. I would prefer more sleep, but I'm well-adjusted to missing it. I never imagined that I could be one of those people that could function on 2-4 hours of sleep. And sometimes we aren't talking consecutively; maybe 20 minutes here, 40 there, etc. And because I'm the type of person who needed a good 10-12 hours of sleep to feel productive, I would have a child that would sleep no more than a few hours at a time. That's ok. I've overcome much worse. This child makes me feel like I can conquer the World! No doubt. He's the most challenging thing I have EVER had in my life! And yet the most rewarding. 

I hear a lot of people say they are "blessed" when things are easy, textbook, or going as planned/better than expected in their lives. Guilty myself. But if someone else's definition of "blessed" defined it for me, I'm pretty sure I would be cursed. It seems like I can't remember an easy road. I feel scarred from having to climb the side of a mountain to get pretty much anywhere I've been trying to go. 

My childhood was difficult due to a severe lack of structure. Anyone "blessed" through teenage years? Yeah, me either. I lost my brother and grandmother within two months of each other. Marriage started out very rocky and difficult for Josh and I. We couldn't conceive, after trying for years. Fertility treatments were failing. We lost our daughter. I lost Luke's twin early on, went into preterm labor, was put on bedrest, had a rough L&D, then NICU. And now our son has been very difficult compared to other babies his age. Those are just the high points of some of the most difficult times in my life thus far. But here's why I am "blessed": because despite the fact that I pointed out the negatives, the way those difficulties have shaped me is what makes me who I am. And I am a person that can overcome anything. I am a person that can see past the negative and find the good. I am a person that is inspired and becomes inspirational. 

Proving it to myself, I see my childhood as the basis, foundation, and structure to everything I am now. It was a poor foundation, weak and wobbly, until I understood life a little better. Maybe I credit my interest in my pschycology and sociology classes in college? Who knows? But once I realized that I wasn't defined by my past, and I could live in the now, my viewpoints and life changed dramatically. Through a lack of structure, I found a profound independence in myself. I was a leader. I learned very early that the way you treat people, and how you make them feel, directly affects how you feel about yourself. I know adults who still refuse to believe this. Their loss. 

I found appreciation for life after losing my brother and grandmother when I was 17. I was finally close to both of them for the first time in my life. The emptiness hurts. The loneliness scars. I lived "loosely," as older teens do. No fear of dying. I've read it has to do with brain maturity. At that age, the area in the prefrontal cortex that processes consequences and the instinct of fear (needed for survival of our species) is still very underdeveloped. I believe this was the argument in the northern US states for having an older age requirement to obtain a driver's license. I could be making that up? It just seems like I remember reading that once. Back to my story. My grandmother died of cancer and my brother a single car accident. My brother would still be here if he'd been wearing a seatbelt. Talk about a wake up call. I can't tell you how "grown up" I became about vehicle safety, particularly wearing a seatbelt. Which I still don't understand how people drive/ride in a car without a seatbelt on?! I wonder if they would be comfortble on a roller coaster without lap bars?! It's essentially the same thing. They both do about the same speeds, and while a vehicle may be enclosed, it can still go upside down. Crazy people out there. Anyway, I started to live less risky and took more control of my life, from that point on. I talked about my brother a lot. I even gave a heartfelt speech about seatbelt safety in college. I'm terrified of the day my son starts driving, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Today, he is still lying in my arms. 

College was a hard time in my life, but I am a much different person because of it. Education doesn't make people better than others, but it does seem to occasionally bring out the insecurities in the people around you. I still feel insecure around physicians with tons of experience and published research studies. It's intimidating. But it's really all in the head of the intimidatee, because those who try to be intimidators typically intimidate no one.

Before nursing school, I enjoyed college. I worked full time and took night classes and online classes. I loved the people I met, and the things I learned. Nursing school was the worst part for me. I was flat out bullied by a couple of my instructors. Ridiculous, immature, and unprofessional. One of my instructors had the audacity to say to me: "Pateints want a nurse that is competent, not sweet." This stemmed from the accusation that I was "too nice" to my patients and that I worried more about them liking me than taking care of them. The part of me wanting to be a nurse was the fact that I love to help and care for others. I am truly compassionate for other human beings, and it was never an "act" with my patients. That teacher insinuated that I could not be kind and competent at the same time. Oh, if only she could see me now. She wanted me kicked out of the program. She made my life Hell, and with all honesty, I hated her. And to make matters even worse, there were a group of girls... Ha! Girls. Grown ass women, I should say. I had this feeling that they were no good, just rotten to the their cores. But it was just a feeling, a hunch, nothing concrete. Until I sat in a satellite class with them where others couldn't hear them. I listened to them laugh and make fun of other classmates, people that they were unbelievably nice to when around. I knew it! Jerks. Immature, childish women. I'm so glad I've never seen them again since graduation! I will say that I am very happily still friends with some amazing people that I met in my nursing class, though. They made life so much more tolerable during that time, and they don't even know this very important fact. Maybe I should confess it to them one day? Yet again, another good outcome from a poisonous environment. 

Everything in life is a matter of finding the good in a bad environment. I am responsible for all of my own experiences. And I take full responsibility of that in my life. And I am happier. 

Back to my son being more difficult than other babies his age. I will accept responsibility for that, as well. I don't have a predictable schedule for him, and I choose to breastfeed, even though I do not make enough milk for him. I supplement with formula when needed. I don't starve him (whew obviously-have you seen the size of this kid?). But when I breastfeed him, it's hard to tell how much he ate, thus how much supplementation he needs. I just start out with one or two ounces of formula and continue to mix it at 1-2 oz intervals as he needs. This is freakin tedious. Not like poppin a baby on a boob for 10-15 min then burp and done. It's a game. Is he full? Does he need more milk? How much? Ay yi yi. He's worth it, but it's very difficult to handle. My choice though, and I accept that. 

I have not made a routine with him for a sleep schedule. We bathe every night, but the times are various, and he doesn't always go to bed afterwards. His naps are also sporadic. He doesn't put himself to sleep, and he tends to catnap. I HATE catnaps. They are the devil. I've heard consistency is key in sleep/nap scheduling, so I have a plan. We'll see how it goes. 

Some people have those babies that can go with the flow of anything. Not mine. He needs constant attention, and gets bored easily. He wants a change of scenery all of the time. He stares at life outside with a curiosity inside of him that I know we will one day share.

I have a feeling he is going to be a deep thinker, motivated by good and intrigued by nature. I can't wait to watch this child grow up and get to know the amazing person he is going to become. I'm overjoyed to be a mom, finally. I am blessed. 

Kind of Sad

Today (well yesterday as it's 1 am as I type this) was my first day back at work. I worked Monday & Tuesday just on the computer, and spent time getting reacquainted with my patients and learning what's been going on while I've been out.

Today was such an awesome day. The old gang was all together again. There were originally four of us. One transferred, the other took another job, and many people have since come and gone. But today, today we all four managed to be together. It was pretty awesome. We played the radio and laughed all day. It was how work should be.

Luke was home with Josh, so other than a bit of a strenuous pumping schedule, I was pretty at ease. However, I had a moment. During a quiet minute while I was charting on a patient, a song came across the radio that gave me butterflies. Not the warm, fuzzy kind. The sick stomach kind.

When I was pregnant with Lexi, I made a video of Josh and I surprise-announcing our pregnancy to our family. It starts out with a song by Journey. That same song came across the radio today, and I felt my gut sink. I have an association to that song now: feelings of overwhelming joy and bliss, and soon after, heartbreak and tragedy. The song makes me feel sick to my stomach now. Sick with emotions of pain.

I feel that I adapted to the situation well (of losing my daughter), especially at the time. But I can't help the connotations and emotions I connect with that song. It will never be the same for me. I look at Luke often and wonder what Lexi would look like. Would she look like her brother? Would she be walking yet? I wish she were here so bad. I miss her so much. However, never 'knowing' her, I think it is the idea of her that I miss so much. I miss the connection and bond that I made with her in our short time together. I wish she were here to help me care for Luke. I am grateful, so grateful, to have experienced my first pregnancy with her. It was truly blissful. She made me feel whole. The way Luke makes me feel whole now. I think of her hearing her voice sometimes, hearing 'mommy' in that sweet, baby voice. But it will never be, and I accept that. Not always with open arms, but with realism. Just kind of sad right now. 

And the Mother of the Year Award goes to...

NOT ME! Lets just make that clear. Not that I want to elude this prestigious honorary, but I keep managing to sabotage myself.

Luke barely slept last night. I could tell it was reflux. I've had GERD for 12 years. I know the pain all too well. When my baby gurgles and gags and swallows and screams out in pain, I know exactly what he is going through. 

I would climb out of bed all night just to hold him upright, hoping it would help. And it did, temporarily. It's so heartbreaking to know my baby is in that kind of pain. We discussed it with the Ped at his 2 month check up. He suggested rice cereal, with the disclaimer that they "usually didn't recommend that this early unless the infant was at least 14 lbs and had reflux." I did my own research on why that is, and I'm not comfortable using the rice cereal at 10 weeks old. 

He offered writing him a script for Zantac, which is what I am taking while breast feeding (as I can't find good studies for the prescription stuff, like my Nexium that I've been taking for over a decade). The Zantac passes through to breast milk, but not enough to be equivalent to an effective dosage. Obviously. I declined, in office, on the script. I figured I would change my diet first and try more elevation after he eats. It's been torture night after night knowing my child is in pain. 

During the day, Luke slept more than usual. He's been lethargic and refusing a bottle. He breast feeds fine, but won't take a bottle. I go back to work in 3 days. We're going to have to work on that. Josh has been sick and running a fever since Monday. He's been staying away from the baby, but I'm still a little worried. I've been checking Luke's temp and no fever, so I don't know. 

I gave in and called the Ped to ask for the Zantac for Luke. It had been a long night, and I felt terrible for him. It wasn't until 9pm that Josh and I were able to leave to go to the pharmacy. You know, because it takes like 2 days to plan a trip out with an infant. I had to pay cash for his prescription, because I hate my insurance company and they hate me. I really wanted a 'half price milkshake' from Sonic, too. So, we scurried in that direction. 

Pulling out of the pharmacy's parking lot, Josh says, "Um Dairy Queen it is." To which I replied, "No. Sonic's shakes are half price right now." He said, "you better tell them to put those lids on as tight as possible then!" A little background here: Josh recently tried one of their new shakes and hated the combo of flavors that he ordered, so he sent it back was brought a different flavor. As we were leaving, he grabbed the cup and Blam! Disaster ensued. Milkshake everywhere: into the gear shift, down the console, in-between the seats, everywhere. We drove next door to a car wash and vacuumed the ice cream from our truck. And even more recently, I had a milkshake, on a different day, that didn't have a secure lid either. So, there went ice cream, everywhere, again. It's easy to see Josh's reserve. 

When we arrived, I ordered a peanut butter, with hot fudge, shake. But, on first sip, I realized it was just a vanilla shake. I desperately wanted that peanut butter!!! So, I politely requested a new shake. The new one was almost overloaded with peanut butter, but I tried to tolerate it. 

As we get going down the road, the peanut butter is causing my mouth to stick together. So, I reach back for the initial large, vanilla shake (they didn't take it back when they brought my new one). And guess what?! The &@&!?"&!$ lid wasn't on well. Ice cream EVERYWHERE. In my purse, the console, gear shirt, in the ventilation holes of the seat, the floor, between the seat and under it. All over my hands. And I hear Josh, "Never again. I don't care if shakes are two cents. I don't care if they're free!!! Never EVER again." Still hoping the truck doesn't smell like soured milk tomorrow in the 90 degree heat. Ugh. 

To make matters worse, much worse, I decided to give Luke the Zantac when we got home. I opened a syringe that I had at home with a needle on it. I drew up Luke's dose and discarded the needle. I squirted 1/4-1/2 ml into his cheek. He made an awful face, swallowed a bit, then tried spitting the rest out. He started gagging in a dry-heaving-like motion. Then, he vomited all over both of us. I thought I had given him too much. I rocked him and apologized over and over again. He didn't appear in pain, just disgusted by the taste. It had a spearmint smell. I should have tasted it myself first.

I decided to try to put just a few drop on his tongue, instead. But I scratched his gums with the stupid syringe. I felt it scrape. Omg I felt soooo bad. I can't even begin to describe how bad. He tried spitting out the second set of drops, then vomited again. Poor baby. I just held him close to me, vomit and all, and rocked him while trying not to cry. What an awful, awful day.

I was hopeful that we could end the day with a happy bath. Luke loves bath time. And this bath was no different; he enjoyed it. He has developed this new thing he likes to do in the bath where he shows his tongue a lot. He sticks it out like he is exaggeratively licking his lips over and over again. It's usually hilarious, but this time, I noticed blood in his mouth. Ahhhh! From where I scraped his gums! I wanted to crawl in a hole. Bad, bad mommy. I just need to sleep this awful day away. 

Here's to a better tomorrow!

2 Months

Weight: 13 lbs 3 oz (84.1%)

Length: 22.75" (54%)

Head: 39.25 cm (72.6%)

Man, I've missed blogging!

It's been 2 months since Luke was born, and I'm slacking on here. I can't count the times I've made a blog post in my head at the most inconvenient times, like when I'm showering, or feeding Luke, in the middle of giving a bath, or driving down the road. Times when I obviously can't blog. So frustrating. I've come up with some good stuff. Stories like projectile vomit turning into a waterfall under daddy's shirt onto the floor with classic daddy-dry-heaving. This is my journal. I need to be recording these things. Stories to look back on and laugh at. Maybe I will print my blog one day and make it a book for story time with Luke. Can't do that without writing, though can I?

So, back on the bandwagon! I'll start by catching up a bit.

1st month: That's over already?! Yeah, it was a blur. Feeding a newborn every 2-3 hours ALL day and night is exhausting. And being in the midst of it makes it hard to believe that people everywhere are doing this all of the time and have been since the beginning of man. Seriously?! How is this planet overpopulated? How is mankind not extinct? There are some strong women out there. Granted, I'm sure not every pregnancy and delivery goes as fabulously as mine did, or I probably wouldn't be typing this. But every newborn requires this much attention, and IT IS HARD. Whew. Breather. I should also mention that I had a low milk supply. I couldn't make enough to satisfy my baby's appetite. Which was hard. I had to pump after every feeding to try to stimulate more production. I was taking supplements. And I was inexperienced. That is key, because no matter how much education you are equipped with, sometimes you just have to live it. Can I getta Amen?! 

Luke eating every 2-3 hours was killing me. Literally stripping the basic needs to life right out of me. So, take a baby that nurses for almost an hour, then mix formula to supplement, feed for another 30 minutes, and change diaper (hopefully no disasters, so it can be a quick change). Lay baby down and pray, pray, pray that kid sleeps, so I can pump for 10-15 minutes. Wash pump parts in the sink and possibly bottles, if they are all dirty. Finally, lay down, and try to go back to sleep. Just starting to fall asleep. Pillow finally feeling comfy. Baby is awake and crying at the top of his little lungs ready to eat again! Rinse and repeat. 

Maybe I could get an hour of sleep at a time, maybe not. I would typically have to stay in bed (getting up only for feedings) for 12 hours just to get 4-6 hours of sleep. I wasn't eating, because I was trying to catch up on sleep. The lack of hydration and food was probably negatively impacting my milk supply further. It was such a vicious cycle on my body. But it was dedication at its best, even though it felt like the worst. This spilled well over into the 2nd month, I should mention. 

2nd month: Just as hard. Trying to bring in more milk is so exhausting, and it would have been so easy for me to just give up and give the kid formula. SO EASY. But I decided long before he was born that I was going to give breastfeeding everything I had. And I have. Everything. 

He never slept longer than 3 hours. I felt like he should be sleeping longer at night, and I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing with him during the day when he was actually awake. Maybe I didn't read enough. Maybe I read too much about pregnancy and all the crap I went through instead of reading about newborns. Maybe. 

At my 6 week check-up, my OB wanted to talk about Luke the entire time. And I was annoyed by that. She wanted to tell us how he "should be" sleeping, how we "should" put him down, how he "shouldn't" be awake so long. The whole appointment was about him. But that's why we have a Pediatrician. Just because you have a baby, doesn't mean that every baby is like yours. I don't care how many books or studies you've read, when it comes to parenting, it just has to be individualized. You can offer advise, but don't tell a brand new parent what they should and shouldn't be doing if their baby is healthy. It just made me mad. I was so distracted by all of the advise that I completely forgot to even ask to get my labs drawn, so that I could see where my anemia was to get cleared to work out. I was struggling with fatigue and dizziness during an intense workout program. If it was my anemia, I wanted to take it easy until I had adequate blood cells to supply oxygen to my heart and muscles when working out. But if it was just because my butt was out of shape, I was going to push myself. 

She even forgot to give me a prescription that was for several micro urethral tears I had sustained from child birth. Sigh. And I was so frustrated that I didn't even call back to get it called in. I also didn't go back for my labs. I just decided to give my body adequate time to rebuild my iron stores and create more red blood cells before I returned to such an intense workout program (like I almost passed out after 5 minutes into the warm up!). I'll just do stair-climbing/running and sit-ups in the meantime. 

I walked out of her office feeling like the worst mom in the world. Seriously, I felt  that bad, and I know it wasn't intentional. Maybe the hormones helped a bit? Yeah, maybe that was it. 

On a good note, my mom bought this little play gym for Luke to lie in the floor and look at. He absolutely loves it. He coos and kicks and bats at all of the hanging stuff. It's adorable. Josh and I have been doing some trial and error with a sleep schedule still.

I could go on and on about all of the stuff that has happened, but it's time to move on. I'll continue with today.

Luke had his 2 month check up and shots. I fed him right before we left, so he would be content. But that also made us run late (as usual). He woke up when we got him naked for his weigh in, and he was alert and happy. And quiet. Weird for this kid. He's the noisiest baby ever! He weighed in at a whopping 13 lbs and 3 oz! His weight to height ratio was 90th percentile! He's a chunker! The Pediatrician said they don't worry about this in breastfed babies. Good. I asked about using "adjusted age" since he was premature. Our Ped said 37 weeks was considered full term and, because he was born only one week shy of that, we weren't using adjusted age for his development. So, his birth weight was in the 5th percentile for full term babies. He has accomplished some astounding catching-up! I was one proud momma. 

Luke was being so cooperative and just a delight to work with as he was being poked and prodded. Our Pediatrician is very sweet-natured and gentle, mixed with unintentional goofiness. He's been a Pediatrician for 30 years (hope he stays around as Luke grows up). He is as far from egocentric as possible, but he's very knowledgeable. We like him tons. He made the comment that the formula we were using to supplement was his favorite. He said he thought it was the best stuff on the market right now. That made me feel confident. He made me feel so much better about my parenting.

When it was time for Luke to get his oral stuff for the rotovirus and shots, the nurse was so attentive and gentle with him. He just stared at her while cooperatively sucking up the liquid. Proud mommy and daddy moment as we looked at each other and smiled. Josh and I were just in awe at how calm and cooperative he was being. He tends to be cranky at home a lot. 

When it was time for the shots, one of us had to hold him down. Instead of doing the fair thing (paper/rock/scissors), I bluntly volunteered Josh. I wasn't sure I could handle his "pain cry." I stood opposite them against the wall, anxiously. Josh gently held Luke's arms, as instructed. The nurse gave him his pacifier (which he notoriously refuses), and he took the it without the first bit of fuss. She quickly stuck his leg with a dart-like movement, and he didn't flinch. Maybe a tad at the end, because it burned? The 2nd one, he started to cry, though. Which turned into a wail through the 3rd shot. By this point, an undeniable instinct had me hovering right over him. I looked at Josh and said, "I have to take him." It wasn't a control thing. It felt like an instinct taking over. 

The nurse immediately handed him to me. He had spit out that pacifier and was screaming his "painful cry." Oh, it pierced my soul. I pressed him close to my chest and told him it was okay and that mommy was there. Within a minute or less, he went from screaming, to a pouty whine with tears in his eyes, to just blinking a lot while looking at me. I needed that. I needed to know that I could soothe him when he needed me. It made me feel like I'm doing this mommy thing right.

Newborn Pics

 So, remember the photographer that stood me up for the maternity shoot? The one that offered a free shoot to make it up? Yeah, her. Well, I emailed her the day he was born to cancel our shoot. Which was noble, considering I had contemplated just letting her wait for us to never show. But I had hoped she could do his newborn pictures. She never replied, though. No congratulations, nothing. Nope. Not getting my business. 

Eventually, when we got home with Luke and settled, I tried to find some newborn photographers. They were all booked out like 6 weeks! Really?! How do you book out like that with newborns? The available ones were way too expensive for a momma that had been out of work for 4 months, so I improvised. Borrowed my mom's Canon Rebel, then took & edited his newborn photos myself! I think they turned out ok for such a novice.

A friend sent me this necklace. There is a blue bead for Lexi's birthstone, and a clear bead for Luke's birthstone. The L simultaneously represents both of my babies. My friend is the pearl to me, as she is obviously a rare gem.