Here's another little video I made. This one is of Regan's first Christmas. Hope you enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gw2reGCzhFk&context=C3651380ADOEgsToPDskLOJoWm3Zg7j8RfoRd3JYsv
Saturday, December 31, 2011
New Year
Happy New Year! This has definitely been a roller coaster year. There were some tough times with my job, my pregnancy and adjusting to mommy-hood that just seem like little blips now because adding Regan to my life has tipped the scale so far to the positive side that nothing else really matters. I had a feeling that would happen. Right now, life is great. Fantastic family, hope that my new job is going to rock, possibility of finally buying a house this year... Feeling good.
I go back to work in a few days, and I'm excited and nervous at the same time. I'm starting a new job that I think I'm going to really enjoy, but I'm leaving my baby in the arms of someone else. I'd feel a lot better if we could get her to take a bottle, but she's still pretty much refusing them. I know she won't starve, but it's going to be a rough start while she gets adjusted to all the changes. I plan to go nurse her during my lunch time, but she'll still have to go 4 or 5 hours twice a day without nursing. I imagine it's scary for a baby being weaned. Nursing is very comforting to her.
Anyway, I have some goals for this year. One is to try to keep in touch with my family better, either through email or regular letters or cards. I think I'm going to get some blank cards and try to send one to someone in my family that I don't talk to much every week. I'm also going to eat more vegetables and try to find time to exercise that doesn't take away from time with my daughter and husband.
A very happy New Year to my family and friends!!! May 2012 be the best one yet!
I go back to work in a few days, and I'm excited and nervous at the same time. I'm starting a new job that I think I'm going to really enjoy, but I'm leaving my baby in the arms of someone else. I'd feel a lot better if we could get her to take a bottle, but she's still pretty much refusing them. I know she won't starve, but it's going to be a rough start while she gets adjusted to all the changes. I plan to go nurse her during my lunch time, but she'll still have to go 4 or 5 hours twice a day without nursing. I imagine it's scary for a baby being weaned. Nursing is very comforting to her.
Anyway, I have some goals for this year. One is to try to keep in touch with my family better, either through email or regular letters or cards. I think I'm going to get some blank cards and try to send one to someone in my family that I don't talk to much every week. I'm also going to eat more vegetables and try to find time to exercise that doesn't take away from time with my daughter and husband.
A very happy New Year to my family and friends!!! May 2012 be the best one yet!
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Christmas success!
We're back from our Christmas trip to Spokane, and it went very well, I think. Regan did better than I expected. I learned a lot about her in the last week, and I gained some confidence. Sorry for the long post, but the details are mostly so I'll be reminded when I look back.
I had gone back and forth several times on whether I should bring the stroller or not. Even the night before our flight, I was still weighing the options. Big, heavy stroller vs. the possibility that she'd be fussy in the Moby Wrap and sleep in the stroller instead. In the end, I was soooo glad we did not bring the stroller! I wrapped Regan up nice and snug in the wrap, and she slept all the way through security, the trek to the gate and through boarding. We didn't have to maneuver the stroller, a baby and all our bags through the Christmas crowds on the parking shuttle, the security line, the train or at the gate. My back didn't hurt a bit from carrying her, thanks to the Moby. They even let me wear her through the metal detectors. They just checked my hands with some kind of wipe, and we went right through. I was thrilled.
The plane rides were so much better than I feared. She fussed a bit on the first one, but the plane was full of babies so she blended right in to the chorus! Regan's Papa (Paul's dad) is great at getting her to relax and stop fussing, especially on an airplane. If anyone dirty-looked me, I didn't notice. And honestly, I'm not sure I would have cared much. It was Christmas, after all. For some reason, it seems people expect airplanes to be silent, more so than they expect on a bus or in most other public places. I wonder why that is. Anyway, I've decided that the things adults do on airplanes annoy me a lot more than the things babies do.
I tried to nurse Regan on the first plane ride, but she wasn't all that interested. On the way home, she barely made a peep, and she nursed quite well. We were in the very last row of the plane and I sat by the window, so there wasn't much for her to look at and I didn't have to use a cover (she hates those). It was a very early morning flight. It left at 6:30 a.m. and we got up at 3:30 a.m. I was worried she'd fuss because her sleep was interrupted, but she did great. She just slept in the Moby from the time we got to the airport through about half way through the flight. She did have a nice, big blow-out diaper though. Awesome. But I got her cleaned up and changed her clothes in the bathroom. No big deal, really.
The first evening at Grandma's house was a little rough. Regan was tired and hungry, but there was just so much new stuff to look at that she couldn't focus on eating. Even in the downstairs bedroom with the lights off, she had trouble. But when she did finally fall asleep, she slept for about 7 hours. (We just folded up some blankets on the floor and put pillows around them for her to sleep on.) She was pretty fussy during the days, probably because of all the people, activity, lights, noise, etc. She's used to a quiet, boring house where she has plenty of time to just chill out. Her naps were frequent and short throughout the trip. But she slept about 10 hours at night, nursing once after about 7 or 8 hours. I was impressed. Even at Aunt Donna's house on Christmas day, she napped fairly well.
Everyone was excited to hold her and play with her. She is so lucky to have so many people who love her. I tried not to stress about everyone wanting baby time, even if it might have made her a little fussy. They don't get to see her often, and it's good for Regan to be handled by different people. Hopefully everyone felt like they got their turn. And hopefully I didn't come across as too over-protective. I just tried to protect her sleep and some semblance of a pattern as much as I could. Anyway, it was more important to me that the family got to see her than to make sure she got all of her regular naps and things. And I think the trip was good for her. She had lots of new experiences, and I learned that she is more adaptable than I gave her credit for. Really, the only tough thing for me was having to retreat to a dark, quiet room every time she was hungry and sleepy (about every 2 hours). I'd hear all the fun going on upstairs, and I'd try to hurry Regan along so I could go play, which usually backfired.
Probably the biggest test of Regan's adaptability (and mommy and daddy's!) was yesterday, the day we came home. Like I said, we woke up at 3:30 a.m. That's 2:30 a.m. Colorado/Wyoming time. We made it to Denver by mid-morning only to get to our car and have it not start. Terrific. We were having some trouble with the accelerator on the way to the airport when we left, so we'd planned to have it towed to the nearest Midas when we got back anyway. But we didn't really expect it to be a major issue. Turned out, it needed a new starter (which didn't fix the accelerator problem, by the way.) Thank goodness that Paul's dad was there with his car. He was awesome. So we spent most of the day hanging around Midas and still had a two-hour drive home, where we needed to pick up our dog from the boarder. Paul drove home, God bless him. We just barely made it to be boarder by 5:30 p.m. before she closed. Then home, finally. Paul unpacked the car and the suitcases while I tried to nurse Regan to sleep. It took a little while because she was kind of wound up from everything. She finally went down for about 9 hours, nursed early in the morning and went back to sleep. So we all enjoyed a little sleeping in this morning.
All-in-all, it was a great trip. Tiring, but great. I learned a lot about myself, my husband and my daughter that gives me confidence that we make a good team. It pushed me beyond my comfort level, which is stressful, but it's how we grow. I'm starting to feel like we can do anything!
I had gone back and forth several times on whether I should bring the stroller or not. Even the night before our flight, I was still weighing the options. Big, heavy stroller vs. the possibility that she'd be fussy in the Moby Wrap and sleep in the stroller instead. In the end, I was soooo glad we did not bring the stroller! I wrapped Regan up nice and snug in the wrap, and she slept all the way through security, the trek to the gate and through boarding. We didn't have to maneuver the stroller, a baby and all our bags through the Christmas crowds on the parking shuttle, the security line, the train or at the gate. My back didn't hurt a bit from carrying her, thanks to the Moby. They even let me wear her through the metal detectors. They just checked my hands with some kind of wipe, and we went right through. I was thrilled.
The plane rides were so much better than I feared. She fussed a bit on the first one, but the plane was full of babies so she blended right in to the chorus! Regan's Papa (Paul's dad) is great at getting her to relax and stop fussing, especially on an airplane. If anyone dirty-looked me, I didn't notice. And honestly, I'm not sure I would have cared much. It was Christmas, after all. For some reason, it seems people expect airplanes to be silent, more so than they expect on a bus or in most other public places. I wonder why that is. Anyway, I've decided that the things adults do on airplanes annoy me a lot more than the things babies do.
I tried to nurse Regan on the first plane ride, but she wasn't all that interested. On the way home, she barely made a peep, and she nursed quite well. We were in the very last row of the plane and I sat by the window, so there wasn't much for her to look at and I didn't have to use a cover (she hates those). It was a very early morning flight. It left at 6:30 a.m. and we got up at 3:30 a.m. I was worried she'd fuss because her sleep was interrupted, but she did great. She just slept in the Moby from the time we got to the airport through about half way through the flight. She did have a nice, big blow-out diaper though. Awesome. But I got her cleaned up and changed her clothes in the bathroom. No big deal, really.
The first evening at Grandma's house was a little rough. Regan was tired and hungry, but there was just so much new stuff to look at that she couldn't focus on eating. Even in the downstairs bedroom with the lights off, she had trouble. But when she did finally fall asleep, she slept for about 7 hours. (We just folded up some blankets on the floor and put pillows around them for her to sleep on.) She was pretty fussy during the days, probably because of all the people, activity, lights, noise, etc. She's used to a quiet, boring house where she has plenty of time to just chill out. Her naps were frequent and short throughout the trip. But she slept about 10 hours at night, nursing once after about 7 or 8 hours. I was impressed. Even at Aunt Donna's house on Christmas day, she napped fairly well.
Everyone was excited to hold her and play with her. She is so lucky to have so many people who love her. I tried not to stress about everyone wanting baby time, even if it might have made her a little fussy. They don't get to see her often, and it's good for Regan to be handled by different people. Hopefully everyone felt like they got their turn. And hopefully I didn't come across as too over-protective. I just tried to protect her sleep and some semblance of a pattern as much as I could. Anyway, it was more important to me that the family got to see her than to make sure she got all of her regular naps and things. And I think the trip was good for her. She had lots of new experiences, and I learned that she is more adaptable than I gave her credit for. Really, the only tough thing for me was having to retreat to a dark, quiet room every time she was hungry and sleepy (about every 2 hours). I'd hear all the fun going on upstairs, and I'd try to hurry Regan along so I could go play, which usually backfired.
Probably the biggest test of Regan's adaptability (and mommy and daddy's!) was yesterday, the day we came home. Like I said, we woke up at 3:30 a.m. That's 2:30 a.m. Colorado/Wyoming time. We made it to Denver by mid-morning only to get to our car and have it not start. Terrific. We were having some trouble with the accelerator on the way to the airport when we left, so we'd planned to have it towed to the nearest Midas when we got back anyway. But we didn't really expect it to be a major issue. Turned out, it needed a new starter (which didn't fix the accelerator problem, by the way.) Thank goodness that Paul's dad was there with his car. He was awesome. So we spent most of the day hanging around Midas and still had a two-hour drive home, where we needed to pick up our dog from the boarder. Paul drove home, God bless him. We just barely made it to be boarder by 5:30 p.m. before she closed. Then home, finally. Paul unpacked the car and the suitcases while I tried to nurse Regan to sleep. It took a little while because she was kind of wound up from everything. She finally went down for about 9 hours, nursed early in the morning and went back to sleep. So we all enjoyed a little sleeping in this morning.
All-in-all, it was a great trip. Tiring, but great. I learned a lot about myself, my husband and my daughter that gives me confidence that we make a good team. It pushed me beyond my comfort level, which is stressful, but it's how we grow. I'm starting to feel like we can do anything!
A little Christmas elf
Four generations
In line to see Santa. Regan could barely contain her excitement!
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Fun times, tough times and travel anxieties
It's been a bit of a roller coaster lately. I guess the holidays are often that way, but more so this year. There have been some great highs, like my new job and the fact that Regan is really starting to fuss less and less and be happy and content a lot more, which is so great to watch! Last evening, she just sat in her swing, rocking and looking in the mirror, for probably an hour and a half! No crying for 90 minutes while she's awake!?! Awesome! And last night she only woke up once to eat between about 8 p.m. and 7 a.m. I was back in bed within 20 minutes. Of course, there's always something that we'll struggle with, and right now it's getting her to focus on nursing. During the day (she doesn't do this at night, thank goodness!) she is much more interested in looking around than eating. She'll spot something that is just out of view while nursing, and pull herself off to look at it. Over and over and overandoverandoverand over..... It's quite frustrating.
Unfortunately though, my family suffered a loss this week. My Uncle Bill died on Sunday (Dec. 18) of cancer. It had been a very long fight for him, and the cancer finally won the war. We had gone down to my parents' house for an early Christmas weekend, and my dad got the phone call on Sunday just before we were about to head home. Uncle Bill loved Christmas. We were hoping he'd make it to see one more. But he's not sick any more, and I think that's a bit of a relief for the family. I think I'm going to make it my New Year's resolution to get to know my extended family better. Every time we lose someone, I wish I'd gotten to know the person better.
We'll be headed for Spokane this week, and I'm pretty nervous about it. I'm really trying to relax because I know that if I'm worked up, it'll be harder for Regan to relax. But it's just so much to think about. How will she do at the airport? It's going to be a busy place. Will she scream in the security line? At the gate? While boarding? The whole plane ride? The whole week!?! One thing I'll probably never do again is judge or get impatient with a crying baby in a public place. Okay, it's hard not to get impatient, but I won't judge the parents any more, at least not if the baby is still very young. I had no idea how stressful that was. I just pray that people will be patient with me and with her. Also, that I will be patient with myself and with her. It's going to be a fun trip, over all. I'm sure of it.
Here's a little video I made, just for fun. http://youtu.be/c1sl9sRZEaw
Unfortunately though, my family suffered a loss this week. My Uncle Bill died on Sunday (Dec. 18) of cancer. It had been a very long fight for him, and the cancer finally won the war. We had gone down to my parents' house for an early Christmas weekend, and my dad got the phone call on Sunday just before we were about to head home. Uncle Bill loved Christmas. We were hoping he'd make it to see one more. But he's not sick any more, and I think that's a bit of a relief for the family. I think I'm going to make it my New Year's resolution to get to know my extended family better. Every time we lose someone, I wish I'd gotten to know the person better.
We'll be headed for Spokane this week, and I'm pretty nervous about it. I'm really trying to relax because I know that if I'm worked up, it'll be harder for Regan to relax. But it's just so much to think about. How will she do at the airport? It's going to be a busy place. Will she scream in the security line? At the gate? While boarding? The whole plane ride? The whole week!?! One thing I'll probably never do again is judge or get impatient with a crying baby in a public place. Okay, it's hard not to get impatient, but I won't judge the parents any more, at least not if the baby is still very young. I had no idea how stressful that was. I just pray that people will be patient with me and with her. Also, that I will be patient with myself and with her. It's going to be a fun trip, over all. I'm sure of it.
Here's a little video I made, just for fun. http://youtu.be/c1sl9sRZEaw
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Shots
Regan got her first shots this week. Poor little baby. That was awful. It didn't help that mommy and daddy were really unprepared for how she'd react. I feel like her doctor should have warned us a little better about that. I thought the injections would be the worst part, and then it would be pretty much over. I thought she might have a little soreness and not feel great, but nothing like at was.
She had her appointment on Monday, and the doc said she was going great. She's exactly average for weight, length and head size - 50% percentile for all of them. She weighs 11 lbs. 6 oz now. He asked several questions - is she starting to make "talking" noises, is she smiling, etc. Most of the answers were yes, but he asked if she was reaching for and grabbing things yet, and she hasn't done that. She'll swipe at her toys, but she hasn't grasped them yet. She's also not really holding her head up to 45 degrees when she's on her stomach. That's probably because she hates being on her stomach, so I don't force tummy time too much. I guess we need to do more of that. She can hold her head up when she's sitting up though.
After she saw the doc, the nurse came in to do her shots. She did an oral one first and then three shots. The shots were done in less than 10 seconds. The nurse was super fast. But man, Regan screamed. Her face turned red and she couldn't even get a breath. It broke my heart. She recovered from that fairly quickly though. We brought her home and she fell asleep right away. Not knowing how she'd feel, I'd made an appointment for a haircut right after her appointment. She was sleeping, so I went to that. When I got home about 45 minutes later, Paul said she had just started fussing. So I nursed her and hoped she'd fall back asleep for the night. No such luck. I nursed her for about the next four hours. I got up to stretch once or twice, but every time I moved, Regan would wake up hurting and feeling bad. I had picked up some infant Tylenol on my way home because the doc said we could give her that. So we did, and she seemed to feel a little better. She actually slept pretty well once she got to sleep. Four or five hours, anyway. She was much better after that. Just fussy and grumpy for the next couple of days, but nothing like that first evening.
While the whole experience was not pleasant for anyone, it did make my love for my daughter even stronger. I don't know how that's possible, but it did. I'd never seen her hurt and sick like that, and I wished more than anything that I could take that away. For the millionth time, I feel so blessed to have a healthy baby.
She had her appointment on Monday, and the doc said she was going great. She's exactly average for weight, length and head size - 50% percentile for all of them. She weighs 11 lbs. 6 oz now. He asked several questions - is she starting to make "talking" noises, is she smiling, etc. Most of the answers were yes, but he asked if she was reaching for and grabbing things yet, and she hasn't done that. She'll swipe at her toys, but she hasn't grasped them yet. She's also not really holding her head up to 45 degrees when she's on her stomach. That's probably because she hates being on her stomach, so I don't force tummy time too much. I guess we need to do more of that. She can hold her head up when she's sitting up though.
After she saw the doc, the nurse came in to do her shots. She did an oral one first and then three shots. The shots were done in less than 10 seconds. The nurse was super fast. But man, Regan screamed. Her face turned red and she couldn't even get a breath. It broke my heart. She recovered from that fairly quickly though. We brought her home and she fell asleep right away. Not knowing how she'd feel, I'd made an appointment for a haircut right after her appointment. She was sleeping, so I went to that. When I got home about 45 minutes later, Paul said she had just started fussing. So I nursed her and hoped she'd fall back asleep for the night. No such luck. I nursed her for about the next four hours. I got up to stretch once or twice, but every time I moved, Regan would wake up hurting and feeling bad. I had picked up some infant Tylenol on my way home because the doc said we could give her that. So we did, and she seemed to feel a little better. She actually slept pretty well once she got to sleep. Four or five hours, anyway. She was much better after that. Just fussy and grumpy for the next couple of days, but nothing like that first evening.
While the whole experience was not pleasant for anyone, it did make my love for my daughter even stronger. I don't know how that's possible, but it did. I'd never seen her hurt and sick like that, and I wished more than anything that I could take that away. For the millionth time, I feel so blessed to have a healthy baby.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Tips for grocery shopping
Beware: Rant incoming
1. That area right in front of the doors is not, in fact, a parking spot especially made for you. Circle the lot like everyone else.
2. The self-checkout lines are not meant for full carts.
3. Managers: You know those little displays you put in the middle of the aisles? They're annoying and I won't buy things on them in hopes you'll stop further crowding the already crowded store.
4. If you're going to use the shopping carts with the little kid seats that are the size of semi-trucks, please ensure that your children are in the seats. No fair driving the empty semi and having your children running around it in circles. Better yet, try to avoid making grocery shopping a family outing.
5. Also for managers: the little tags that make something look like it's on sale when it really isn't are just annoying. Please don't insult my intelligence.
6. When the whole aisle is clogged up with people, take a look around and try to figure out if you're the roadblock. If so, kindly move your @$$.
7. Figure out how to distinguish a one-way lane in a parking lot by how the cars are positioned diagonally before leaving the house.
8. To the checkers: We may both wish we were doing something else, but a little friendliness (fake it, if you have to) goes a long way. It's how everyone with a job gets through the day sometimes. If I can manage to greet you with a smile after navigating through your store crowded with annoying displays, bored children and oblivious people, you can at least be polite. Walmart checkers, you are most guilty of this one.
1. That area right in front of the doors is not, in fact, a parking spot especially made for you. Circle the lot like everyone else.
2. The self-checkout lines are not meant for full carts.
3. Managers: You know those little displays you put in the middle of the aisles? They're annoying and I won't buy things on them in hopes you'll stop further crowding the already crowded store.
4. If you're going to use the shopping carts with the little kid seats that are the size of semi-trucks, please ensure that your children are in the seats. No fair driving the empty semi and having your children running around it in circles. Better yet, try to avoid making grocery shopping a family outing.
5. Also for managers: the little tags that make something look like it's on sale when it really isn't are just annoying. Please don't insult my intelligence.
6. When the whole aisle is clogged up with people, take a look around and try to figure out if you're the roadblock. If so, kindly move your @$$.
7. Figure out how to distinguish a one-way lane in a parking lot by how the cars are positioned diagonally before leaving the house.
8. To the checkers: We may both wish we were doing something else, but a little friendliness (fake it, if you have to) goes a long way. It's how everyone with a job gets through the day sometimes. If I can manage to greet you with a smile after navigating through your store crowded with annoying displays, bored children and oblivious people, you can at least be polite. Walmart checkers, you are most guilty of this one.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Exciting and scary changes
Well, with possibly the worst timing ever, I'm changing jobs! I'm really excited about change, I just feel bad that I had to give my notice at the end of my maternity leave. I didn't plan it that way, but that's how it worked out. Anyway, I'll be starting as the Resource Development person at the Boys and Girls Club of Cheyenne in the first week of January. I'm stoked! It's essentially the same job that I've been doing for the last year, only with a good chance that I'll be happier doing it. The director (my boss) is soooo nice and everyone really seems to love her. My pay won't change much at first, but it could go up by quite a bit by the end of next year because it'll be based on whether the fundraising goals are met. That's good incentive and motivation. And the best part is that they are currently working on a capital campaign to raise money for their beautiful new building. I think it's so exciting that I will play such a big role in getting that building built for the kids. Plus, I'll get to work with kids. I think it's going to be great.
I'm excited, but I'm still terrified of leaving Regan in daycare. I keep hearing people say that the anticipation of going back to work is worse than actually doing it, and I'm hoping that's true for me. We went to what will be her daycare for an enrollment meeting today, and I got to meet the teachers and see where she'll be and all that. It's a great place, and I feel a little better. But I'm still nervous.
Oh, and we think we've figured out what might be making Regan so fussy. Chocolate. I didn't eat any chocolate for several days, and she seemed to feel better. To try it out, I ate quite a bit for a couple of days, and she just seems miserable tonight. So I guess it's no chocolate for me for a while. :( It's better than having a fussy and crying baby though.
I'm excited, but I'm still terrified of leaving Regan in daycare. I keep hearing people say that the anticipation of going back to work is worse than actually doing it, and I'm hoping that's true for me. We went to what will be her daycare for an enrollment meeting today, and I got to meet the teachers and see where she'll be and all that. It's a great place, and I feel a little better. But I'm still nervous.
Oh, and we think we've figured out what might be making Regan so fussy. Chocolate. I didn't eat any chocolate for several days, and she seemed to feel better. To try it out, I ate quite a bit for a couple of days, and she just seems miserable tonight. So I guess it's no chocolate for me for a while. :( It's better than having a fussy and crying baby though.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Forgetting the "norm"
I think we've been lucky with how much Regan sleeps, but not so lucky with how much she cries. I was just reading over my last several posts, and they all talk about how much she's been fussing and crying. After a while, sometimes days seem like weeks and weeks seem like days. I think her "crying curve" started at around 6 weeks instead of peaking there. Hopefully we've reached something of a peak now because we're kind of worn down. She had a better day today though, actually. We even made a girls' trip to the mall for a little window shopping and to say hi to Santa. (Okay, and for a new pair of shoes for mommy.)
I was on the phone with her doctor's office twice this week (new mommy syndrome reared its head), trying to see if they could give me some idea of what is up with this little mystery baby. She doesn't act sick or like she's in a lot of pain. She's doesn't have the "colic" symptoms I've read about. She's just so rarely content. But the nurse said as long as she's eating well, wetting diapers, sleeping well and doesn't have a fever, she's probably just exercising her baby right to cry as if Jack Bauer has hold of her fingers (my words.) She is eating well and boy can she sleep. We're up to around 8 hours at a time at night now! So I guess she's just a diva for now. I'm just hoping it has mostly passed by the time we head out of town for Christmas. I also haven't eaten chocolate for a couple days (gasp!) and I'm hoping that's not the reason for her better day today! No chocolate? At Christmas time??? Talk about torture!
Today's moral is that I need to try to forget about the "norm" and just try to take things as they come. There's no use trying to fit a square peg in a circle hole. I'm also trying to not let her fussiness stop me from taking her out of the house. I'm afraid of letting her cry in public because I feel like people will think I'm a bad mom. But I know I'm going to have to get over that eventually, because before I know it she'll be throwing tantrums in the peanut butter aisle. Hence our trip to the mall today. Babies cry. It doesn't make me a bad mom, and who cares what people think? The people who matter don't mind, and the people who mind don't matter. ;)
I was on the phone with her doctor's office twice this week (new mommy syndrome reared its head), trying to see if they could give me some idea of what is up with this little mystery baby. She doesn't act sick or like she's in a lot of pain. She's doesn't have the "colic" symptoms I've read about. She's just so rarely content. But the nurse said as long as she's eating well, wetting diapers, sleeping well and doesn't have a fever, she's probably just exercising her baby right to cry as if Jack Bauer has hold of her fingers (my words.) She is eating well and boy can she sleep. We're up to around 8 hours at a time at night now! So I guess she's just a diva for now. I'm just hoping it has mostly passed by the time we head out of town for Christmas. I also haven't eaten chocolate for a couple days (gasp!) and I'm hoping that's not the reason for her better day today! No chocolate? At Christmas time??? Talk about torture!
Today's moral is that I need to try to forget about the "norm" and just try to take things as they come. There's no use trying to fit a square peg in a circle hole. I'm also trying to not let her fussiness stop me from taking her out of the house. I'm afraid of letting her cry in public because I feel like people will think I'm a bad mom. But I know I'm going to have to get over that eventually, because before I know it she'll be throwing tantrums in the peanut butter aisle. Hence our trip to the mall today. Babies cry. It doesn't make me a bad mom, and who cares what people think? The people who matter don't mind, and the people who mind don't matter. ;)
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| This isn't a new picture, but I though it was cute enough to share. Pax is making sure the baby is okay. |
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Welcome Regan video
I finally managed to finish this video. Hope you enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxQrUAYEOio
More to come.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxQrUAYEOio
More to come.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Thanksgiving success and growth spurt?
Thanksgiving was great! We spent Wednesday and Thursday night at my parents' house. The first night was kind of rough. Regan woke up a lot, but she was still easy to put back to sleep. The second night was great though. She only woke up a couple of times and went right back to sleep. It's nice to know that it's possible to have a decent night's sleep somewhere other than at home. Regan was still pretty fussy, but not too bad, during both days. The meal was great and everyone really enjoyed the family time.
Today, however, has been a rough day. Regan woke up at about 6:30, which is pretty typical. I brought her out into the living room to feed her instead of staying in her room. When we stay in her room, we both usually end up falling asleep for another hour or so in the glider. I figured that probably isn't real safe, and also thought that if we started her day a little earlier, maybe she'd nap better and go to bed earlier. I don't know if that has anything to do with how the day went, but she cried from about 7 a.m. until about 3 p.m. She'd stop to eat every hour to two hours, and sometimes to take a short nap of maybe 20 minutes. But if she wasn't eating or sleeping, she was crying. It was a stressful day for mommy and daddy.
I was worried she was eating too much because when she has done that in the past, she has spit it all up and didn't seem to feel well. I also read that it's possible to over-feed a baby, making them more uncomfortable and making the crying worse. So I was trying to hold her off for two hours between feedings. However, I finally called the lactation nurse at the hospital this afternoon and told her what was happening. She suggested that Regan was in a growth spurt and possibly just wanted to eat and eat and eat. She said it was okay to feed her more than every two hours, if that's what she wanted. So I relaxed and resolved to camp out in front of the TV with her for the rest of the afternoon, letting her nurse whenever she wanted to. Funny thing: almost as soon as I gave in and let her eat all she wanted, she fell asleep and has been quietly napping for the last hour.
Once again, I'm reminded that I need to try to relax and follow her cues. I know I should trust myself, but I just don't seem to have the instincts to trust. I don't know whether feeding her more is helping or hurting, or whether she's really hungry or just tired. I don't know if she wants to be held or left alone to play or sleep. I'm trying, really trying, to relax and trust my instincts. But there isn't a little voice my my head that magically started giving me the right answers when I give birth. I just have to wing it, and hope that voice develops more over time.
Today, however, has been a rough day. Regan woke up at about 6:30, which is pretty typical. I brought her out into the living room to feed her instead of staying in her room. When we stay in her room, we both usually end up falling asleep for another hour or so in the glider. I figured that probably isn't real safe, and also thought that if we started her day a little earlier, maybe she'd nap better and go to bed earlier. I don't know if that has anything to do with how the day went, but she cried from about 7 a.m. until about 3 p.m. She'd stop to eat every hour to two hours, and sometimes to take a short nap of maybe 20 minutes. But if she wasn't eating or sleeping, she was crying. It was a stressful day for mommy and daddy.
I was worried she was eating too much because when she has done that in the past, she has spit it all up and didn't seem to feel well. I also read that it's possible to over-feed a baby, making them more uncomfortable and making the crying worse. So I was trying to hold her off for two hours between feedings. However, I finally called the lactation nurse at the hospital this afternoon and told her what was happening. She suggested that Regan was in a growth spurt and possibly just wanted to eat and eat and eat. She said it was okay to feed her more than every two hours, if that's what she wanted. So I relaxed and resolved to camp out in front of the TV with her for the rest of the afternoon, letting her nurse whenever she wanted to. Funny thing: almost as soon as I gave in and let her eat all she wanted, she fell asleep and has been quietly napping for the last hour.
Once again, I'm reminded that I need to try to relax and follow her cues. I know I should trust myself, but I just don't seem to have the instincts to trust. I don't know whether feeding her more is helping or hurting, or whether she's really hungry or just tired. I don't know if she wants to be held or left alone to play or sleep. I'm trying, really trying, to relax and trust my instincts. But there isn't a little voice my my head that magically started giving me the right answers when I give birth. I just have to wing it, and hope that voice develops more over time.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Progress
Regan is 6 weeks old today! Not really a whole lot to report right now actually. Regan's starting to sleep longer, which is fantastic. The other night, she slept about 6 hours in a row! It's still sort of sporadic though. Last night I think we got about 4 hours. It does seem like she's figured out that nighttime is for sleeping though, and her long stretches are at night now. It's nice to see progress.
She's still fussing through feedings occasionally, but it seems to be getting less and less and also seems to be related to how well rested she is.
Thanksgiving is on Thursday. I love Thanksgiving!! We'll be spending the night at my parents' house. It'll be Regan's first night away from home. Hopefully it goes well! Wish us luck.
She's still fussing through feedings occasionally, but it seems to be getting less and less and also seems to be related to how well rested she is.
Thanksgiving is on Thursday. I love Thanksgiving!! We'll be spending the night at my parents' house. It'll be Regan's first night away from home. Hopefully it goes well! Wish us luck.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Mystery Baby
Oh my goodness crying baby. Here we thought we were in the clear. At about 4.5 weeks, we seemed to have gotten Regan's crying and how to soothe her figured out. Paul and I were talking about how that 6-week crying curve didn't seem to apply to her because she seemed to be crying less and less instead of more and more. Well, we jinxed ourselves. She's back with a vengeance. Yesterday and the day before, she just cried or fussed basically aaaaalll day long. Only way I could get her to stop was to hold her on my chest, and even that didn't always work. Could be something I ate (I'm going back to cutting way down on the dairy) or could be just her baby ways. Is it possible that she's worried I'm going to leave her for a few hours again? She cried for two days after I did that. She's too young for that to be the reason, right?
She has really been a mystery lately. She also wasn't sleeping much at all during the day. She used to nap in her swing in the living room with me, sometimes with the TV and bright lights on. I didn't used to have to do much of anything to get her to fall asleep during the day, just put her down and cover her up. Now, after several hours of her being awake, I have to feed her, swaddle her, rock her and oh-so-carefully put her in her crib with the lights off and the door closed. And I usually expect to hear her fussing on the monitor in 30 minutes. Maybe she's becoming more aware of noise and light. Maybe her tummy hurts too much to sleep. Who knows? Her nighttime sleeping hasn't changed much. She's still up about every 2 hours, with an occasional longer stretch. She has slept a lot more today because I've focused on making sure she does. I'm hoping she still sleeps tonight. I'm sort of stumped. Aren't babies supposed to sleep like, well, babies?
She seems to be eating less too. Sometimes she'll latch on and chow down like usual. But other times she'll latch for a swallow or two, then fuss, the root, then latch for a minute, then fuss... and on and on. Or she'll latch and eat well, but just for a couple of minutes. Or she'll root around when we touch her cheek, but won't eat.
I never thought I'd be one of those "note-taking" parents, writing down every little thing. But I feel like I need to tote around a laptop and spreadsheet to keep track of everything. Memory must be the first to go when sleep deprived. Hopefully some patterns start emerging soon. I'm ready for some kind of routine to be established.
Massage scheduled for tomorrow! Can't wait!
She has really been a mystery lately. She also wasn't sleeping much at all during the day. She used to nap in her swing in the living room with me, sometimes with the TV and bright lights on. I didn't used to have to do much of anything to get her to fall asleep during the day, just put her down and cover her up. Now, after several hours of her being awake, I have to feed her, swaddle her, rock her and oh-so-carefully put her in her crib with the lights off and the door closed. And I usually expect to hear her fussing on the monitor in 30 minutes. Maybe she's becoming more aware of noise and light. Maybe her tummy hurts too much to sleep. Who knows? Her nighttime sleeping hasn't changed much. She's still up about every 2 hours, with an occasional longer stretch. She has slept a lot more today because I've focused on making sure she does. I'm hoping she still sleeps tonight. I'm sort of stumped. Aren't babies supposed to sleep like, well, babies?
She seems to be eating less too. Sometimes she'll latch on and chow down like usual. But other times she'll latch for a swallow or two, then fuss, the root, then latch for a minute, then fuss... and on and on. Or she'll latch and eat well, but just for a couple of minutes. Or she'll root around when we touch her cheek, but won't eat.
I never thought I'd be one of those "note-taking" parents, writing down every little thing. But I feel like I need to tote around a laptop and spreadsheet to keep track of everything. Memory must be the first to go when sleep deprived. Hopefully some patterns start emerging soon. I'm ready for some kind of routine to be established.
Massage scheduled for tomorrow! Can't wait!
Sunday, November 13, 2011
A night out!
Paul and I went on our first night out since Regan was born last night! It was fantastic! My mom and dad came up from Longmont to babysit and we went out to dinner and a movie to celebrate my birthday. Real Steal was SO much better than I expected. I loved it! I will say that parent/child relationships hit me in a whole new way. In the movie, the young boy's mom dies (don't worry, I'm not giving anything important away) and it broke my heart! Anyway, great movie! After the movie, we went out to Red Lobster, a splurge for us because we're usually so cheap when it comes to "going out." But we both ate our weight in shrimp and I don't regret it a bit. I only regret that I was too full for dessert.
This was the longest that I'd been away from Regan. I called to check in between the movie and dinner, and got a text from my mom after dinner saying all was well. I missed the little squirt, but it was really nice to get away. Bless her grandma and granddad because she's been awfully fussy again lately, especially in the evenings.
Aside from her fussiness, she seems to be sleeping for longer stretches at night. Last night, I think she got in about 4 hours in a row. Sometimes she fusses or even cries in her sleep a bit, but when I go to pick her up, her eyes are still closed. So I'll usually just let her fuss herself back to sleep. She's still tough to get to go to sleep at night. Last night, it was close to 11 before she finally fell asleep. But once she's out, she seems to go back to sleep after nursing pretty easily at night. Usually. Anyway, I'm starting to feel a little more rested, which is nice.
I'll be doing some work from home this week, which is kind of a bummer. A project for work needs to get done this week though, and I offered to do the majority of it. I actually got quite a bit done today while Paul was home though, so I'm hoping it'll just be another few hours of work. It's actually sort of nice to have something else to think about, but it's hard to focus.
This was the longest that I'd been away from Regan. I called to check in between the movie and dinner, and got a text from my mom after dinner saying all was well. I missed the little squirt, but it was really nice to get away. Bless her grandma and granddad because she's been awfully fussy again lately, especially in the evenings.
Aside from her fussiness, she seems to be sleeping for longer stretches at night. Last night, I think she got in about 4 hours in a row. Sometimes she fusses or even cries in her sleep a bit, but when I go to pick her up, her eyes are still closed. So I'll usually just let her fuss herself back to sleep. She's still tough to get to go to sleep at night. Last night, it was close to 11 before she finally fell asleep. But once she's out, she seems to go back to sleep after nursing pretty easily at night. Usually. Anyway, I'm starting to feel a little more rested, which is nice.
I'll be doing some work from home this week, which is kind of a bummer. A project for work needs to get done this week though, and I offered to do the majority of it. I actually got quite a bit done today while Paul was home though, so I'm hoping it'll just be another few hours of work. It's actually sort of nice to have something else to think about, but it's hard to focus.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Night time
Well, I'm already off on my every day blogging plan, but that's all right. Flexibility is key!
Two nights ago, I discovered a trick to getting Regan to sleep a little longer and better: swaddling. I know, it's not exactly a secret. But she really hates to be swaddled for the first few minutes. She wails and wails and tries to kick her feet and work her arms loose. So I'd stopped doing it, thinking she wouldn't sleep if she was upset. But I tried it again the other night, letting her cry about it for a few minutes while I rocked her, and after her little tantrum, she feel into a great sleep. It seems to be working to get her to go back to sleep a little easier and sleep longer. Now if only I could stay awake through her feedings to put her back in her crib instead of falling asleep in the glider with her, we might both get a little rest!
Two nights ago, I discovered a trick to getting Regan to sleep a little longer and better: swaddling. I know, it's not exactly a secret. But she really hates to be swaddled for the first few minutes. She wails and wails and tries to kick her feet and work her arms loose. So I'd stopped doing it, thinking she wouldn't sleep if she was upset. But I tried it again the other night, letting her cry about it for a few minutes while I rocked her, and after her little tantrum, she feel into a great sleep. It seems to be working to get her to go back to sleep a little easier and sleep longer. Now if only I could stay awake through her feedings to put her back in her crib instead of falling asleep in the glider with her, we might both get a little rest!
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Sleep training?
Happy 1-month-birthday little Rey!
I'm going to try to start writing in this blog more often, maybe even every day. Usually it will probably be incredibly boring, but I'm going to use this as a way to help me track and notice patterns and probably to do some venting or unsolicited opinion sharing. It'll also hopefully remind me to take lots of pictures of Regan. I don't scrapbook or anything like that, so I'm terrible at remembering to take pictures, but maybe this will help.
Regan is just starting to stay awake for longer than a few minutes at a time. For the last couple of weeks, she has been pretty predictable. She wants to eat every two hours, almost like clockwork and around the clock. I've read that most babies will sleep for a somewhat extended time (3 or 4 hours) once a day or so, usually at night. Well, I haven't noticed that with Regan. I can usually predict when she'll wake up and start fussing to within a few minutes. If she does sleep for more than 2 hours, it's during the day when I'm thinking about other things and I don't always notice.
For the last couple of days though, she seems much less predictable. She might want to eat every 30 minutes for an hour or two, but only eat for a couple of minutes, and then sleep and/or play and/or cry for several hours before she gets hungry again. I'm not really sure what to make of it, but I'm hoping it means she might be ready for some sleep training. I'll be doing some reading on that.
The other trouble I'm having is that she often will only sleep if she's being held. I love holding and snuggling with her often, but I just can't do it all day and night. The best sleep I get right now is a couple of hours sitting in our glider chair with Regan on a pillow in my lap. I'm afraid she's becoming a comfort nurser, but I don't know what to do to stop that.
Any thoughts on sleeping training a 1-month-old? Am I behind the curve? Or should I let her continue completely on her own schedule for a while longer?
I'm going to try to start writing in this blog more often, maybe even every day. Usually it will probably be incredibly boring, but I'm going to use this as a way to help me track and notice patterns and probably to do some venting or unsolicited opinion sharing. It'll also hopefully remind me to take lots of pictures of Regan. I don't scrapbook or anything like that, so I'm terrible at remembering to take pictures, but maybe this will help.
Regan is just starting to stay awake for longer than a few minutes at a time. For the last couple of weeks, she has been pretty predictable. She wants to eat every two hours, almost like clockwork and around the clock. I've read that most babies will sleep for a somewhat extended time (3 or 4 hours) once a day or so, usually at night. Well, I haven't noticed that with Regan. I can usually predict when she'll wake up and start fussing to within a few minutes. If she does sleep for more than 2 hours, it's during the day when I'm thinking about other things and I don't always notice.
For the last couple of days though, she seems much less predictable. She might want to eat every 30 minutes for an hour or two, but only eat for a couple of minutes, and then sleep and/or play and/or cry for several hours before she gets hungry again. I'm not really sure what to make of it, but I'm hoping it means she might be ready for some sleep training. I'll be doing some reading on that.
The other trouble I'm having is that she often will only sleep if she's being held. I love holding and snuggling with her often, but I just can't do it all day and night. The best sleep I get right now is a couple of hours sitting in our glider chair with Regan on a pillow in my lap. I'm afraid she's becoming a comfort nurser, but I don't know what to do to stop that.
Any thoughts on sleeping training a 1-month-old? Am I behind the curve? Or should I let her continue completely on her own schedule for a while longer?
Friday, November 4, 2011
Breastfeeding
I want to share my experience with breastfeeding so far because I think it's important to help myself remember the struggles and also to hopefully help or encourage other new moms to stick with it. If it's TMI for you, then skip this post. To the other new moms: everyone will tell you that it gets easier and to stick with it. Believe them. Give it longer than you think can, and if you're like Regan and me, one day it'll just click. I think my experience is pretty typical, and there are tons of other circumstances that I can't speak to. This is just my own.
Unless you've breastfed before, there's really no way to explain or understand why it can be so difficult. I went to the hospital's breastfeeding class, I read the books, talked to the lactation consultants and got all the advice I thought I'd need. Paul didn't really understand why I needed all that info. Breastfeeding just comes naturally, right? Not exactly.
Regan came out rooting for food. She was hungry right away and ready to eat. The nurse helped me get her latched on within an hour of her birth, and then commented that she was one of the easiest babies to get latched that she'd ever had. I thought, "Great! We'll have no trouble nursing and everything will be wonderful!" Well, it wasn't easy.
As soon as I got Regan home, it was like she forgot how to suck. I'd struggle to get her fragile, wiggling little body positioned just right, and she'd just root around and cry and flop her head back and forth. I felt so helpless. I could only do so much for her - I couldn't make her suck. Or she'd cry for food but fall asleep as soon as I cradled her, and wouldn't wake up for anything! Meanwhile, my breasts got more and more engorged, making it harder and harder for her to get latched on and more and more painful for me. There is no worse feeling in the world, I think, than knowing your baby is hungry and not being able to feed her. And all of this while sore from the delivery, hormonal and before any adjustment to the sleep deprivation had kicked in.
I reached out for help from my mom, my friends on Facebook, my husband and the lactation nurses at the hospital. Without all of them, I very likely would have given up in the first week. A friend brought over a really nice breast pump for me to use. If I'm ever asked for advice on breastfeeding, it will be this: get a good pump BEFORE the baby's born. I had planned to buy one, but the suckers are around $300 and I was putting it off because I didn't think I'd need one right away. But that pump has been invaluable. At first, I pumped just to relieve some of the engorgement, and that helped Regan get latched on. But she still wasn't able to latch consistently, and she needed to be fed. So late one night, after she'd been crying and crying and I couldn't take it any more, I gave in and fed her a bottle of pumped breast milk. I cried while she ate because I'd been told that introducing a bottle to a newborn might mean she'd never breastfeed again. Paul put his head to mine and told me that I was doing something I didn't like for the sake of my baby's health, and that that alone made me a great mom. I cried, but it felt better to know that my little girl wasn't hungry any more.
I was so pleased when Regan didn't seem at all confused by the bottle vs. the breast. She seemed able to switch back and forth with no problem at all, or at least breastfeeding didn't get any more difficult than it already was. It still took about three and a half weeks to really get the hang of it, but I knew that I could give her a bottle when we both couldn't take struggling with it any more. The relief of some of that stress I think actually helped us get the hang of it. I always tried to nurse her first, but she had lots of bottles in those early weeks, always of breast milk. And slowly, the bottle feedings got less and less frequent. Now we only give her bottles when I need to get out to run errands or something without her or when Paul is nice enough to do some nighttime feedings so I can get a little more sleep. It's the best of both worlds. And still, not a drop of formula has passed her lips. I'm not against formula feeding, and I certainly understand why someone would do it, but I'm glad we haven't needed it.
So to the new moms or soon-to-be new moms out there who want to breastfeed, ask for help and don't give up. Most moms are happy to help or to simply be a cheerleader. Remember that almost every breastfeeding mom has been through it and you're not alone, even at 4 a.m. when you feel like you and this crying baby are the only beings on the planet. I didn't even talk about the pain or discomfort of breastfeeding in those first weeks. It can be intense, but soon it won't hurt at all. Like a lot of things about being a new parent, just when you think you can't take it anymore, something changes and it gets easier. Right now, the sleep deprivation alone makes it tempting to switch to formula so she'll sleep for more than two hours at a time. But I try to remember that even though this period feels like it'll never end, I'll look back on it soon and it'll feel like a blink. I might even miss it.
Unless you've breastfed before, there's really no way to explain or understand why it can be so difficult. I went to the hospital's breastfeeding class, I read the books, talked to the lactation consultants and got all the advice I thought I'd need. Paul didn't really understand why I needed all that info. Breastfeeding just comes naturally, right? Not exactly.
Regan came out rooting for food. She was hungry right away and ready to eat. The nurse helped me get her latched on within an hour of her birth, and then commented that she was one of the easiest babies to get latched that she'd ever had. I thought, "Great! We'll have no trouble nursing and everything will be wonderful!" Well, it wasn't easy.
As soon as I got Regan home, it was like she forgot how to suck. I'd struggle to get her fragile, wiggling little body positioned just right, and she'd just root around and cry and flop her head back and forth. I felt so helpless. I could only do so much for her - I couldn't make her suck. Or she'd cry for food but fall asleep as soon as I cradled her, and wouldn't wake up for anything! Meanwhile, my breasts got more and more engorged, making it harder and harder for her to get latched on and more and more painful for me. There is no worse feeling in the world, I think, than knowing your baby is hungry and not being able to feed her. And all of this while sore from the delivery, hormonal and before any adjustment to the sleep deprivation had kicked in.
I reached out for help from my mom, my friends on Facebook, my husband and the lactation nurses at the hospital. Without all of them, I very likely would have given up in the first week. A friend brought over a really nice breast pump for me to use. If I'm ever asked for advice on breastfeeding, it will be this: get a good pump BEFORE the baby's born. I had planned to buy one, but the suckers are around $300 and I was putting it off because I didn't think I'd need one right away. But that pump has been invaluable. At first, I pumped just to relieve some of the engorgement, and that helped Regan get latched on. But she still wasn't able to latch consistently, and she needed to be fed. So late one night, after she'd been crying and crying and I couldn't take it any more, I gave in and fed her a bottle of pumped breast milk. I cried while she ate because I'd been told that introducing a bottle to a newborn might mean she'd never breastfeed again. Paul put his head to mine and told me that I was doing something I didn't like for the sake of my baby's health, and that that alone made me a great mom. I cried, but it felt better to know that my little girl wasn't hungry any more.
I was so pleased when Regan didn't seem at all confused by the bottle vs. the breast. She seemed able to switch back and forth with no problem at all, or at least breastfeeding didn't get any more difficult than it already was. It still took about three and a half weeks to really get the hang of it, but I knew that I could give her a bottle when we both couldn't take struggling with it any more. The relief of some of that stress I think actually helped us get the hang of it. I always tried to nurse her first, but she had lots of bottles in those early weeks, always of breast milk. And slowly, the bottle feedings got less and less frequent. Now we only give her bottles when I need to get out to run errands or something without her or when Paul is nice enough to do some nighttime feedings so I can get a little more sleep. It's the best of both worlds. And still, not a drop of formula has passed her lips. I'm not against formula feeding, and I certainly understand why someone would do it, but I'm glad we haven't needed it.
So to the new moms or soon-to-be new moms out there who want to breastfeed, ask for help and don't give up. Most moms are happy to help or to simply be a cheerleader. Remember that almost every breastfeeding mom has been through it and you're not alone, even at 4 a.m. when you feel like you and this crying baby are the only beings on the planet. I didn't even talk about the pain or discomfort of breastfeeding in those first weeks. It can be intense, but soon it won't hurt at all. Like a lot of things about being a new parent, just when you think you can't take it anymore, something changes and it gets easier. Right now, the sleep deprivation alone makes it tempting to switch to formula so she'll sleep for more than two hours at a time. But I try to remember that even though this period feels like it'll never end, I'll look back on it soon and it'll feel like a blink. I might even miss it.
Growing stronger
My sister said it best when told me to be real, not try to be perfect. So I'll admit it. This is hard. Don't get me wrong, I'm still counting my blessings every day. But this is tough.
Everything from TV commercials to "informational" booklets, etc. portray this beautiful little glowing, rose-colored world of perfect babies that never cry for hours for no reason and parents who just smile and coo and snuggle all day. Of course I knew it wouldn't be like that all the time, but I didn't really expect to have a baby that cried constantly. At least it seems constant. And listening to her cry is like torture to me. I guess there's some kind of hormone (or just effective evolution, maybe?) that makes a baby's cry so aggravating to adults. So I try to tell myself that everything is as it should be. But "mind over matter" goes right out the nursery window at 4 a.m. when I've been up every hour so she can nurse for 4 minutes and then lie awake or cry for another 30. And then we start again an hour later. Who knew I'd sleep so well sitting in a rocking chair?
Still, the truth is that no matter how exhausted and worn down I am, I'd still rather be here than anywhere else. It's sort of a strange double emotion. At the same time that I'm ready to hand Regan off to Paul and run off to live on the beach for the next 3 months, I also don't like the thought of leaving her in anyone's arms but mine.
I can say that I can see progress. Breastfeeding has gotten SO much easier. When Regan's hungry, she latches right on, nurses for a few minutes and either goes back to sleep or is at least content for a while. It's a huge load off my shoulders to know that at least she's getting enough to eat.
Here's what I've learned in the last couple of days: Usually just when I think my nerves can't handle another second, something changes and gets better. When I started writing this blog post a couple of days ago, Regan had been crying off and on (mostly on) from about 8 p.m. to midnight for the last several nights and occasionally throughout the days as well. But for the last two or three days, she has barely cried at all. We're starting to figure out how to soothe her and what she likes and doesn't like. It has been a much more pleasant few days and really makes me appreciate the quiet moments.
Change is difficult, and Regan and I are both growing. I knew that having a baby would change me forever, but I guess I didn't really think about how that change would happen and what it would do to me emotionally. Like a good workout, I'm being worn down right now so that I can be built back up stronger. The process is hard and sometimes painful, but worth it.
Everything from TV commercials to "informational" booklets, etc. portray this beautiful little glowing, rose-colored world of perfect babies that never cry for hours for no reason and parents who just smile and coo and snuggle all day. Of course I knew it wouldn't be like that all the time, but I didn't really expect to have a baby that cried constantly. At least it seems constant. And listening to her cry is like torture to me. I guess there's some kind of hormone (or just effective evolution, maybe?) that makes a baby's cry so aggravating to adults. So I try to tell myself that everything is as it should be. But "mind over matter" goes right out the nursery window at 4 a.m. when I've been up every hour so she can nurse for 4 minutes and then lie awake or cry for another 30. And then we start again an hour later. Who knew I'd sleep so well sitting in a rocking chair?
Still, the truth is that no matter how exhausted and worn down I am, I'd still rather be here than anywhere else. It's sort of a strange double emotion. At the same time that I'm ready to hand Regan off to Paul and run off to live on the beach for the next 3 months, I also don't like the thought of leaving her in anyone's arms but mine.
I can say that I can see progress. Breastfeeding has gotten SO much easier. When Regan's hungry, she latches right on, nurses for a few minutes and either goes back to sleep or is at least content for a while. It's a huge load off my shoulders to know that at least she's getting enough to eat.
Here's what I've learned in the last couple of days: Usually just when I think my nerves can't handle another second, something changes and gets better. When I started writing this blog post a couple of days ago, Regan had been crying off and on (mostly on) from about 8 p.m. to midnight for the last several nights and occasionally throughout the days as well. But for the last two or three days, she has barely cried at all. We're starting to figure out how to soothe her and what she likes and doesn't like. It has been a much more pleasant few days and really makes me appreciate the quiet moments.
Change is difficult, and Regan and I are both growing. I knew that having a baby would change me forever, but I guess I didn't really think about how that change would happen and what it would do to me emotionally. Like a good workout, I'm being worn down right now so that I can be built back up stronger. The process is hard and sometimes painful, but worth it.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
She's Here!
Wow, it's tough to sit down and write for any period of time with a newborn around. They're needy little critters! It has taken me 3 weeks to get this done.
Regan Lynne was born at 12:02 a.m. on Sunday, Oct. 9! She was 7 lbs. 9 oz., 20 1/4 inches long and wonderfully healthy.
The whole story is a long one, but I want to record it here for my own sake as well as for anyone else that's really that interested. But I wouldn't blame anyone for not reading this whole thing!
It started on Thursday, Oct. 6, at my regular doctor's appointment. It was one week and one day before my due date of Oct. 14. Everything was normal and healthy (though Dr. Beveridge had me come back that afternoon for an ultrasound to check fluid levels, which were normal) but he suggested we go ahead and set a date for induction in the next week. He said the baby was already around 8 lbs., and with my Factor 5, there was some increased risk of blood clots in letting the pregnancy last much longer. I didn't really want to be induced, but the truth is that I was really ready and excited to meet Regan. Plus, I just had a feeling that she wasn't going anywhere any time soon. I was only at 1 cm., I'd had no contractions (actually, I think I was contracting a little, but I didn't know what they were) and Regan was still really high up. Dr. Beveridge said I could basically choose any day I wanted, but encouraged me to choose a day that he'd be on call, I suppose because he suggested the induction and because I'd seen him the most of all the doctors. He was going to be on call that weekend, or I could wait another week or so. After talking to Paul, we just decided to go for it that weekend. It's strange being able to choose the day you go into labor. Paul didn't even have to miss a day of classes! Anyway, we chose to go in that Saturday at 7:30 a.m. to get started.
Somehow, I managed to work the rest of that day. I told my boss and the person who'd be filling in for me that I wouldn't be back after that day until January. I did my best to wrap up a bunch of final stuff, and I took Friday off to rest and get the house clean, since I wouldn't have another good opportunity for cleaning for a while. Paul and I were really excited, and I was starting to get nervous. I actually did sleep fairly well those two nights, but come Saturday morning I was really, really nervous. I knew I wouldn't be able to eat for a long time, so I'd planned to have a nice, big breakfast. But all I could manage to get into my turning stomach was a bowl of cereal. At about 7:15 a.m., we put Pax in his kennel, gathered up our things and headed out. We got checked in, shown to our room, I put on the lovely hospital gown and it was go time.
Honestly, as I'm sure most women who've had babies would agree, the day is kind of a blur. Dr. Beveridge came in sometime that morning and started me on a pill that was supposed to get contractions started. I don't remember if that first dose worked very well because I think I had three doses of that throughout the day. When contractions did start and we could watch them on the monitor, I realized that maybe I had been contracting a little for the last couple of weeks. It didn't feel anything like I expected it to. It really just felt like Regan moving and pushing up against me. It didn't hurt at all, but I could see the line on the monitor go up with each one. That part of the day was pretty fun and exciting.
It started snowing sometime that morning, and within a couple of hours it was a full on fall blizzard! The first snow of the year. Thank goodness it didn't make the roads too terrible, because my parents and Paul's parents drove in that morning. They arrived around 10 a.m. At that point, the mood was pretty relaxed and excited. We were watching sitcoms on TV and watching the snow come down outside the window, which overlooked the Capitol building.
Of course, at some point the contractions got worse. I really don't remember the timing of things, but I know that they still didn't feel anything like I expected. I never really got the up-and-down peaks and valleys that I expected. They basically just went from bad to worse - like period cramps amplified times 100. I was strapped in to a whole mess of cords and monitors most of the time, which made it really difficult to move around. But I didn't really want to anyway. I remember lying on my right side, holding Paul's hand a lot. There were still a lot of people in the room, but I barely knew they were there. At one point I asked Paul to mute the TV, and I think they watched football. They were good about keeping their voices low, and I just tried my best to relax and breathe. But without a break in between contractions, relaxing seemed impossible. I know my family wanted to do more for me, but I really didn't want to be touched or talked to. I just really wanted Paul there with me, holding my hand.
I think sometime in the early evening, the doctor came back in and checked me. I remember joking with him that if he told me I was still at 1 cm. that I'd kick him in the shins. That time, checking my dilation was the most painful thing of the day. It brought tears to my eyes, and I really did want to kick him. When he said I was about 1.5 cm., I didn't kick him, but I did cry. I couldn't believe that after all that, I'd barely made any progress. Even though it was still early, the doctor said I could go ahead and get an epidural if I wanted one. I never planned on giving birth without pain medication, but I did think that I'd be able to get further along without it, and I felt pretty defeated. A fantastic nurse named Trina gave me an awesome pep talk. She told me I was doing great, and that the nurses had noticed back at the nurses' station that I wasn't getting a break between contractions and that I was having a lot of them. I just remember feeling like a wimp, and she really made me feel better. Sometime shortly after that, I think, the doctor broke my water. The contractions got a lot worse, and I was ready for that epidural. I think I got it around 7 p.m.
The epidural felt rather strange. The needle hurt for a few seconds, but the world quickly returned to focus after being blurred from the pain, and then I felt great. The strange part was not being able to move my legs. At all. It was so odd to have zero control, like they belonged to someone else. If I tried to sit up a little with my knees bent, my legs would just flop over. It was pretty funny and we laughed about it.
Anyway, I really don't remember much about the time between when I got the epidural and the birth. I know that Paul's dad and Ann left for the hotel to try to get some rest, and I think my dad did the same. At some point, I guess around 10:30 p.m., I measured around 5 cm. We asked the nurse when we should call the family to come back, and she suggested waiting until about 8 cm. It must have been several hours later, but I could swear it was just a few minutes later that a resident came in announced that and I was at 9 cm. and we needed Dr. Beveridge ASAP. That must have been around 11:30 p.m. Paul quickly called the family, and the room filled up with people in scrubs.
At some point earlier, the doctor was a bit worried about Regan's heart rate because it was dropping a little too low with the contractions. He had put one of those monitors in her head to measure more accurately, so I knew that he was at least a little concerned. If he was more than a little concerned, he did a good job of hiding it from me. I started pushing when he told me to, with my mom's excited encouragement in my ear and Paul right next to me. Mom's encouragement was great, but I remember telling her to not be so loud because I couldn't hear the doctor's directions. I don't even know if he was giving any, but I wanted to be able to hear him if he was. Anyway, I think within maybe 2 contractions of pushing, the doctor told me that we needed to get Regan out as soon as possible, and that a vacuum or forceps might have to be used. Everyone told me just to push as hard as I could to get her out. So I did. I got to feel her head with my hand as she was crowning, and after just 10 minutes of pushing, she was out!
The nurses took her to the warmer because she needed some attention right away, but I heard her first cries and we cried together. Paul put his head to mine and we all cried. A few minutes later, they brought her over to me and laid her on my chest, and we just looked at each other. I talked to her and cried some more. She was so alert and calm, and her eyes were so beautiful. I was in total awe. And I cried all over again when they first handed her to Paul. Again, everything is a bit blurry, but at some point I asked what time she was born because I knew it had to have been right around midnight. It was 12:02 a.m., making her birthday Sunday, Oct. 9, 2011. Shortly after the doctor was done fixing me up (I needed a couple stitches - ladies, that's one thing they don't tell you about in the movies!) the family was called in and cameras were clicking all over the place. They cleaned her up, Paul put on her first diaper and they did all the initial newborn checks. She was perfect.
I learned later that Regan's cord had been wrapped around her neck. My mom was really impressed with Dr. Beveridge, who had the cord clamped and cut within a few seconds. There was also some concern over Regan possibly having some kind of infection because either she or I had a slight fever. But she didn't. The nurse apparently gave her a couple quick breaths of air to get her going on her own (I'm not sure how common that is, but apparently it's not all that unusual.) In any case, she was perfectly healthy. One of my absolute worst fears was having a sick baby. The feelings of relief and awe as I held her in my arms was incredible.
I could write a novel about all that has happened since she was born, with coming home, breastfeeding, adjusting to mommy-hood, sleep deprivation and all that. I'll try to make more regular (and shorter) posts on that kind of stuff. Anyway, we're both doing great!
Regan Lynne was born at 12:02 a.m. on Sunday, Oct. 9! She was 7 lbs. 9 oz., 20 1/4 inches long and wonderfully healthy.
The whole story is a long one, but I want to record it here for my own sake as well as for anyone else that's really that interested. But I wouldn't blame anyone for not reading this whole thing!
It started on Thursday, Oct. 6, at my regular doctor's appointment. It was one week and one day before my due date of Oct. 14. Everything was normal and healthy (though Dr. Beveridge had me come back that afternoon for an ultrasound to check fluid levels, which were normal) but he suggested we go ahead and set a date for induction in the next week. He said the baby was already around 8 lbs., and with my Factor 5, there was some increased risk of blood clots in letting the pregnancy last much longer. I didn't really want to be induced, but the truth is that I was really ready and excited to meet Regan. Plus, I just had a feeling that she wasn't going anywhere any time soon. I was only at 1 cm., I'd had no contractions (actually, I think I was contracting a little, but I didn't know what they were) and Regan was still really high up. Dr. Beveridge said I could basically choose any day I wanted, but encouraged me to choose a day that he'd be on call, I suppose because he suggested the induction and because I'd seen him the most of all the doctors. He was going to be on call that weekend, or I could wait another week or so. After talking to Paul, we just decided to go for it that weekend. It's strange being able to choose the day you go into labor. Paul didn't even have to miss a day of classes! Anyway, we chose to go in that Saturday at 7:30 a.m. to get started.
Somehow, I managed to work the rest of that day. I told my boss and the person who'd be filling in for me that I wouldn't be back after that day until January. I did my best to wrap up a bunch of final stuff, and I took Friday off to rest and get the house clean, since I wouldn't have another good opportunity for cleaning for a while. Paul and I were really excited, and I was starting to get nervous. I actually did sleep fairly well those two nights, but come Saturday morning I was really, really nervous. I knew I wouldn't be able to eat for a long time, so I'd planned to have a nice, big breakfast. But all I could manage to get into my turning stomach was a bowl of cereal. At about 7:15 a.m., we put Pax in his kennel, gathered up our things and headed out. We got checked in, shown to our room, I put on the lovely hospital gown and it was go time.
Honestly, as I'm sure most women who've had babies would agree, the day is kind of a blur. Dr. Beveridge came in sometime that morning and started me on a pill that was supposed to get contractions started. I don't remember if that first dose worked very well because I think I had three doses of that throughout the day. When contractions did start and we could watch them on the monitor, I realized that maybe I had been contracting a little for the last couple of weeks. It didn't feel anything like I expected it to. It really just felt like Regan moving and pushing up against me. It didn't hurt at all, but I could see the line on the monitor go up with each one. That part of the day was pretty fun and exciting.
It started snowing sometime that morning, and within a couple of hours it was a full on fall blizzard! The first snow of the year. Thank goodness it didn't make the roads too terrible, because my parents and Paul's parents drove in that morning. They arrived around 10 a.m. At that point, the mood was pretty relaxed and excited. We were watching sitcoms on TV and watching the snow come down outside the window, which overlooked the Capitol building.
Of course, at some point the contractions got worse. I really don't remember the timing of things, but I know that they still didn't feel anything like I expected. I never really got the up-and-down peaks and valleys that I expected. They basically just went from bad to worse - like period cramps amplified times 100. I was strapped in to a whole mess of cords and monitors most of the time, which made it really difficult to move around. But I didn't really want to anyway. I remember lying on my right side, holding Paul's hand a lot. There were still a lot of people in the room, but I barely knew they were there. At one point I asked Paul to mute the TV, and I think they watched football. They were good about keeping their voices low, and I just tried my best to relax and breathe. But without a break in between contractions, relaxing seemed impossible. I know my family wanted to do more for me, but I really didn't want to be touched or talked to. I just really wanted Paul there with me, holding my hand.
I think sometime in the early evening, the doctor came back in and checked me. I remember joking with him that if he told me I was still at 1 cm. that I'd kick him in the shins. That time, checking my dilation was the most painful thing of the day. It brought tears to my eyes, and I really did want to kick him. When he said I was about 1.5 cm., I didn't kick him, but I did cry. I couldn't believe that after all that, I'd barely made any progress. Even though it was still early, the doctor said I could go ahead and get an epidural if I wanted one. I never planned on giving birth without pain medication, but I did think that I'd be able to get further along without it, and I felt pretty defeated. A fantastic nurse named Trina gave me an awesome pep talk. She told me I was doing great, and that the nurses had noticed back at the nurses' station that I wasn't getting a break between contractions and that I was having a lot of them. I just remember feeling like a wimp, and she really made me feel better. Sometime shortly after that, I think, the doctor broke my water. The contractions got a lot worse, and I was ready for that epidural. I think I got it around 7 p.m.
The epidural felt rather strange. The needle hurt for a few seconds, but the world quickly returned to focus after being blurred from the pain, and then I felt great. The strange part was not being able to move my legs. At all. It was so odd to have zero control, like they belonged to someone else. If I tried to sit up a little with my knees bent, my legs would just flop over. It was pretty funny and we laughed about it.
Anyway, I really don't remember much about the time between when I got the epidural and the birth. I know that Paul's dad and Ann left for the hotel to try to get some rest, and I think my dad did the same. At some point, I guess around 10:30 p.m., I measured around 5 cm. We asked the nurse when we should call the family to come back, and she suggested waiting until about 8 cm. It must have been several hours later, but I could swear it was just a few minutes later that a resident came in announced that and I was at 9 cm. and we needed Dr. Beveridge ASAP. That must have been around 11:30 p.m. Paul quickly called the family, and the room filled up with people in scrubs.
At some point earlier, the doctor was a bit worried about Regan's heart rate because it was dropping a little too low with the contractions. He had put one of those monitors in her head to measure more accurately, so I knew that he was at least a little concerned. If he was more than a little concerned, he did a good job of hiding it from me. I started pushing when he told me to, with my mom's excited encouragement in my ear and Paul right next to me. Mom's encouragement was great, but I remember telling her to not be so loud because I couldn't hear the doctor's directions. I don't even know if he was giving any, but I wanted to be able to hear him if he was. Anyway, I think within maybe 2 contractions of pushing, the doctor told me that we needed to get Regan out as soon as possible, and that a vacuum or forceps might have to be used. Everyone told me just to push as hard as I could to get her out. So I did. I got to feel her head with my hand as she was crowning, and after just 10 minutes of pushing, she was out!
The nurses took her to the warmer because she needed some attention right away, but I heard her first cries and we cried together. Paul put his head to mine and we all cried. A few minutes later, they brought her over to me and laid her on my chest, and we just looked at each other. I talked to her and cried some more. She was so alert and calm, and her eyes were so beautiful. I was in total awe. And I cried all over again when they first handed her to Paul. Again, everything is a bit blurry, but at some point I asked what time she was born because I knew it had to have been right around midnight. It was 12:02 a.m., making her birthday Sunday, Oct. 9, 2011. Shortly after the doctor was done fixing me up (I needed a couple stitches - ladies, that's one thing they don't tell you about in the movies!) the family was called in and cameras were clicking all over the place. They cleaned her up, Paul put on her first diaper and they did all the initial newborn checks. She was perfect.
I learned later that Regan's cord had been wrapped around her neck. My mom was really impressed with Dr. Beveridge, who had the cord clamped and cut within a few seconds. There was also some concern over Regan possibly having some kind of infection because either she or I had a slight fever. But she didn't. The nurse apparently gave her a couple quick breaths of air to get her going on her own (I'm not sure how common that is, but apparently it's not all that unusual.) In any case, she was perfectly healthy. One of my absolute worst fears was having a sick baby. The feelings of relief and awe as I held her in my arms was incredible.
I could write a novel about all that has happened since she was born, with coming home, breastfeeding, adjusting to mommy-hood, sleep deprivation and all that. I'll try to make more regular (and shorter) posts on that kind of stuff. Anyway, we're both doing great!
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Any minute now
Lots of updates to catch up on!
First, I LOVED my baby shower! It was a fairly small gathering of many of my favorite women in my life, and it was just perfect. I felt so much love and support and excitement. I just can't wait for everyone to meet Regan. She is so loved it makes my heart swell. Heather even came all the way from Texas and surprised me!! What a great friend. I spent most of the next day washing, folding and putting tiny little girl clothes away in the nursery. Best weekend ever!
A couple of days ago, Regan and I had our first somewhat scary day. It all turned out to be fine, but for the hundredth time in this pregnancy, I thanked God and the stars for how lucky we've been. I went to my regular doc's appointment on Thursday. They had scheduled an ultrasound to make sure the amount of fluid around her was still okay because she's getting so big! That went great. No issues, fluid was fine, baby was moving around. Then they did my regular non-stress test, which they do for us every week now because I have a blood clotting disorder that makes my pregnancy a little riskier (or maybe a lot riskier - I don't really want to know) than normal. A non-stress test is simple. The nurse just straps the baby heart rate monitor and contraction monitor around my belly, and I get to lie in a recliner for 15 minutes while a machine measures her heart rate and movements. My favorite time of the week, usually! After about 10 minutes this time, the nurse showed the results to the doc, and came back in the room telling me I needed to head to Labor and Deliver at the hospital. She was very calm, told me not to worry and that the docs do this all the time. It was really just a precaution because the baby didn't seem very active, and they have better equipment and tests at the hospital. I was pretty calm about it; Regan had just been kicking me like crazy in the waiting room. But it was hard not to get nervous. So I went to the hospital, got registered (don't have to pre-register anymore, so that's one step done!) and was escorted into an L&D room. Paul was in class in Laramie, so I was on my own except for phone calls. I put on the gown, laid in the bed, got strapped into the same monitors and Regan almost immediately started moving around and being perfectly active. Of course I still had to lie there for 2 hours to make sure, but everything was fine and I went back to work. No one likes to be told to head to the hospital right away, but I'm glad my docs are being cautious.
And, final update: We made it to 37 weeks! Yay mommy and baby girl! The 37-week mark also marked something I'd been anticipating and dreading a bit since I did the math on my due date: the Dog Jog. The Dog Jog is an annual fundraiser for the Cheyenne Animal Shelter, which is where I work. And, being the marketing/fundraiser/community relations/media relations/catch all position I'm in, I get the privilege of organizing the Dog Jog. It's a 3-mile run or 1-mile walk in the park to raise money. Now, if they made me actually do the walk, I might not have made it. Walking from the registration tent to the bake sale tent was tough enough. But I did make it through the day, and with just a few grimaces. In fact, there was a woman there who looked just as pregnant as I am who did the 1-mile walk. More power to ya, sister. I'm gonna go have a seat in the shade.
I did a lot of delegating for this event. Being just 3 weeks before baby Regan is due, I knew there was a decent chance I wouldn't even make it out there. Still, I managed to stay very busy, and I'm very relieved that it's finished now. There are still lots of loose ends to wrap up at work, but the major stuff is done and now I feel like I can finally focus more on becoming a mommy. Now it's just a waiting game. My dad and I both have a feeling she'll come about a week early, which would put her arrival around Oct. 7. Two weeks from yesterday. If it happens that way, Paul and I have just one more weekend before we become parents. Crazy thought. Maybe we'll go club hopping.
Love to all!
First, I LOVED my baby shower! It was a fairly small gathering of many of my favorite women in my life, and it was just perfect. I felt so much love and support and excitement. I just can't wait for everyone to meet Regan. She is so loved it makes my heart swell. Heather even came all the way from Texas and surprised me!! What a great friend. I spent most of the next day washing, folding and putting tiny little girl clothes away in the nursery. Best weekend ever!
A couple of days ago, Regan and I had our first somewhat scary day. It all turned out to be fine, but for the hundredth time in this pregnancy, I thanked God and the stars for how lucky we've been. I went to my regular doc's appointment on Thursday. They had scheduled an ultrasound to make sure the amount of fluid around her was still okay because she's getting so big! That went great. No issues, fluid was fine, baby was moving around. Then they did my regular non-stress test, which they do for us every week now because I have a blood clotting disorder that makes my pregnancy a little riskier (or maybe a lot riskier - I don't really want to know) than normal. A non-stress test is simple. The nurse just straps the baby heart rate monitor and contraction monitor around my belly, and I get to lie in a recliner for 15 minutes while a machine measures her heart rate and movements. My favorite time of the week, usually! After about 10 minutes this time, the nurse showed the results to the doc, and came back in the room telling me I needed to head to Labor and Deliver at the hospital. She was very calm, told me not to worry and that the docs do this all the time. It was really just a precaution because the baby didn't seem very active, and they have better equipment and tests at the hospital. I was pretty calm about it; Regan had just been kicking me like crazy in the waiting room. But it was hard not to get nervous. So I went to the hospital, got registered (don't have to pre-register anymore, so that's one step done!) and was escorted into an L&D room. Paul was in class in Laramie, so I was on my own except for phone calls. I put on the gown, laid in the bed, got strapped into the same monitors and Regan almost immediately started moving around and being perfectly active. Of course I still had to lie there for 2 hours to make sure, but everything was fine and I went back to work. No one likes to be told to head to the hospital right away, but I'm glad my docs are being cautious.
And, final update: We made it to 37 weeks! Yay mommy and baby girl! The 37-week mark also marked something I'd been anticipating and dreading a bit since I did the math on my due date: the Dog Jog. The Dog Jog is an annual fundraiser for the Cheyenne Animal Shelter, which is where I work. And, being the marketing/fundraiser/community relations/media relations/catch all position I'm in, I get the privilege of organizing the Dog Jog. It's a 3-mile run or 1-mile walk in the park to raise money. Now, if they made me actually do the walk, I might not have made it. Walking from the registration tent to the bake sale tent was tough enough. But I did make it through the day, and with just a few grimaces. In fact, there was a woman there who looked just as pregnant as I am who did the 1-mile walk. More power to ya, sister. I'm gonna go have a seat in the shade.
I did a lot of delegating for this event. Being just 3 weeks before baby Regan is due, I knew there was a decent chance I wouldn't even make it out there. Still, I managed to stay very busy, and I'm very relieved that it's finished now. There are still lots of loose ends to wrap up at work, but the major stuff is done and now I feel like I can finally focus more on becoming a mommy. Now it's just a waiting game. My dad and I both have a feeling she'll come about a week early, which would put her arrival around Oct. 7. Two weeks from yesterday. If it happens that way, Paul and I have just one more weekend before we become parents. Crazy thought. Maybe we'll go club hopping.
Love to all!
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Ch-ch-ch-Changes
Whoa there, hormones. Easy. It's funny (or cruel) how raging hormones seem to amplify real and legitimate concerns, making it difficult to figure out if you're really as upset as you feel about something or just in a hormone-induced breakdown.
I wouldn't call last night's near-tearfest a breakdown. I only felt like crying while watching Paul play with the dog. Really, no tears escaped. But it was so sweet, the two of them jumping and running and having a grand old time like they do almost every night. Then it dawned on me. Everything is about to change. And even though there are some things about my life that I wouldn't mind changing, (no one is really, truly, 100% content, right? Otherwise there'd be no such thing as ambition.) but for the last several years, my relationship with my husband has been one of the only things that I'm really sure about. And it's about to change. How it will change, I don't know. It could even get stronger. But I always hear all these warnings: go on date nights, make time for the two of you alone, appreciate each other, and on and on. Life with a rugrat isn't easy, and the marriage can take the brunt. Imagining everything, I suddenly missed him.
For a second, he sat on the arm of the couch and I held his hand. I asked him not to change when we have a kid. He smiled and said okay, gave my head a rub, and went back to playing with the dog.
I already love my little girl more than I can say, of course. But our pastor once said something that has stuck with me. The Cliff's Notes version is something like this: don't let the kids become the heads of the household. Don't ignore the rest of the world if only to ensure that your child's every want is perfectly fulfilled. Don't forget to nurture your relationship with your spouse even while being parents. In the long run, your children's happiness will fall in line with your own, and a happy marriage is the best way to model happiness for them. So it might mean that occasionally the kiddos stay home when we go out to dinner. It might mean we send them to bed an hour early so mom and dad can watch a grown-up TV show, alone, with wine instead of milk. And that has to be okay.
Actually, Paul joked between ball-bounces, I was planning on becoming more loving when we have a kid. But if you don't want me to change ...
I laughed. More loving is always nice.
I wouldn't call last night's near-tearfest a breakdown. I only felt like crying while watching Paul play with the dog. Really, no tears escaped. But it was so sweet, the two of them jumping and running and having a grand old time like they do almost every night. Then it dawned on me. Everything is about to change. And even though there are some things about my life that I wouldn't mind changing, (no one is really, truly, 100% content, right? Otherwise there'd be no such thing as ambition.) but for the last several years, my relationship with my husband has been one of the only things that I'm really sure about. And it's about to change. How it will change, I don't know. It could even get stronger. But I always hear all these warnings: go on date nights, make time for the two of you alone, appreciate each other, and on and on. Life with a rugrat isn't easy, and the marriage can take the brunt. Imagining everything, I suddenly missed him.
For a second, he sat on the arm of the couch and I held his hand. I asked him not to change when we have a kid. He smiled and said okay, gave my head a rub, and went back to playing with the dog.
I already love my little girl more than I can say, of course. But our pastor once said something that has stuck with me. The Cliff's Notes version is something like this: don't let the kids become the heads of the household. Don't ignore the rest of the world if only to ensure that your child's every want is perfectly fulfilled. Don't forget to nurture your relationship with your spouse even while being parents. In the long run, your children's happiness will fall in line with your own, and a happy marriage is the best way to model happiness for them. So it might mean that occasionally the kiddos stay home when we go out to dinner. It might mean we send them to bed an hour early so mom and dad can watch a grown-up TV show, alone, with wine instead of milk. And that has to be okay.
Actually, Paul joked between ball-bounces, I was planning on becoming more loving when we have a kid. But if you don't want me to change ...
I laughed. More loving is always nice.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Is it October yet?
It has been 6 months since I jumped on the bed and woke up my husband to tell him we were going to have a baby. I'll never forget his reaction. Even though we had decided the month before to go for it, we were both surprised. I wasn't sure whether he'd be happy or terrified. The look in his sleepy eyes was a little of both, but he smiled when he said "oh my goodness." That smile told me everything I needed to know - that it might not always be easy, but he was happy and we would be okay. More than okay.
Now it's just 10 weeks from our due date. What I have dubbed our "crib quest" has been completed. (Thanks mom and dad!) We've moved the office furniture out of the second bedroom, gotten on a daycare waiting list and made a bunch of plans that I'm certain will be shattered once the baby comes, as plans so often are. My wonderful friends and family are planning my baby shower, and it's all getting real. Real and exciting and scary and right - just the way things are supposed to be.
I'm sometimes so blown away by the blessing of being pregnant that it's completely overwhelming. But I have to admit, much of the wide-eyed novelty has worn off. Blame it on the "honeymoon's over" third trimester or hormones or whatever, but I'm ready for that due date to come around. Of course I know that the next step is going to be the biggest, hardest, most life-changing experience I'll ever have, and that makes it a little scary. Okay, a lot scary. But you know that moment at the top of a giant water slide where you think "welp, no going back now!" and you plug your nose and take the plunge? I guess I'm about there.
Now it's just 10 weeks from our due date. What I have dubbed our "crib quest" has been completed. (Thanks mom and dad!) We've moved the office furniture out of the second bedroom, gotten on a daycare waiting list and made a bunch of plans that I'm certain will be shattered once the baby comes, as plans so often are. My wonderful friends and family are planning my baby shower, and it's all getting real. Real and exciting and scary and right - just the way things are supposed to be.
I'm sometimes so blown away by the blessing of being pregnant that it's completely overwhelming. But I have to admit, much of the wide-eyed novelty has worn off. Blame it on the "honeymoon's over" third trimester or hormones or whatever, but I'm ready for that due date to come around. Of course I know that the next step is going to be the biggest, hardest, most life-changing experience I'll ever have, and that makes it a little scary. Okay, a lot scary. But you know that moment at the top of a giant water slide where you think "welp, no going back now!" and you plug your nose and take the plunge? I guess I'm about there.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Not quite a fairy tale
I watch a lot of Youtube. Probably too much. I like to watch the videos that other moms or soon-to-be moms make about their pregnancies and families. However, there's a trend. I haven't found very many Youtube mommies who also work stressful jobs to support the family. Youtube seems to be chock full of stay at home moms who obsess over nursery details and teething toys. Now don't get me wrong, I honestly hope to be that kind of mom someday. I don't see anything at all wrong with staying home to raise children. In fact, I see a lot right about it. Still, it's not practical for us right now. So I'm always searching for a Youtube mom that I can relate to.
ANYway, my point is that my vision (thanks to Youtube) of what my 20-week ultrasound would be like was ... well ... a little off. I had dreams of watching jellybean floating through that grainy black-and-white screen, catching glimpses of his or her little face yawning or sucking a thumb. Hearing those words "it's a ----!" and getting a little teary eyed thinking about all that that simple declaration meant.
Instead, it went something like this.
Doc: "Baby's being a little squirmy, but there's an arm and a hand."
Me, squinting: "Okay..."
Doc: "There's a little open mouth."
Paul: "It's a Terminator baby!"
Doc, crushing what is surely an important internal organ: "Let's see if we can figure out what this kid is."
Me, shaky breath: "I'm feeling kinda sick..."
Doc, handing Paul some cool cloths: "Roll over on your side and take some deep breaths. This happens sometimes."
Me: "Okay, I'm okay now."
Doc: "Baby's legs are kind of squished together, but I'm about 80% sure it's a girl."
Me: "Okay, great! Can I get up now before I lose it in this nice sterile little room?"
All right, obviously that's the Cliff's Notes version. The rest of the story here is that I was quite sick last Friday for our "big" appointment. So sick, in fact, that Paul and I (and jellybean) ended up in the ER later that night. I managed to catch some kind of virus that had me shaking the whole house with fever chills and practically delirious with migraine pain. So the experience likely would have been much smoother had that bug been squashed beforehand.
Still, time to start buying pink! Or maybe stuff that's just 80% pink. Shrug. Everything else Doc checked looked great, normal and healthy. And she's doing fine even after the bug caught me. Sometimes I feel so lucky about how healthy baby and I have been that I just start waiting for something to go wrong. Those thoughts are usually drowned out by this one: We're having a baby girl! Yipee!
ANYway, my point is that my vision (thanks to Youtube) of what my 20-week ultrasound would be like was ... well ... a little off. I had dreams of watching jellybean floating through that grainy black-and-white screen, catching glimpses of his or her little face yawning or sucking a thumb. Hearing those words "it's a ----!" and getting a little teary eyed thinking about all that that simple declaration meant.
Instead, it went something like this.
Doc: "Baby's being a little squirmy, but there's an arm and a hand."
Me, squinting: "Okay..."
Doc: "There's a little open mouth."
Paul: "It's a Terminator baby!"
Doc, crushing what is surely an important internal organ: "Let's see if we can figure out what this kid is."
Me, shaky breath: "I'm feeling kinda sick..."
Doc, handing Paul some cool cloths: "Roll over on your side and take some deep breaths. This happens sometimes."
Me: "Okay, I'm okay now."
Doc: "Baby's legs are kind of squished together, but I'm about 80% sure it's a girl."
Me: "Okay, great! Can I get up now before I lose it in this nice sterile little room?"
All right, obviously that's the Cliff's Notes version. The rest of the story here is that I was quite sick last Friday for our "big" appointment. So sick, in fact, that Paul and I (and jellybean) ended up in the ER later that night. I managed to catch some kind of virus that had me shaking the whole house with fever chills and practically delirious with migraine pain. So the experience likely would have been much smoother had that bug been squashed beforehand.
Still, time to start buying pink! Or maybe stuff that's just 80% pink. Shrug. Everything else Doc checked looked great, normal and healthy. And she's doing fine even after the bug caught me. Sometimes I feel so lucky about how healthy baby and I have been that I just start waiting for something to go wrong. Those thoughts are usually drowned out by this one: We're having a baby girl! Yipee!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Starting in the middle
Usually, starting is the hardest part. Once I've got that down, I can run on momentum for a while. Sorta like learning how to drive a stick shift. So I'm skipping the start and starting in the middle. (Wish I could have done that with my first car!) I could start at the beginning but that would mean choosing a beginning, and I don't know which one to choose. Besides, I'm a rebel. Beginning, middle and end. Psh.
Anyway, here's what the middle looks like: Working fewer hours than it seems on most weeks at a job that wouldn't be nearly as stressful if I didn't have a boss that is a bear to work for. But for now, stress is the name of the game. Married just over two years to someone I still look forward to coming home to each night. And we're expecting our first little rugrat in October, unless you count the 4-legged variety of rugrat. In that case, we're expecting our fourth in October.
That's right. No longer "newlyweds" (didn't that end at the first anniversary anyway?) and now new parents. Yikes. Being a newlywed was easy. New mommy, even just a soon-to-be new mommy? Not so much. Fun? Yes. Easy? No.
I don't mean to complain. In fact, I feel very very lucky that my pregnancy has been so easy. I'm 16 weeks along and the worst was a couple of weeks of regular migraines and a few days of utter exhaustion. Thank goodness that didn't last any longer. The less-than-easy part has been mostly mental. I stress about work, and then I stress about how I'm ever going to handle the stress at work PLUS the stress of having a newborn. Then I stress that I'm stressing too much. It's sort of a cycle.
But then I have afternoons like today's. I had my 16-week doctor appointment. Paul didn't even come with me this time because he's already seen the ultrasound, and we both expected this appointment to be pretty routine. You know: step on the scale, take blood pressure, answer questions and that's that. And really, that was that. But I came home in a MUCH better mood than when I left. There's nothing like hearing that little heartbeat, even for just a moment, to remind me of the big picture. Plus, I love the doctor I saw today. I'm going to a clinic with five docs, and I'm trying to get to meet each of them before October, because unless I have a scheduled birth for some reason, I won't know which doc will deliver my baby. But now, after meeting Dr. Storey today, I'm crossing my fingers it'll be him. He smiled when he heard the heartbeat like it was the first time he'd heard a baby's heartbeat. It wasn't. I'm impressed. His smiles and attitude and general demeanor so impressed me, in fact, that I'm thinking of sending him a thank you note tomorrow. Seriously. Sending a doctor a thank you note for a 5-minute routine visit? There's a first for everything, I guess. Oh, and he guessed a girl. (Told ya, Paul!)
We also visited/toured the daycare center we intend to use and got some info on getting some state assistance in paying for it. Until Paul finishes school, $700 a month for daycare is, well, just a big "yeah right."
Well, for someone who didn't know where to start or what to say, I've sure said a lot. I'll stop now. Here's to less rambling, more interesting future posts.
B
Anyway, here's what the middle looks like: Working fewer hours than it seems on most weeks at a job that wouldn't be nearly as stressful if I didn't have a boss that is a bear to work for. But for now, stress is the name of the game. Married just over two years to someone I still look forward to coming home to each night. And we're expecting our first little rugrat in October, unless you count the 4-legged variety of rugrat. In that case, we're expecting our fourth in October.
That's right. No longer "newlyweds" (didn't that end at the first anniversary anyway?) and now new parents. Yikes. Being a newlywed was easy. New mommy, even just a soon-to-be new mommy? Not so much. Fun? Yes. Easy? No.
I don't mean to complain. In fact, I feel very very lucky that my pregnancy has been so easy. I'm 16 weeks along and the worst was a couple of weeks of regular migraines and a few days of utter exhaustion. Thank goodness that didn't last any longer. The less-than-easy part has been mostly mental. I stress about work, and then I stress about how I'm ever going to handle the stress at work PLUS the stress of having a newborn. Then I stress that I'm stressing too much. It's sort of a cycle.
But then I have afternoons like today's. I had my 16-week doctor appointment. Paul didn't even come with me this time because he's already seen the ultrasound, and we both expected this appointment to be pretty routine. You know: step on the scale, take blood pressure, answer questions and that's that. And really, that was that. But I came home in a MUCH better mood than when I left. There's nothing like hearing that little heartbeat, even for just a moment, to remind me of the big picture. Plus, I love the doctor I saw today. I'm going to a clinic with five docs, and I'm trying to get to meet each of them before October, because unless I have a scheduled birth for some reason, I won't know which doc will deliver my baby. But now, after meeting Dr. Storey today, I'm crossing my fingers it'll be him. He smiled when he heard the heartbeat like it was the first time he'd heard a baby's heartbeat. It wasn't. I'm impressed. His smiles and attitude and general demeanor so impressed me, in fact, that I'm thinking of sending him a thank you note tomorrow. Seriously. Sending a doctor a thank you note for a 5-minute routine visit? There's a first for everything, I guess. Oh, and he guessed a girl. (Told ya, Paul!)
We also visited/toured the daycare center we intend to use and got some info on getting some state assistance in paying for it. Until Paul finishes school, $700 a month for daycare is, well, just a big "yeah right."
Well, for someone who didn't know where to start or what to say, I've sure said a lot. I'll stop now. Here's to less rambling, more interesting future posts.
B
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