Life

Time sure has gone by quickly in these past three years. My little boy is now three and a half, and easily the greatest thing in my life. He's a total Mama's boy, and I absolutely LOVE it!

Now that he's older and constantly asking for a friend to play with, we're constantly getting hounded by friends asking when we're going to have another one. For two long years I've been shrugging it off and saying "we'll see," or, "why would I have another one when the one I have is so awesome already?" The truth is, we've been trying to have a second baby for two years, and it's just not happening. It's a bummer to keep going to baby showers, and hearing about everyone getting pregnant, and knowing that even though you've tied every possible old wives tale, ovulation tracker, or advice, you can't seem to get knocked up. In December of last year I went to my OB/GYN for help, and she sent me and my husband out for tests. The results… our little boy was a miracle, and there's no way we could get pregnant again without some help.

My doctor referred us to a fertility clinic to get some info, and suggestions on what we can do to conceive. After a very long consultation and ultrasound, it was determined that In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) would be our best po$$ible chance at having a second baby. (And no… those dollar signs aren't a typo.) We left that office stunned and entirely overwhelmed. Can we afford this? Is it worth spending that much money for a 75% chance of it working? I WOULD HAVE TO GIVE MYSELF SHOTS. WHAT IF WE GO THROUGH IT AND END UP WITH TWINS?!?! This is some real life adult stuff, and we couldn't do it unless we were 100% up for it.

Here we are now, almost a year after that initial consultation. The stars have aligned, the health scares my husband and I had are past us, we still aren't pregnant, and we have somehow managed to save up the money to undergo IVF. It looks like we're doing this. Two nights ago we shared a romantic evening together spitting into small vials to send to a genetic testing company to see if we are carriers of cancer or any horrible diseases that we could pass on to any future children. My husband's birthday is in a couple weeks, and on that day we're both getting our blood drawn, and I have a detailed ultrasound scheduled that morning where the dr will measure all my reproductive organs to see what he has to work with when it comes to retrieving my eggs. Geeze… getting pregnant with my first was so much more romantic!

We have a very crazy and emotional journey ahead of us these next few months, and I hope to share as much if it as I can with all of you. Send me those good vibes please!

Six

My little guy is six months old now, but I feel like he's been in my life FOREVER. Every day brings something new. He's eating solids now, sitting up on his own, and starting to mimic things that I do. He's a total Mama's Boy which I secretly love, but it bums me out when he doesn't let other people hold him, because I need a break every now and then. In these past six months I've learned a LOT, and looking back on how I felt about certain things during my pregnancy, I've surprised myself.

I used to get REALLY irritated when people asked me about breastfeeding and if I intended to do it or not, and I was super shy about it. Now it's no big deal. I bust it out in public, at family gatherings, and even in the middle of a meal in a restaurant. It's amazing to know that my body is creating what my child needs to survive and grow healthy and strong. It's the most natural thing in the world and I've been super successful with it. I'm a proud mom.

Co-sleeping. It's a sensitive subject, but I'm totally guilty of letting my kid sleep in our bed. Hear me out though... having a C Section was rough, and getting in and out of our very tall bed was very painful. The baby would wake up like clockwork every two hours and finally I had enough. I would fall asleep with him in my arms while nursing him in bed, and I noticed he would sleep much longer. So it became a habit, and eventually I started feeding him with him laying down facing me and we would both fall asleep that way. It's a habit that stuck, and now I look forward to cuddling him every night. Right now I'm in the process of teaching him to fall asleep on his own so I can eventually transition him to his crib,  but we'll take it one day at a time. I'm in no rush.

Being a Stay at Home Mom was a major life changer for me, and I got cabin fever quickly. The thought of joining a mom's club made me sick to my stomach, but I gave it a shot and I'm SOOOOOO glad I did. I've met the most incredible women with the sweetest kids, and I've learned where all the kid friendly places are. My little guy will get the chance to grow up with other kids his age who live in the area, and I have a bunch of other moms in similar situations as me who I can bounce questions off of. Have I mentioned how amazing these women are? I've never felt so welcomed, and I truly feel like I've made long term friends.

Lastly, I swore I wouldn't be that mom who posted a zillion pictures of her kid on social media, but I'm totally guilty of it and I don't care.  Which reminds me....

Motherhood

It's been a long time since my last blog, but I've been BUSY.

This little ball of poop, tears, and super soft skin has certainly been keeping me busy, and I love almost every minute of it.  They always say that the happiest day of your life is the day your child is born, and during my weeks of recovery I didn't feel that way at all, and I was ridden with guilt. Thank you hormones! But now that my son is three months old, I get it. Getting a routine going was really hard, but now that I understand his cries, and know how to make him smile, life couldn't be better. I love this kid with everything in me, and I can finally say I get it. Being a mom is incredible. 

Waking up to a little smiling face each morning sets the mood for the day, and the feeling I get when he's crying and stops the moment I hold him is indescribable. He's my little partner in crime. As each day passes he gets more and more alert, which means he needs more and more attention. I read to him constantly, play games, cuddle him, take him on walks with dad in the evenings, and he keeps me company while I make breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I can't imagine ever being somewhere without him, no matter how tempting all the babysitting offers are.

I find myself having more sympathy for people who are loading their kids in the car when I'm waiting to take their parking spot, I understand why people with kids are almost always late, and I have the utmost respect for single moms. Seriously... if you're a single mom reading this.... I don't know how you do it.

It took me three months to get my routine down, and my sanity in check, and I never realized how much I missed cooking dinner. No really... I didn't cook a single meal till about two weeks ago. I sleep through the night and I shower every day, and it's no big deal anymore. 

I love being a mom, and although I have no idea what to expect in the months and years ahead, I'm taking it day by day, and I couldn't be happier.

Bragging

I've become that mom who posts a hundred pictures of her kid on social media sites. This blog is no exception.

Photography courtesy of www.lesleylukensphotography.com

Recovery

Recovering from my C Section was ROUGH.

I remember waking up in the recovery room and still having no feeling in my lower half, until the nurse asked me how I was feeling. Suddenly I felt like I was on fire, and the contractions were back. Turns out, when your surgery ends, so do the pain meds.

They wheeled me into my private recovery room where Bryan was waiting for me, and although I was smitten with my new baby in my arms, I found myself asking for painkillers... strong ones. The last thing I remember that night was the warm sensation that spread through my body as they injected me with morphine, and I was fine.

The next morning a nurse came in to encourage me to get up and walk around, and she wanted to put a band around my belly. The moment she touched me I screamed and told her I had no intention of putting anything around my body that would touch the giant incision that I could feel, but refused to look at. No joke, it took me a half hour to stand up out of bed, and by the time I did, I was again begging for morphine.

The next couple days were a blur of people, pain, and precious moments with my baby. I appreciated the people who came to see us, but it was too much, and I think the next time I have a baby (if there is a next time), I will limit visitors. It's embarrassing to have to pee and have eight people watch you struggle to get out of bed and slowly walk to the bathroom while asking your husband to call the nurse for more painkillers. No joke... one day it took me an HOUR to get out of bed, into the bathroom, and back into bed. The bathroom was six feet from my bed.) It's also embarrassing to fall asleep mid sentence in a room full of people there to visit you.

But the best part about staying for an extended time in the hospital, is the service. The nurses were all so great, and it was fun being fed and medicated and taken care of. They'd check my incision (which I still refused to look at), they would bring me clean gowns and linens, and they cheered me on when they saw me walking through the halls at a snail's pace.

When it was time to go home, I was under strict instructions to stay in bed for a few days, avoid stairs, no driving, and don't lift anything that weighed more than the baby. We have a two story house and the C Section wasn't planned, so the first couple days were rough. My husband was running up and down the stairs constantly bringing me clothes, and toiletries. Walking was still difficult, and getting up and down off the couch was even harder. My mom stayed with us for a week to help out. She cooked, ran errands, changed diapers, and brought me the baby every time he needed to be fed.

When two weeks had passed and I finally weaned myself off painkillers, I finally got the courage to look at my incision, and I noticed it was bright red, swollen, and oozing. Greeeeat.... I had a C Section infection. I visited my doctor who didn't seem too concerned, but she drained it (ouch), put me on antibiotics, and sent me on my way.

It's been almost four weeks since my surgery, and I'm almost feeling 100% normal. I can walk normal, drive, do stairs, and sleep laying down. My incision finally stopped oozing, but I have no feeling there except when I carry heavy things... which is still difficult. My stomach is a saggy mess of skin, but it's not like I plan on rocking a bikini ever in my life, so I don't really care. I've lost 30 pounds of pregnancy weight, and I'm hoping that in the next month or so I'll be back in my normal clothes.

Although recovery sucked, it was totally worth it, and I would do it all over again if I had to.

Zachary

Welcome to my labor story! I decided not to hold back on anything, so be warned... if you don't like TMI, you may not want to read.

Wednesday April 24th at 9pm, I checked into the hospital to be induced. 

Getting in the car and driving to the hospital was beyond emotional, and I cried all the way to the second floor where I checked in. I was terrified. 

My husband and I hauled my labor bag into my labor and delivery room where I got hooked up to IVs and monitors, and answered a million questions. A nurse came in to check me out, and after discovering I was two centimeters dilated, she gave me some medication so "soften" me up and get contractions going before giving me Pitocin to get labor going. It was 11pm by then, and we decided it was the best time to get some sleep. The nurse came in every hour to check my progress and see how I was doing, and by 5am, I was starting to feel contractions. They didn't hurt, but I could tell something was up with my body, and it was officially go time.

From then on, labor seemed like a blur. I don't remember what time they gave me the Pitocin, but I DO remember the pain that started radiating in my back. I mentioned it to my nurse, and she looked concerned, and said that the baby was probably "sunny side up," which was going to make delivery difficult. As the pain in my back started to increase, I decided it was time to stand up and do a bit of walking, and I was finally ready for visitors. By this time, it was well into the afternoon. 

We became really close with the nurse (who recognized us from one of our nightmare trips to Babies R Us), and we were having a great time with her. I expressed my main concerns about labor to her: having an IV (which was done and wasn't that bad), pooping on the table during delivery, a catheter, and tearing. She promised to take good care of me to ease my concerns, and offered up an enema to clean me out. I was pretty embarrassed at the thought of someone giving me an enema, but considering that she was checking my dilation by going shoulder deep into my swimsuit area every hour, I figured why not. She warned me that as soon as she was done pumping my backside full of water I was going to have to rush to the bathroom, and I would be in there for quite a while. I asked my husband to turn on some music so no one would hear me in the bathroom, and of all the songs in the world, Elton John's "Your Song" started playing. "It's a little bit funny.... this feeling inside...." It was probably the most appropriate song for the moment, and we were all cracking up and enjoying my enema. It was a touching moment. But clearing your bowels and experiencing contractions at the same time was probably one of the most uncomfortable moments I've ever experienced.

As visitors were coming and going, the contractions were getting stronger, and it got to the point where they hurt so bad I couldn't speak, and I had my husband warn people not to touch me, and not to ask me how I was feeling. It was time for pain killers to take the edge off. I crawled into bed and gladly accepted the injection that warmed my blood as it coursed though my veins. It knocked me out cold, but I was still waking up every 2-3 minutes to have my husband squeeze my hand as I breathed through the pain. While I lay there focusing on the prize that was going to come at the end of this, I could hear the woman in the room next to me screaming in agony and begging for help. I fell back asleep. 

I woke up a couple hours later and was more than ready for the epidural. The pain was too much, but the woman next door was at 8cm and I was only at 4cm, so she got it first and I had to wait the longest half hour of my life. When the anesthesiologist finally came in, it was a piece of cake. The nurse we had become close with held me close and pinched my arm when the needle went in my spine, so I didn't feel a thing. But I did get a glimpse of my husband who wasn't allowed near me during the procedure and he looked like he was going to vomit. After the epidural it was smooth sailing.... until later that evening.

The pain in my back returned, and I suddenly had a strange feeling... like I REALLY had to go to the bathroom, and urge to push was overwhelming. The nurse was still concerned that the baby was turned the wrong way, so she put me in all kinds of different positions and called the doctor to let her know that I was now 9am dilated. It was time to push. My husband grabbed one leg, and my mom grabbed the other, and the nurse hung out at the base of the bed and had me push when I felt the urge. I was hooked up to oxygen at this point because the baby's heart rate was dropping, and when his heart rate dropped from 154 to 70, the nurse left to call the doctor. I wasn't in any pain... but it was horribly uncomfortable and I was losing faith that I could actually go through with it.

The doctor arrived and I continued to push for another hour, and although she could see the baby's head, the moment I stopped pushing he went right back inside, and his heart rate was still unstable. It was time to make a decision. The doctor reminded me that the baby is big, and facing the wrong direction, and I could either keep pushing for another couple hours, or I could have a C Section. I broke down crying, looked at the doctor, and said "Cut this baby out of me." 

As the doctor called the OR to get things ready, my mom and husband started giving me words of encouragement and the nurse gave me a huge hug. This was really happening... and I was scared to death.

I got wheeled into the OR and stripped completely from the chest down and strapped down to a table. My epidural was switched for something more powerful, and the anesthesiologist promised to sedate me when I told him how scared I was. My husband was finally let in the room and he sat with me and really helped me feel better as I heard them announce they were making the incision. Suddenly I felt a huge weight lift out of my body, and a few moments later, I heard the cry. My husband was in awe and told me that we made a beautiful boy, and the nurses called him over to cut the cord while I lay there staring at the ceiling and blue tarp in front of me knowing that all my insides were probably laying out there on my stomach. Suddenly a little round face appeared in front of me, it was my little boy, and he was perfect. The nurses snapped some pictures of us, and as my husband was ushered out of the room with our boy, the sedative kicked in and I was knocked out.

I woke up in a room surrounded by nurses discussing their weekend plans and threw up instantly. When I was finally coherent, they brought me my little boy and I got to hold him for the first time. It was the most incredible feeling in the world, and after an hour alone with him, I was wheeled into my recovery room where my husband was waiting, and we were finally together as a family. 

My labor was long and uncomfortable, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat, and my little Zachary was worth it.

Wednesday

Wednesday evening at 9pm, I'll be induced to have this baby. Shit's getting REAL.

At my last doctor appointment, the first thing she said when she walked in the room is, "You're going to lose  a LOT of weight in the next couple weeks because you're carrying a BIG baby." I quickly told her that I don't want to know how big this baby is, but she assured me that the results of my ultrasound are just an estimate, and she's never delivered an eleven pound baby. Yeah... ELEVEN POUNDS, but she swears it's probably closer to seven and a half. 

Although my blood pressure has been pretty normal, she still suggested that I be induced, and we decided that Wednesday evening would be perfect so I could hopefully deliver on Thursday if all goes according to plan. My chances are having a C-Section are 10% due to his weight and a few other factors, so I have high hopes of delivering the old fashioned way. I'm still nervous as hell though, because I know that being induced can be brutal, but we're all packed and prepared.

I loaded up my labor bag with the basic essentials; rice sock, back massager, toiletries, socks, robe, and my blankie, and I also packed away some magazines and DVD's. Nothing says labor like the movie Django! We're also bringing along a camera, video camera, iPads, and my husband's laptop. I plan on sleeping through Wednesday evening, but I'm well prepared if the anxiety get the best of me, which I'm sure it will. 

Today my sister came over and took me out for a much needed pedicure, so my toes and feet are all set for their close up, and these next two days I'm going to focus on relaxing and gearing up for motherhood. I sat in complete silence today doing absolutely nothing for a good hour, and I loved every minute. 

The next time you hear from me, I'll probably be a mom, so please wish me a speedy and safe delivery, and think of me Wednesday night and Thursday morning. Thanks for keeping me company and keeping me sane these past nine months!