2 Months To Go...

I haven't written for a while.

It's not because I don't have anything to write. I usually fall asleep thinking of all the things I could write about. Maybe I just have too many things to write about, and I get overwhelmed thinking how to condense it all into a blog post. And why sit down to write for 45 minutes when I could zone out to an episode of "Buffy", or (better yet) take a nap??

But here I am, writing a long-overdue post.

Only 2 months to go in this pregnancy. It's like a freight train that is coming, non-stop, and I am so unprepared.

As I reminisce over my last pregnancy with Avonlea, I realize how similarly I went into motherhood as my journey into becoming a wife. It was all romance and rose-colored glasses. I knew parts of it would be "hard", but I had NO idea what that meant until I was deep into it. And yes, it WAS hard. In fact, "hard" isn't an adequate enough word. I felt overwhelmed and anxious and in-over-my-head, and seriously wanted to give up and drop the baby off at an orphanage and take back my precious "me time".

It all stemmed from being completely, wholly, over-the-top 1000% afraid. Not only did I feel like I had no idea what I was doing (and, let's be honest--I really didn't have any idea what I was doing), but because I felt like ANYONE would do better than I could possibly do at raising this tiny human.

As I am faced with this new baby, I realize I have more experience and am better equipped this time around. Practically, I am much more prepared. I know better how to feed and dress the baby. I have been through the drama and struggle of delivery. The drama and struggle of breastfeeding. The drama and struggle of a baby who wants to eat every hour. The drama and....well, you get the idea.

But I guess the problem is that there are so many MORE things to be scared about this time around. So I sit here, 2 months out, and I am just completely, wholly, over-the-top 1000% afraid...again.

So many unknowns. So many questions. So many worries. So many fears. And this time, I left the rose-colored glasses off. There's no more romanticism going into life with a newborn this time around. I'm prepared for the worst. The crying, the lack of sleep, the searing pain from being sliced open and taped back together. I'm prepared for that. What I am not prepared for is all of those things added to the fact that I have a TODDLER. A very needy toddler. A toddler that, I might add, HATES when I hold other babies (like, claws my pants legs and whines and cries and throws a fit hates).

I don't know how to do this. I don't do well in situations where I don't have even a slight grasp on how to handle it. I tend towards avoidance or complete shutdown. But this? I can't avoid. I can't shut down. I have to put on my big girl pants and take it head-on.

I hear from a lot of moms that have already done it. I know it can be done. It might not be pretty, or graceful, or worthy of my own parenting handbook, but it can be done. It has to be.

That said, in a couple of months, if you see me walking around with my yoga pants on and mismatched socks, hopefully you'll extend me some grace.

17 Month Letter to Avonlea

Dear Avonlea,

I haven't written a letter in a while, and I'm sorry. You're keeping me on my toes these days!!  It's pretty amazing how much you have changed since you turned a year old!  PawPaw Hume just visited (he hasn't seen you since your first birthday), and he couldn't believe how much you have changed. He commented that you aren't a baby anymore, and it's true. You really are a little toddler now. You've made huge strides in your physical development, your language expansion, and your personality changes.

You look so grown up now!

I look at these two pictures next to each other, and it's hard to believe there's only 5 months between them. Your face has gotten thinner, your neck has gotten longer, and you have no chunk left on your arms or legs (which is a little sad). Your hair is super-long--in fact, you've already had your first haircut! Everyone also comments on how blonde your hair is, which has only become more blonde the more time we have spent outside at the pool this summer!  Your feet grew 4 sizes since your first birthday--you now wear a size 6 shoe! You won't let me put headbands in your hair anymore (*sniff*), but you are really good about letting me put your hair in ponytails and pigtails with bows.

Being SO good at your first haircut:

Your mental development always catches me by surprise. You can just do so many things that surprise me! A few stories from recently:
- I've been giving you a bath at the same time as I take a shower--it's so much easier that way!  I stick your bathtub in the far end of the shower, then when I'm done I pick you up and soap you up and wash your hair. At the end of the bath, I dump out your tub, and turn your toys upside-down on the ledge for them to dry off. Last week, I didn't do that right away, and was doing something at the sink when I turned back to you and noticed that you were taking your toys and turning them over on the ledge!
- I sit you on the counter while I brush my teeth, and I give you a toothbrush to brush your teeth at the same time. Last week, I rinsed out my toothbrush and spit into the sink, and you leaned over and spit into the sink, too (or, at least, you tried to!). I giggled so much!
- You're an eating champ now. We eliminated breastfeeding a month ago, and you've been doing really well eating pretty much everything (except chickpeas). You especially love eating whatever Mommy and Daddy are eating. You'll walk up to one of us if we're eating something and say, "bite? bite? bite?" You also get really mad at Waldo (probably taking cues from Mommy) when he eats your food off your high chair tray or if you drop food and he eats it before you can pick it up. You get this really consternated look on your face and say, "No! No! No!"
- You love to identify sounds--a dog barks, and you say "raw raw raw", a truck drives by and you say "tuhk", a motorcycle goes by and you say "bike". You don't say anything, but you get a surprised look on your face whenever a siren drives by.
- You are already vying for my attention. When you want to tell me something, whether we're in the house, or the car, or out somewhere, you'll say, "Momma, Momma, Momma, Momma..." over and over until I say, "what?" Most of the time after that you'll say something that I can't comprehend, but you're definitely trying to get my attention to tell me! Often I just respond with an "oh, yeah?" and you're appeased until the next thing you want to tell me. Then it's "Momma, Momma, Momma" all over again.

Your vocabulary has just exploded over the last month. You said your first multi-syllable word "apple" (well, besides Mommy and Daddy), and have gone on to add many more to the list. I am trying to keep track of what you can say, but you've added them so fast I know I'm missing a few.  So far you can say:
Momma
Daddy
PawPaw
ball
dog
boat
goal!
bubbu (bubbles)
uh-oh!
ow!
Boo
WaWa (waldo)
ice
eyes
nose
No!
up
soo (shoes)
sahk (socks)
toes
hat
truck
ot! (hot)
fly
baby
Anna
Elmo
Abby
apple
book
eeez (keys)
Bambi
MoNee (Nemo)
foo (food pouch)
peeta (pizza)
MaMee (Mary Poppins)
down
Attey (Aunt Ashley)
Bubby (Uncle Brandon)
bug
cheese
teeth
mouth
panda
sit
seat
feet
bike
bite
wahwah (water)
bee
toes
egg
light
ehp (help)

You love to point to pictures and tell us who is in them--you also love to sit around the table at mealtime and point to each of us in turn and say our names. You also love to say animal sounds. You don't really say the names of the animals themselves (other than dog), but every time you see a picture of an animal whose sound you know, or you hear someone talk about a dog or a cat, you'll pipe up with that animal noise. So far, you know dog, monkey, elephant, lion, bird, bear, cow, chicken, sheep, cat, owl, goat, horse, and bee. You also recognize a lot more animals, just ones that have no identifiable sounds (like giraffe, rhinocerous, and fish).

You are officially a toddler. You love to walk, run, climb, and slide around on the furniture. I can tell we're going to have daily fights about not dancing on the coffee table (yep--you read that right). You are super independent--you no longer want me to hold on to your hand while you climb up or down steps, you want to put on your own shoes (and yell "No!" at me when I try to help--I'm repeating "No thank you" to try to influence your rudeness!), and you want to buckle your own car seat (thanks to Daddy for starting that one). You frequently take off without Mommy or Daddy--we're going to have to work on obedience in public. I thought I had lost you last week when we went to Kohl's. We're really working on staying right by the car while I get things out of the front seat. I want you to be good at this so that when your baby brother or sister comes along,  I don't have to worry about you running out into the street and getting hurt!  But you definitely don't want help and you want to do your own thing.  This includes at the park, where we have gone to the splash pad, and you will frequently just walk away from the splash pad and go to the swing area. I have had to sit you in "time out" a few times because you were not listening and going your own way, Fleetwood Mac.

You LOVE music. Whenever we take a shower, you point to the radio and say, "myoo? myoo?"  Your favorite Pandora station is one of Daddy's that plays rock music (like Blink 182) and one of Mommy's that plays dance music (like LMFAO).  When you get a song you like, you'll stomp and tap your feet, bop up and down, and turn in circles. It's pretty darn cute.

You don't like listening to the Disney Pandora station, mostly because you would much rather watch the actual videos. If you see a picture of Ariel or Rapunzel on TV and they're not moving, you get really cranky and stomp your feet. Every day for the last couple of months you have asked for "Fly?" multiple times a day, which is a Disney Sing-Along video of several Disney songs with the lyrics on the bottom of the screen. It was actually a VHS a long time ago that Ashley and I had, and Mommy found it on DVD--but now you're obsessed!  After watching "Fly" everyday for a month, Mommy ordered another one that has Mary Poppins, and so we alternate between the two.

"Fly" has been so influential that whenever you see Tinkerbell at a store, you'll just start yelling, "Fly! Fly! Fly!" You love it when I start to sing "You Can Fly" or "I've Got No Strings" (both songs from the video).

We've been going to a Mommy and Me class on Thursdays at the local Adult Center. You like having the time to dance and play instruments, spend time with other kids your age, play on the playground, and do art. You recently discovered painting, which is both exciting and brain-bending for you, and stressful for Mommy. We are also going to be going to a local MOPS group on Tuesdays. I don't see you at all for 2.5 hours on MOPS days, but I am confident you are going to have a good time because it seems like the teachers are really great and caring. It's good for you to spend time away from Mommy and Daddy, and with other adults. You've always been really good about going to the nursery at church, and you didn't have any trouble going to Moppets (the MOPS childcare). I'm so glad you don't have crazy separation problems!

You're getting better about having things on your hands--before, if you had any dirt or sand or something sticky on your hands, you would hold your hands out and make a whining noise until you could rub your hands together and get it off yourself, or have someone wipe them off for you. I was actually concerned about it a couple of weeks ago when we went to the beach for the day, since you have NEVER liked to play in dirt or sand. You were not excited about it at the start of the day, but after you fell in the water and decided you didn't like it, you got used to the sand and had fun digging in it.

It has been so nice recently to have you weaned off of breastfeeding. Thankfully, the transition was pretty smooth. I didn't have any engorging at all (thank God) and you didn't really cry too much about it. It shows that you were pretty much done by the time we ended up doing it. You now have a good solid bedtime routine, and you go down to bed really well. We change clothes, wash your face and hands, brush your teeth, read a story, say a prayer, and kiss goodnight. I love our little routine, and I also love that I can hand it off to Daddy or a babysitter, too! You're going to bed between 7 and 8pm every night, and sleeping right through until 7:30am! If you wake up at night, I know it's because you have a cold, or you're getting a tooth, because you are a good (if still a bit of a light) sleeper.

We have a lot of fun together. I love snuggling with you and reading stories together. I love going to explore new places ad try new things with you. I love to watch you learn about the world and about the people in it. I am so glad I get to share my days with you, and I am excited to see you change and grow as you become a big sister in the next few months.

I love you with all my heart,
Mommy

Unhinged by the UnGame

Nick and I recently returned from vacation. Actually, I should probably call it a "vacation", as it was a LOT of work, and not a lot of rest, or escape from my daily reality, as often a vacation purports to be.

But I can write about that (and about how Avonlea did with it) at another time.

In this post, I'm going to write about the sad realization I came to on vacation (and, in the days since our return, have continued to dwell upon).

In the car, whenever we have long drives, Nick and I play the "UnGame".

This isn't really a game (hence, the name UNgame). It's a box of two sets of cards. Each card has a question or a statement on it, and you take turns answering the questions or responding to the statements.  For example:

We got the game as a gift from my friend Jenn for our wedding, and it is one that we carry with us on all of our trips. It's good to pull out when someone is getting tired, or we have a long distance to travel.

Well, for the first time since we have had this game, a question really stumped me. It's a question that, prior to maybe 9 months ago, I would have had a ready answer for. Definitely one I could have answered 3 or 5 or 7 years ago.  That question was,

What are 3 things you would like to be doing in three years?

Now, perhaps I am being overly dramatic. Perhaps pregnancy hormones are getting the better of me, and making me all down and dreary. Perhaps I just had a brain fart.  But I could not, for the life of me, think of 3 things.

Even now, a few weeks later, I can't think of anything.  Why is that??

I've been dwelling on the "why" of this situation for weeks. Why am I having so much trouble thinking of what I would like to be doing? It's not like this is a life or death question. There isn't any money on the line. No one is going to be recording my answers--after all, how I would have answered this question 1 or 4 or 10 years ago is no longer relevant.

But the fact that I have trouble answering the question disturbs me.

I guess it is because every time I think of what I would LIKE to be doing in three years, a little voice (or block, or hiccup) in my brain says, "Yeah, but you're going to have a 5 year old and a 3 year old in 3 years--what are you REALLY going to be doing for yourself?"

I think over the 16 months I have spent as a mom, and consider how dramatically my life has changed--the infrequent nights away, the slow loss of personal time during the day (less time to do things for me--more time doing things to just get by), less and less ability to do hobbies that interest me. I have lost myself as I have become a mom, and I guess I don't see that changing at all now that we're having another one--in fact, I only see it becoming worse.

I guess I kept waiting for "the moment" when I would be able to become "me" again. Maybe it was when Avonlea would sleep through the night (still hasn't happened), or when she stopped breastfeeding (still hasn't happened)--I would be able to do some of the things that I loved before I had a baby. I would be able to devote more time to it, instead of squeezing it in during nap time or after she goes to bed, when I'm too tired to do what I love.  But, that "moment" hasn't arrived, and now that we're having another one, that moment seems to have moved so far down my life timeline I can't even see it anymore.

I guess I need to pause and clarify--I love my daughter. I love staying home with her. I love that I have been able to breastfeed her and take care of her daily. Please, in light of everything else I am writing, let that be very firmly said.

I just wish I didn't feel like I have lost myself along the journey. I look 3 years down the road, and I can see myself staying up until 11pm--but I am not watching a movie, or having date night, or having friends over to play games, or reading, or going for a run--all things that I used to love. Instead, I see an exhausted mom, cleaning the kitchen, scrubbing a high chair, scruffy hair and no shower, and wiping down the bathroom counters for the first time in weeks because this is the first chance I've gotten to do it. I see many years of jiggly belly and peeling nails and much-delayed haircuts and gray hairs, and it's discouraging.

I so much want to have an answer to the question--What would I LIKE to be doing in three years?--but right now, my life is getting in the way of being able to answer it.

13...er, 12 Week Update

We went to the doctor yesterday for a 13 week checkup, and we found out we were actually 12 weeks, like the Doctor previously thought.  Everything else is going swimmingly, including a cyst that showed up at the last appointment, that has now disappeared. Baby's heartbeat is strong and it is looking like an alien in the ultrasound, just like it's supposed to.

I'm feeling okay. I have days where I'm still nauseous, but they are fewer. We just recently got back from vacation and I was really feeling good the whole time. I've been sick since coming home, though.

I've popped out already--wearing full-on maternity gear already (the pants are more comfortable, anyway). My nails are doing awesomely--super long already.

Some things are definitely different, though: my skin is a mess, whereas last time it was perfect ad beautiful. My hair is slow to catch up with the awesomeness, too.

8 Week Update

(Originally written on June 27, 2014)

So, I have had a few weeks to process the news of our pregnancy. How do I feel about it now?

Well, still shocked, actually. I'm not sure if I'll ever "get over" the news. It really was so completely unexpected. It took us 3.5 years to get pregnant with Avonlea--I never imagined we wouldn't have trouble again.  I am a little happier now--still not completely so, but not angry anymore, at least.

We had our 8-week appointment and ultrasound on Monday--steady little 140 bpm. Because of this, and the measurement (around 7mm), the doctor thinks I might be a week off of my calculations--which, wouldn't be surprising, since I had NO idea when I ovulated/had my period last. But, because the kid is still SO small, they aren't entirely sure (it's really easy to be off a millimeter doing an ultrasound). We'll wait another month, do another ultrasound, and get a better measurement.

So far, I've started to have nausea again (oh, yay), which only seems to be cured by constant eating of Mexican food.  I've also had shortness of breath (which I forgot to ask the doctor about...oops).

As it is, here we are at our appointment with....our little Biscuit!

Right now, we're looking at a February 1st due date, but I'll update that if it changes at all.

Time to Wean

So, I am ready to wean Avonlea.

That was the beginning of a blog post I started a few weeks ago, but wasn't really sure how to continue.

All 4 of Avonlea's front top teeth came in during the month of June, and she was REALLY hurting me when she nursed. Combined with the fact that she was still getting up 2 or more times a night, I was done.

I just wasn't sure of the best way to do it.

I posted a question on a Facebook group about how to help with the teeth hurting problem, and got a few suggestions that I tried. But, none of them really helped longer than one feeding. I tried latching and re-latching, but that only seemed to frustrate Avonlea and make her cry.  But, her night feedings were only making ME cry...in pain!

About a week ago, she was down to 4 feedings: 2 during the day (one before her nap, and one before going to bed), and 2 overnight.  She didn't need to nurse to sleep--I had tested that theory out a few times by nursing her an hour or so before her nap, and she went down to sleep okay.  Nursing was still incredibly painful, so I started the blog post to try to ask advice. I just didn't really know where to start to get rid of the final nursing sessions we were doing.

So, I decided, at least for the overnight feedings, to try a technique I had read about: start with 60 seconds on each side, and every night, take 5 seconds away.  And wouldn't you know, she started weaning herself off of the night feedings pretty quickly.  (I think spending an entire day at Disney with only a 30-minute nap helped that, too.) The past few nights, she has only gotten up once at night. Last night, we were down to 20 seconds on each side, and she didn't really eat anything either time.

I ended up posting a quick question on Facebook two nights ago, asking what people did when they weaned their little ones.

Well, wouldn't you know, she started weaning herself right after I asked the question. In the last 2 days, she has only nursed twice. Last night, she refused to nurse before going to bed--a first in her lifetime.  Of course, she screamed and cried for a while, but she wouldn't take nursing for comfort, which was definitely something new.

I did try some whole milk yesterday, which was comedy gold. The face she made was outrageously funny. Needless to say, she wasn't a fan. I'll try it a couple more times, but honestly, if she doesn't take to cow milk, I will be fine with that. (It's one of the few health things that makes sense to me. After all, what is cow milk originally used for? Growing baby COWS. As in, humongous bovine creatures!! If she doesn't drink it, that is fine by me.)

All of the nursing things would not be possible if she hadn't FINALLY learned how to eat food. I didn't feel comfortable trying to wean her before, because she couldn't seem to figure out how to eat any solids. She was so distrusting of me, and wouldn't put anything in her mouth that I was offering, and eating from a spoon was truly hit-and-miss. It ended up being that I had to paint her lips with whatever I was offering so that she would even try to taste it--and if she liked it after that taste, she would eat a TINY bit.  But, about a month ago, right around the time all her top teeth broke through the surface, she finally seemed to "get it".  It started with thin slices of deli turkey and mashed avocado, continued with nearly an entire bowl of pasta and tomato sauce, and hasn't stopped since. She will now at least try everything I offer her, and will eat nearly everything. This has made my confidence in weaning her that much stronger, because I know she can at least get enough calories to support herself without my breastmilk.

What I think is a little funny is that I'm not really emotional about not breastfeeding Avonlea anymore. It has been such a DRAMATIC UNDERTAKING for the two of us, I'm mostly just glad it is almost over. And the fact that she's weaning herself means that I don't need to feel guilty that I'm withholding the important life juice from her (thanks, kellymom, for that one). She's ready to move on, and God knows I have been ready for her to move on for months now.

I'm worried that I'm speaking a little too soon, but I'm just going to continue to not offer breastmilk, and hopefully it will continue to go well at night.

Pregnancy Dreams

(First written on July 1, 2014)

The weird dreams have started.

Last night, I was slated as Kristen Bell's understudy in a new musical about Julie Andrews' life. However, there was some controversy, because at one point in Julie's life, she was a Nazi officer who becomes Peter Pan. There were thoughts among the showrunners that the musical would offend people, and thus not become a hit, so it was decided to only have one performance. I showed up for that performance, and they decided they wanted me to perform instead of Kristen, even though I had never done any stage rehearsals, and I didn't really know the lines or songs at all (weird understudy).  Julie was in the audience, giving her critiques, as well as Barbra Streisand. She was unhappy to see me in the starring role, but decided to give me a chance. If, at any point, I was not good, she would send security out to arrest me.

The whole performance, I basically did by shadowing Kristen on stage. No one seemed to see her performance, though, they only saw mine. I was also performing opposite the other male lead, Michael Fassbender. He was displeased with me taking over Kristen's role at the beginning, but he slowly warmed up to me.

By the end of the musical, Michael and I had fallen in love, and my performance in the musical was overtaking Kristen's direction for me. This was highlighted when, without any wires, I was able to do the flying Peter Pan sequences with Michael by holding on to the curtains and flying through the air (this was the coolest part of my dream).  Barbra also presented me an award in the middle of the show.

We were about to perform the big climactic musical number (the one involving Julie discovering she was a Nazi, and shedding her uniform in a blaze of song glory), and Kristen had somehow convinced Julie that I was unfit for the role (when, in fact, she was jealous that I was getting Michael's approval and doing a good job), and she had lowered the hammer on me. Security was closing in while the musical was still going on, and Michael and I were running around, trying to avoid security, while also getting on stage to do the final number. I was looking for a pair of shoes to go out on stage, when I was confronted backstage by Kristen. She was wearing the costume I was looking for, looking smug, with security around her. I dashed around her to get to the stage...

...and I woke up.

What You Need to Know About C-Sections

I've been wanting to write this post for a long time, but it wasn't until a discussion came up in a mom group on Facebook that I was reminded about it. This is not an exhaustive list, it is just what I learned and what I usually tell moms who are looking at needing a C-section.

Note: I am NOT a doctor. Don't go against any doctor's advice to do the things I am suggesting (though, i don't think anything is too outrageous!). Just a disclaimer. I don't want to get sued later or anything. :)

Before the C-Section:

• It really can't be said enough: you need to prepare yourself for the fact that your birth plan WILL NOT go according to plan. I don't think many people expect to have C-sections their first time around. Most people intend to have a vaginal birth, whether using drugs or not. I don't think a lot of people would choose to have a major abdominal surgery (I know that some do--elective C-sections are on the rise--but I still think they're a minority.). Because you probably haven't planned on a C-section, its sudden arrival will cause some emotional trauma, whether immediately felt or not. In my case, the possibility of a C-section was lurking around starting around my 18th hour of labor--but for some, it is literally a last-minute decision that is made for them. The more you prepare yourself for sudden changes before your labor begins, the less the whole C-section situation will emotionally challenge you. To my (later) dismay, I really dismissed the idea of having a C-section; I didn't even let the possibility enter my mind, and so I didn't prepare myself adequately. Don't get me wrong: you will still have emotional issues over an unplanned C-section, but you'll handle it better if you allow yourself the possibility it might happen (like I didn't).
• I'm not sure what you wear after a vaginal birth, but I only recommend packing wide-band yoga/exercise pants for post-C-section wear. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT BRING JEANS to wear home, even maternity jeans!! The area around your new scar is ridiculously sensitive, and though it seems weird, I found it much more comfortable to have something supporting the whole area than to have something flowy that could brush against it, or maternity jeans that dig into that area. No drawstrings, either!  (I recommend something like these.)
• You'll probably have packed underwear if you're not planning on a C-section, but if you end up having one, you won't want to wear your own underwear for a while.
• If you know you're going to have a C-section, go out early to the drug store and buy the biggest pads you can find. I liked the Always Maxi Overnight Heavy Flow with Wings.  Buy two packs. While you'll love the mesh undies the hospital gives you, you won't love the cheap pads that the hospital provides for you. Seriously--they end up stacking them on top of each other, which is 1000% uncomfortable.
• Ask your doctor what he/she will do to stitch you up. Will you have stitches? Glue? Tape? I highly recommend being taped up, if that is an option. You won't have to go get anything removed later, and you can keep the tape on as long as you need to. I left my tape on for much longer than I probably needed to, but I found that my scar healed incredibly well where the tape was. A friend of mine had glue, and she had a lot more problems with her recovery (and her clothes) than I did.
• You will get a dry shave from a nurse, unless you arrive having already shaved yourself. Your husband might like to help with this area!

During the C-Section:

• TRY to relax. The whole C-section process is ridiculously fast. I had 10 minutes of prep in the OR before my husband and surgeon arrived, and 2 minutes later, baby was born. 30 minutes after that, I was in recovery. Considering what is happening, that is FAST. If your C-section is an unplanned decision, the whole situation can seem like a whirlwind. Say a prayer, meditate, take deep breaths--whatever you need to do to calm yourself for the storm!
• You're going to experience one of the strangest out-of-body sensations ever. Whole-body numbness is something few can claim to understand--you will soon be one of them.
• Something I didn't do that I will ask for the next time around is for the doctor or the nurses to keep telling me what is happening. That might set your mind at ease a bit (unless you wish to remain blissfully ignorant).

After the C-Section:

• I itched like crazy coming out of the epidural. Not everyone has this reaction, but you might. I was also shaking uncontrollably. Again, not everyone has this reaction, but I certainly wasn't expecting it.
• You will be numb in your incision area for a long time. Weeks. Months. I'm a year out, and it still feels differently in that spot. I wore yoga pants for about two weeks after for comfort's sake (but I'm definitely opposed to yoga pants as everyday wear).
• Expect your scar area to look incredibly gnarly for a while. I took a scar selfie the day after my surgery, and the results were disturbing. I felt like Jack Skellington down there. But, if you take good care to wash and dry your incision area (use a hair dryer instead of rubbing with a towel), you'll end up with a beautiful battle wound you can wear with pride. Incidentally, mine is about 6 inches wide, about a hands-width down from my belly button.
• Embrace the mesh underwear. No matter what cut of undies you brought with you, they will inevitably sit right on top of your brand-new scar. Those see-through, tear-away granny panties they give you will become your new best friend. Ask for a couple of extra pairs to wear the first few days you are home. You'll be sad when they run out.
• TAKE THE POST-OP DRUGS. Don't try to be a hero. That being said, after a week or so, start to wean yourself off of them--they will make you constipated.
• Rest, as much as you can. You have a new baby, but you also had a major surgery. If you don't rest, recovery will be even harder.
• On the flip side of that, GET OUT OF BED. The more you are able to get up (do it as slowly as you need to) and walk around (do it as gingerly as you need to), the better your recovery will be. I attribute my relatively easy recovery on the fact that I was up and out of my room 3-4 times a day to go down to the NICU to see my baby. That really helped my mobility in a big way. Get a ring sling, or another wrap to wear your baby and do laps around the hallways, if that helps you.
• Laughing will hurt. A lot. Use an extra pillow to hold against your incision area if you have hilarious visitors (like I did).
• Just like in a vaginal birth, they will make you poop before you leave the hospital. While I imagine this is incredibly painful having a vaginal delivery, the thought of pushing out poop is one of the scariest things imaginable after having a C-section. Take the stool softeners they give you, but also make sure you are drinking plenty of water. I always had my nurses bring me a pitcher of water and a pitcher of ice with every meal, and I kept it refilled often.
• Make plans for someone to stay with you the first night after your baby is born. A lot of husbands go home to get some sleep--but you will definitely need help that first night. Enlist a good friend to stay if your husband can't. You will need someone to help you get out of bed, help you get the baby changed, etc. That first night after surgery is the hardest to accomplish anything on your own. (I did not have anyone stay, and it was a really hard night--I called the nurses every hour for something or another--and I was really trying not to be needy!)
• Finally, though you might be anxious to get home to your own bed, I highly recommend taking all the time they will let you have to stay in the hospital. You have people who bring you food, you have nurses on call for anything you need, you don't have to worry about piles of laundry or dishes, and you have a bed that moves up and down with the press of a button! The pull for home might be strong, but I don't regret staying that extra night in the least.

There's a book called The Essential C-Section Guide that I'll be picking up from the library or Amazon the next time I need it. I've heard great things about it.

How about you other C-section mamas?  What have you learned from experience that you pass on to other C-section mamas?

Pee Stick and Telling Nick

(Written on June 11, 2014)

So, I've had a few days to process.

I am pregnant.

I am going to have another baby.

I am going to have another baby.

I am going to have another baby.

I am going to have another baby!

(Say those sentences in a progressively louder and more hyper-sounding voice, and you'll have my inflection down perfectly.)

To say I was surprised would be an understatement.

I'm not sure why. I mean, we were having unprotected sex. Hello, that's how babies are made! I'm not sure what we were thinking on that one, other than figuring it took us so long last time that it probably wouldn't happen so easily.  Honestly, with Nick and I, we tend to just not think about it.

Wanna know a secret? We have never used a condom. Seriously. Almost 9 years of marriage, not once. No sex before marriage, so no possibility there. First 5 years of our marriage I was on birth control, and the next 3 years we were trying to have a baby. I've never opened one of those foil packets. We've never even bought any. I wouldn't have any idea where to start. I probably could've sent Nick to go get some (he would have a better idea than me, I'm guessing), but honestly, I didn't even think to ask him to. So, over the last 14 months since Avonlea has been born, we've just been....well, au naturel, as they say.

That's probably irresponsible, especially since I was so freaked out to have a baby.  But I genuinely, honestly, had NO IDEA we would have any success again. It's like the little part of my brain that remembers how babies are made just inconveniently forgot about it. And it's not like I frequent the condom aisle at the drug store, either, so as to be subtly reminded.

Over the last few weeks, I have had weird moments of thinking, "I'm pregnant." I took the pregnancy test after a couple of days of thinking, "I think I'm late." When I clipped coupons this month, I clipped some pregnancy test coupons. I was having nightmares about being pregnant. I was daydreaming about if people would think I was crazy if I called adoption agencies to give up the baby I was dreaming I had. I was relieved when feeling what I thought was my pre-period cramping, and wore a pad one night, just in case (that was a waste). When I took the test, a little voice in the back of my head said, "It's going to be positive."

I took the test while Nick was out re-enrolling in AAA for the year, and left it in the bathroom for a while, forgotten, while I looked after Avonlea. I only remembered to go in and look at it because Nick arrived home, and I didn't want to freak him out with a used pregnancy test in the bathroom.

Last time, immediately after finding that little blue line, I was a smidge disappointed (which I detailed in this post).

This time, I was downright freaked. out. Full on, horror movie levels of scared. Approximately one million and one thoughts screamed through my head at the same time: "I can't do this. I still have a baby--how can I possibly be prepared to take on another one! I've seen my friends who have a toddler and a newborn--they look like they want to go into fetal position at any moment. I can't handle that! I'm not back to my pre-baby weight! I'm going to get so incredibly fat! I can't do this. I can't DO this!"

After the fear, came the shock (and irritation): "Seriously? Again? STUPID Allison. WHY didn't you go and buy some freaking condoms?!?"

To top it off, Nick and I weren't really talking to each other very much. We were in a "fight", though we don't really have knock-down, drag-out fights. We just kind of do the silent treatment. (Nick will probably read this later and say, "We were in a fight?" That's how well we fight.)

When he got home, and I checked the test, I thought for a split second about waiting to tell him the news. Last time, I had such a cute way of telling him. But now, I was just so upset that we were in a fight that I wanted to resolve it as soon as possible.

Nick started to tell me something about the AAA thing, and all I could do was start to cry. Nick, of course, wondered what was wrong, and I apologized for my part of the fight. And then I said, "I think we have a huge problem."

I got up off the couch to go get the pregnancy test, and Nick followed me. I brought it back out to him in the hallway, and he got a huge smile on his face, and said, "Uh-oh! What does that mean?" (in a sly, I-already-know-what-it-means kind of way). I'm really glad he was smiling and happy, because I was bawling by this point.

I probably should've waited to tell him in a more fun way, but I just couldn't think of how I would get excited about it enough to be creative and happy when I told him, so I blurted it out to him over a laundry basket of dirty socks.

That sounds terrible to say. I really hope that Biscuit doesn't hate me later in life for knowing that I wasn't initially excited about his/her presence in my womb.

But above all the emotions; the fear, the worry, the shock--I never once thought that we should get rid of it. I never thought we should abort, or put it up for adoption. This is OUR BABY. And whether or not we were ready for its creation is a moot point (or, a moo point). And deep down, I was happy. Definitely not outrageously happy, but I was at least minutely pleased. In the midst of my tears on Nick's shirt, I was able to smile about the new life we had created.

Now that a few days have passed, it still hits me like a ton of bricks when I remember, again, that I am pregnant. But I also realize a little bit more each day that it really is going to be okay. God would not have given us this life if it was not meant for us. If we would not be able to handle it. It might take me a while to be 100% gung-ho about it, but that's okay.

We're going to have another baby.

And it's going to be great.

Avonlea's First Blog Post

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A Second Kid? Are you CRAZY??

(this post was written June 7, 2014)

I heard that after you have your first kid, people started asking you when you were going to have another one. I experienced this a little bit, but really only from people I didn't know (or my mother-in-law). See, I think it was that the people close to me knew what a traumatic experience Avonlea's babyhood was, and so they knew better than to ask me.

As time went on, among other people and among other mommies, the baby question would come up, and people would be surprised at my emphatic "NO!" when asked if we were going to have another kid.

I don't think it is a permanent "no". I just say that I need more time to recover from the trauma of the last kid. It's not the birth that traumatized me. It's the having a BABY thing that traumatized me. I love looking at babies. I love it when friends have babies. I really liked being pregnant and growing a baby. I learned that I do NOT like babies.

I also can't imagine having another kid right now, with Avonlea still so young. I imagine a 3-4 year spread between my kids. I like the 3 or 4 year spread, because they'll have one or two years together in middle and high school, but not too close together. They also won't be too far apart and grow up hating each other, like Ashley and I did with our 6.5 year spread.

I am also seeing what it is like to have a toddler and a baby first-hand. Several of my mom friends are on baby #2 with their first being around 16-20 months old. And while it's exciting in theory, I see what a toll it takes. The energy you needed for one baby is now multiplied, but the energy you're given isn't. My friends are doing an amazing job--but I spent one afternoon with one of them, and I came home saying, "We canNOT have another baby anytime soon." Just watching what it was like terrified me.

I don't do well in situations where I am overwhelmed. I tend to lose my balance mentally, and I constantly feel like I am underwater. I just don't do well. I mean, one of my extended family members told me she was going to fly to California to help me after I had Avonlea because I sounded like I was doing so badly. Did I also mention I'm not good at concealing how I really feel?

I guess you have some things figured out with your second kid that make some aspects of it a little easier. You're not dealing with the first-time Mom thing, which is huge. But on the flip-side, you're dealing with the new thing of raising another kid AND a baby.

And to be honest, I'm kind of content with our little 3-person family. I really would be completely happy if we never had another kid of our own. I did the pregnant thing. I did the baby thing. I'm happy to move on with my life. I would love to consider adoption, but that's not something Nick is interested in right now. Maybe I can work on him in that regard, but it's not something we would pursue even in the next 5 years.

All that being said, I took these pictures today:

Oh, shit.

Contentment? As a Mom?

Do you ever feel like you were meant for something...else?

90 percent of the time, I love my life. I live in a great city, with tons of opportunities. I have an amazing husband, who works hard to provide for our family. I have a beautiful daughter, who fills my days with joy. I have a nice home and a place to exercise and health and a great church community. I am able to sing and run and read and exercise my creativity in different ways.

But.

I still struggle with contentment. That 10 percent just eats away at me. I wish things for my life that aren't possible right now, and I find myself frustrated that I'm not able to do those things. I wonder where this stems from. Is it some weird effect of the feminist movement, to make me feel like my being a stay-at-home mom is unfulfilling in some way? If I had stayed in my career, would I feel better about things? Would I be more content? It's almost like I see the grass as greener on the other side of the fence.

But see, here's the rub: I don't think I would like it any more if I were on the other side of the fence. Because I was there. I have experienced the other side of so many things. I was single until I was 26, and didn't date a lot, and I just wanted to be married. I had a marriage with no kids for 8 years, and I just wanted to add kids to the mix. I had a job as a teacher, and I never felt completely comfortable in it enough to enjoy it all the time. Same with being a photographer--I always felt like I knew just enough to get by, but not enough to really excel. And now, as a mom, I feel similarly--I'm doing an okay job, but I'm not doing an exceptional job.

Is it a lack of confidence that causes this discontent? I have noticed a pattern in my life--I get involved with something, and then after a while I get bored, or I realize I am inadequate in some way, and I move on. I was 100% into sports growing up. Then I did some theater in college, but not enough to really consider that a career (even though I majored in it). Then I was a teacher for 8 years, but never felt comfortable in it, and then I did photography for 3 years, and now I'm a mom. I've dabbled in sewing and scrapbooking and baking and aerobics and acting and blogging and gardening and so many other things, but have never stayed with anything for too long. And is it because of this dabbling, this bouncing back-and-forth between interests and passions--that has caused me to develop this weird discontentment? That I essentially have "life passion ADD"?

Or am I just setting myself up with expectations that are too high? Can anyone really feel 100% like they're doing their life's work? They choose a career when they're 19 or 20 and stick with that education and training and then every day they do that chosen career they feel like they're exactly where they belong? Because to me, that seems completely foreign.  People have asked me, "What do you want to do?" and I have never felt comfortable giving a solid answer. Because the true, honest answer is, "I don't know." I feel like so many of the choices that I have made in my life have been by default.

I chose a communications major because there were classes I could actually pass.
I went to China because my friend convinced me.
I started teaching because I couldn't find a theater job anywhere, and it was something I could do in the meantime.
I'm staying at home with Avonlea because teaching here isn't really an option (and I probably couldn't find a job anyway).

I kind of wonder, when Avonlea gets to the age where she starts deciding what she wants to do, what will she learn from me? I don't ever want Avonlea to think that choosing to stay at home with her was a "default" choice--but how do I tell her that I never expected to stay home? I grew up in the household of an amazing career woman, and always expected to follow in those footsteps, and now I'm going back on everything I ever said I wanted. I want to give Avonlea a strong sense of self to stand on, but my track record for advising her isn't so great, since my "sense of self foundation" is wobbly at best. And what about after that? When she does decide what she wants and moves out of the house--what will be left for me? I'll be one of those weird women who takes up underwater basket weaving because she has nothing to do with her time after her kids moved out of the house.

I guess, in the end, it's about transition. I had a really hard time after Nick and I got married. About a year into the marriage, I realized how much had changed for me. I had to "report to someone" (for lack of a better word) about how I spent my time, how I spent my money, where I went on vacation, what I wanted the house to look like, etc. I didn't even get to keep my own name! I felt like my identity had shifted so dramatically, and it took me a while to get used to "the new me". To get a feeling of how a marriage worked, and how to be a partner in life to someone else. I wasn't just me anymore. I was now "wife".

And now, I'm at another transition. Now I'm a "mom". I'm a year into it, and I'm realizing how hard it is for me to come to grips with it. That this, this mom thing that I'm in right now is what I am doing, and that maybe it isn't what I thought it would be. When I became a "mom", did I leave everything else behind? All my goals? All my wishes? I didn't think about the sacrifices I would have to make, or the changes I would have to make to my expectations. I didn't realize what I would lose.

But I also didn't realize what I would gain.

I'm still trying to figure it out.

"What a Big Brain You Have!"

It really feels like one day I had a baby, who only observed and sat by as things happened around her or to her, and then the next day I had a little girl who interacts and develops more every day.

I keep meaning to write, but life just gets in the way. I need to stop apologizing for it, after all, I'm not making money on this blog--it's just for me. I keep documenting our lives in photos, so that's an important thing.

Avonlea just gets more and more interesting. It always surprises me whenever she exhibits some new skill, or shows me new things that she has learned.

I mean, she is pointing at things when we read!  I know it's something little, but it's just seeing those brain connections that didn't exist prior, and are now getting stronger and stronger.  I read a lot of books with her. She used to have no attention span whatsoever, and now she goes to the book box and picks a book out and brings it back to me to read. She'll sit on my lap, turn all the pages, and point to pictures as I ask her questions. She can identify "ball", "balloons", "zebra", "fish", "eyes", "mouth", "elephant", "Elmo", "Cookie", and "monkey". I love asking her, "Where is the monkey?" and waiting while she scans the page and then makes a quick point at the monkey on the page. Today, she gave me an additional highlight: when I asked her where the monkey was, before pointing to it, she said, "ooh ooh ooh!"

The other day, Nick was blowing bubbles inside, and just for fun I said, "Bubbles, bubbles, everywhere!" a line from one of Avonlea's favorite stories. She toddled away from the bubbles, over to the book box, and grabbed the bubble book and brought it back to me to read.

She's not saying too many identifiable phrases, but she talks all the time and uses lots of inflection when she speaks. You can tell she is asking for certain things. She loves to drink out of my water bottle, and loves to munch on whatever I am eating--she'll point at my bottle or my plate and say, "oissssh?" She's also good at saying goodbye when people are leaving. It's really funny to look up in the window and see the top of her little head and her eyes peeking over the ledge, with her little arm pumping up and down in a wave. :) She also loves to wave at Waldo in the window.

As she gets more independent, we're also dealing with more temperament and strong-willed issues. Tonight we had a particularly cranky fight about leaving her bib on while she eats. She's been trying to pull them off each meal (velcro--urgh), and I haven't been letting her. Well, tonight that really made her mad. She threw a fit, and kept fighting me on it, but I tried to be calm and collected but continue to stand my ground.  Nick observed and said I did a good job riding the storm, which was nice of him to notice.

Avonlea also loves to go places and do things by herself. She doesn't like to hold my hand--she likes to walk around by herself and explore things on her own. Today that meant finding her several steps into the kitchen in the Asian restaurant we were in. Thankfully the staff thought it was funny instead of annoying, but I have to keep a closer eye on her now.

She also likes to eat by herself. If I put any food in her mouth, even if it's something she likes, she will spit it into her hand and then put it into her mouth herself. She also takes spoons away from me to put things into her mouth herself. Basically I have to make sure that whatever is in the spoon won't fall out--I really only do avocado--otherwise I spear things with forks for her or mash them into a pouch or let her pick them up with her hands.

She's becoming crazy-obsessed with her stuffed Boo. She already loved Boo--but now, she wants to carry Boo wherever we go, and she is always asking for him. I think I'm going to have to put the kabosh on that--Boo is already a little worse for wear, and he hasn't left her bedroom (except when we traveled to Ohio).

She's also better at playing with her friends. I noticed her sharing with her friend Ava today, and while I know that won't always be the case, it was nice to see her interacting with kids around her own age, since she's been mostly ignoring them up until now.

She is starting to recognize humor. She laughs at videos of herself doing funny things, and at puppets doing silly dances. She also does things to make us laugh. She blows these amazing raspberries that always make us giggle.

I also love watching her figure things out. We have a shape sorter, and she'll try the shapes out in the different openings, trying to see which one it will go in. She'll manipulate the piece in multiple angles now, instead of just trying to force it in a certain hole without moving it around.

Easter was a great example of her burgeoning cognitive abilities. She totally "got" the Easter egg hunt idea!

I love watching her grow. It's to the point now where pictures don't do her justice. My memory card on my phone is filling up much quicker now, because I'm taking videos all the time!

One Year Letter

Dear Avonlea,

I have lots of other things to work on right now, but I realize that I never wrote you a one year letter--in fact, I think I am really behind on a lot of your letters. If there is blame to be placed, it should probably be placed on you--you have stopped taking more than one nap a day, so my blog time is limited to the evenings, when I am often doing laundry, or cleaning up the house, or working on other things that get pushed back.

But don't worry--I'm not blaming you. I am so pleased I get to spend more of my day with your sweet face. I remember a time, not too long ago, when I would think to myself during the day, "I don't get to spend any time with my baby--she sleeps more than she is awake!" Well, that has certainly changed. You usually take one nap, but sometimes, if we are out-and-about, you won't take any! If that happens, you end up like your Mommy when she hasn't slept--cranky!  A couple of times I have actually just driven around so you'll sleep in the car!

Speaking of sleep, you still aren't sleeping through the night. You get up a lot to eat. I get a lot of grief from people about it (including the pediatrician, who tells me I have to stop it), but the bottom line is that it doesn't bother me that much. You go to bed at 6:30 or 7pm, and always get up sometime between 10:30 and 11pm, when I'm going to bed. You then get up once at 2:30 or 3am, and then get up for the day at 7:30am. Sometimes, you'll get up at 6am, I'll feed you, and you'll go back to sleep until 8:30. Those are great days. :)  This won't last forever, and until it really starts to bother me, I'll keep doing it.

One reason I am not stopping your night feedings is because you aren't eating during the day. You'll eat (swallow) purees, but anything solid you will play around with in your mouth, and then spit out. I think you're swallowing a little tiny bit, but for the most part, you just play the "taste and spit" game. I'm starting to wonder if we need to do some kind of therapy with you, since it hasn't seemed to get much better over the last 6 months. Eating this way, you won't be getting enough calories to begin to wean. You also want to do it all by yourself--you don't like to be fed, you want to do it yourself.

Other than the eating and sleeping thing, you are so much fun. You're very inquisitive. Anything new I bring into the house, you want to investigate. You love opening drawers and bags, pulling out all the contents, and then putting them back. You understand the phrase, "put it away!" which has become very helpful.

You absolutely love dogs. You squeal with delight, and start to say, "doh, doh, doh" whenever we see a dog out-and-about. You love cats, too, but we don't seem to have friends who have any cats. You love to stand at the screen door and talk to the dogs while they're outside.

You love to read. You'll go over to your basket of books, pull them out one at a time, and flip through them, making lots of talking sounds while you're doing it. You love to help me turn the pages, and you've started to point to things while I read. You can identify Mickey and Minnie mouse, and you love reading books with dogs and babies in them. We have a book that has a mirror on the last page, which is your favorite. You turn to that page, lean forward, and "kiss" the baby that you see.

You still love playing hide-and-seek. You're so funny--you've started playing it yourself. You hold yourself up on the coffee table, and squat down behind it and pop back up with a big grin. You always want me to say, "Where's Avonlea?? Boo!!"

Being outside is one of your favorite things. You're very aware of things in the sky--airplanes, helicopters, birds, and trees blowing in the wind. You always point to them and say, "aah!"  If you hear an airplane or helicopter, your finger will go right up in the air, and you'll search for the plane with your eyes--you can spot them from very far away!  You also are obsessed with balloons. When we go to Wal-Mart and Ralph's, you're always pointing to them, and spotting them even from across the store.  We recently bought a small inflatable baby pool, which you really enjoyed, and we'll use a lot this summer. You love to go on walks in the stroller, too. You're content to sit in your stroller for a long time, as long as we're moving somewhere!

You just started taking your first few steps a couple of weeks ago--it's amazing to see how you have already progressed and started getting better and better with your balance. You aren't really taking steps independently--you'll walk from the couch to me, but only if it's 5 steps or less. Today you took your first step towards a non-human--you were trying to walk after Gus! You are getting more confident day-by-day. You most like to walk having both of your hands held--in fact, if we let go of one of your hands, you would stop dead in your tracks!  The last few days, though, you are starting to walk by only holding one hand...you just tend to go in circles when that happens. :) When you do walk a few steps independently, you get very giggly...almost hyperventilating!

You are very tough and brave. You fall down and get bumps and scrapes a lot as you're learning how to move--but you very rarely cry. Sometimes, if you hit your head or fall down or smoosh your fingers, you'll look at me right away, and I'll say, "You're okay!"  If you start to cry before you look at me, I know you're really hurt--but that isn't very often. You can go down the slide with a little help getting started, and you always smile when you get to the bottom. You love to be thrown high up in the air--you will almost stop breathing when you get to the apex of the throw, and then giggle on the way back down. You love the swings, and love to be pushed high. You love the wind in your face, and you love to be spun around in circles, holding on as tight as you can to my shirt so you won't fall backwards. You love to be hung upside-down, and you love to be tickled. I adore hearing your little giggle when I hit the exact right tickle spot.

You're funny about dirt--you don't like having stuff on your hands, and you'll often go to a small piece of paper or fuzz on the floor to pick it up. You are definitely not a fan of sand, which is sad, because the local playground we used to go to all the time has been covered in sand by local kids. You don't like to crawl around it anymore. This also means you're not really a fan of stickers. I'll put one on the back of your hand, and you'll get fussy with me if you can't get it off your fingers.

You've started making a really cheesy grin, which always makes me laugh. In fact, you often make me laugh. Our days are filled with laughing and playing and joy. You start every morning by waking up and talking/singing in your bed until we come and get you.

You have very good fine motor skills. You often play with small things, pressing and manipulating them to figure out how they work. Recently you discovered the music box in your room, and the button under the lid that makes the music turn on and off. You also like taking the caps off of bottles. Grammy Gaydene remarks about it whenever she sees it. "That little finger!" she says, "Always moving!"  You're also getting good at throwing a ball back and forth with a partner. Your accuracy is pretty good! You mostly throw right-handed.

You don't like to have your hands held, and you are not a snuggler. Kind of makes Mommy sad, but that's just how you are. It makes the little snuggles you do give extra-special. You also don't like to sleep while being held.

You've started exhibiting some negative behaviors, like when you don't get your way about something. You'll start to throw a little bit of a fit--some fake tears or some whining. Thankfully, you're really good at cutting it out when I tell you that isn't appropriate. You also have started to do some willful things, like doing something even after I have told you no. We're going to be working on that for a while, I think!

You like looking at pictures. I made a large number 1 for your birthday, and covered it with photos. I haven't taken it off the wall, because every day you go up to it and point to the pictures and talk to them. You've started to be able to point to different people that I name--today you identified PawPaw, Gus, Daddy, and Aunt Ashley.

You get lots of compliments wherever we go. The nursery workers at church often make wonderful comments about you, and claim that you are one of their favorites (last week, they said that everyone else was crying, and you were just happy and content to hang out with everyone). The ladies that work at Ralph's love you, and lots of people comment on how beautiful you are. I agree with them, of course! I can't wait for you to show them how bright and smart and strong you are, too.

Baby girl, I love you with all of my heart. I love watching you grow, explore, and change. I love seeing your heart for your friends, and your love for your family.  My prayers are always with you.

Love,
Mommy

Memories....of Birth

In thinking back on Avonlea's birth, I find it amazing the things I remember strongly, and the things I seem to have forgotten.  I went back and read my birth story, and I found myself thinking, "Wow! I don't remember that at all!"

Some things about Avonlea's birth that have stuck with me through the year (warning: some of these are maybe a little gross for those of you unfamiliar with the birth and after-birth processes):

1. I remember very specifically when I was coming out of my epidural meds, and how I was so shaky I thought I was going to drop Avonlea. I made Nick take her, even though I was supposed to be doing skin-to-skin time (something I, of course, felt guilty for later).

2. Speaking of guilt, it took all of 5 minutes for the mom guilt to set in. I felt guilty for everything! I didn't do enough skin-to-skin in the first 2 hours of her life (even though for the first hour I couldn't because I was coming out of major surgery), she cried the whole way from recovery to our new room so I must be a bad mom because what mom can't get her own baby to stop crying?, I couldn't change her diapers without getting someone to help me lift her out of her bed (again, major surgery), I was so exhausted I didn't want to hold her and risk dropping her (again, major surgery), and the big one: I didn't go to the hospital when my water broke, which then pushed everything back, ultimately causing her to be born almost 36 hours afterwards, and thus probably causing her to get the infection that made her have to go to the NICU. That's the one that still haunts me.

3. I HATED those leg compression socks that they put on you after surgery!  Ugh. The Worst.

4. I was super itchy after the epidural wore off.

5. I cried through the whole surgery. It was just the most overwhelmed I have ever been in my whole life. The combination of my dad and my sister missing the birth, plus the ALL DAY drama that was my non-labor and non-contractions and stretching my cervix manually and the doctor basically wearing horse gyno gloves to work on me, plus the constant "birth plan" concessions--all of it just made me a blubbering mess.  When they finally turned the epidural up and laid me on my back and wheeled me out of the room, I had this overwhelming feeling of mom floating angel-like above my bed the whole way into the delivery, and I just lost it. Nick asked me if I was okay at one point, probably because I was crying so much. When they brought Avonlea over to me, I couldn't see her very well through the tears.

6. I got chastised by the overnight nurse my second night after surgery, for using the wheelchair to get down to the NICU to see Avonlea. She told me I should not need it anymore.  Umm...excuse me? 36 hours ago, I had my stomach sliced open, and a nearly-9-pound baby wrangled out of it, and then the incision stitched and taped--TAPED!!--back together!  I wanted to take her stethoscope and shove it...somewhere unpleasant.

7. I was right by the nurse's station, which was a blessing and a curse. Blessing, because I was right by the nurse's station! I could push my little buzzer, and someone would attend to my needs nearly immediately. Curse because, again, right by the nurse's station!  7am and 7pm were the worst, because the shift changes were SO LOUD. I mean, irritatingly so.

8. I was completely exhausted after the birth, and there is this picture of me sleeping next to Avonlea. But I was totally faking, just for the picture. I did not sleep. Like, at all. I just couldn't, for some reason. The whole first night I basically stayed up most of the night, until about 2am, when I finally drifted off.

9. I also got chastised by another nurse, and by the NICU people because when I finally did sleep, both Avonlea and I slept for 6 hours--which, is a huge no-no. I was supposed to be trying to nurse her every 3 hours. But no one was in the room with me, and I finally slept, people! The next morning, when I was supposed to have written down her poops and feeds, and they saw nothing on the chart for the last 6 hours, they talked to me like I was the worst dumb mom ever. I felt terrible.  Oh, did I mention this happened right after they told me they were going to have to take her down to the NICU?  Yeah. Icing on proverbial cake.

10. After I gave birth, I feel like I was essentially a very large bag of water. If I left any part of my body lower than my heart for more than 5 minutes, all the excess water went and hung out in that part--most often, my feet. I can't even express how completely grotesque and awkward that is--I really should've gotten a picture of it.

11. A C-Section is one of the most out-of-body, weird experiences I have ever had. I mean, you're completely numb--but you can still feel things, mostly when the things that are happening affect another part of your body that is not numb. I felt tugging and pulling during the surgery, which was gnarly. But the most weird thing was when they transferred me from the surgery gurney to the rolling bed. I could tell they were rolling me one way and another, I could tell because my head was moving around--but I couldn't feel anything! I wish there were adequate words to explain what that is like.

12. The nice thing about being so numb is that you don't feel the lovely (read: horrible) uterine massages they give you after birth. At least, you don't feel the first few. If, however, you're like me, and you just don't seem to stop having things flow out of you, then they will continue to do them over and over, even after the epidural has started to wear off. Whoa. Not fun.

I realize now that most of these things have to do with having a C-Section. I don't feel like there is adequate information out there about what you should do if you have a C-Section. In our childbirth class, there was about a 15 minute blurb about it from our teacher. I was totally unprepared, physically, mentally, and emotionally for the C-Section. I felt like I had failed Avonlea by not being able to birth her naturally (d*&n cervix!), and by having to do things in this "unnatural" way.

On Turning One

We celebrated Avonlea's birthday yesterday. She turned one on Friday. It is really surreal to look back at this year and to see how much she has changed--and how much she has changed me.

Many people shed tears on the first birthday, but I didn't. To be honest, I am glad she is one. I am glad she is getting older. I really didn't do well with her as a baby. Many people pine for the babies, and say, "Oh, I wish my baby was teeny tiny again!" I might smile at those people, but on the inside, I am thinking, "You are crazy. Do you REMEMBER what it was like with a newborn baby?"

Babies are No. Fun. As a mom, you're sleep-deprived, you're totally confused as to what you should be doing, you're paralyzingly lonely while simultaneously surrounded by people wanting to help you, sometimes you're in extreme pain from surgery, other times in extreme pain from pushing a child through your lady bits. The kid you've waited so long for is all wrinkly and kinda deformed-looking. When you look back at baby pictures later, you think, "I really thought *that thing* was cute?" because honestly, 99.9% of newborns are uhg-ly.  And yes, mine is included in that. Avonlea had weird tufts of hair, and super skinny legs and arms, and terrible baby acne for the first several weeks that made strangers ask what was wrong with her.  I, of course, was so hopped up on drugs and natural love-inducing hormones that I thought she was the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen.

I took this kinda weird-looking newborn home, and spent the next 4 months trying to figure out why it wouldn't stop crying non-stop. Or throwing up non-stop. Or pooping out of these ridiculously expensive diapers that are meant to hold poop.  (I mean, seriously. It's the diaper's ONLY JOB. We can send people to the moon, but we can't figure out how to contain baby poop in a diaper? Someone figure this out already!)

All of this to say, I was thrilled when she grew out of her incessant crying. That shark was making me cray-cray. I was overjoyed when she figured out how to stop throwing up everything she ate. I breathed sighs of relief when she could hold her head up by herself, so I didn't feel like I was going to snap off her head all the time. I loved the day she could follow a toy around with her eyes, and then the day when I could sit her down under a play mat and do something without holding her for 10 minutes. The day that she sat up on her own, I had a dance party for myself. (No, really, I did. I danced to Disney music. It was great.)  When I realized she could go 3 hours between feedings instead of an hour and a half, I rejoiced.

Basically, she went from a baby I could barely tolerate, to a baby I could figure out and truly appreciate. Believe me, it's not that I didn't love my baby. It might sound that way, but that is not the case at all. I just don't do well in situations where I have no control--and having a newborn baby is precisely that kind of situation. So I didn't do well.

But over the last few months, we have really come into our own, and I am really enjoying her. And as she gets older, and starts to be able to communicate even more, it will just get better. I love the stage she is in right now, and I don't wish to go back at all.

Now, I might not want to go forward after this...but that's another blog. :)

Visiting Family

A whole month without writing?? Egads!

I have a couple of posts that I started, but have just "saved" for later. There are just some things I want to brew for a little while longer before blasting them out.

We just got back from a wonderful weekend in San Diego. We met up with Ashley, who was in town for the weekend for a conference. We were able to stay together in the hotel one night, and then our friends graciously hosted us for the rest of the weekend, so we could be together as much as possible.

It's hard to believe that Ashley has only been able to see Avonlea three times so far. Growing up as we did in Ohio, surrounded by family all the time, I never thought I would raise my little one so far away from others in my extended family, especially not her immediate family.

I know that we are supposed to be here in LA. And I really do love it. But I do *not* love that Avonlea is growing up without them. It sucks, to put it mildly.

Food Frustrations

I didn't give Avonlea solids until 6 months. It wasn't some kind of weird stance or anything--it was mostly because I was (let's face it) lazy. It was just easier to cart Avonlea around without a bunch of other food and equipment, and with how my brain is working lately, I would forget half the time, anyways.

At 6 months, we started giving her solids. Purees, mostly--apples, peaches, pears, peas, carrots, sweet potatoes (of which she is now allergic). I would also give her slices of apples and carrots to gnaw on, which worked well.

She took to purees pretty well. She wouldn't eat a lot at one sitting, but she was still being breastfed, so I wasn't worried about the calories.

She figured out how to use the pouches at 9 months, sucking the food out on her own, which was nice and helpful. Again, she still wasn't eating a lot, but she was trying out new foods, and seemed to enjoy whatever we would give her (well, except peas. She hated eating peas by themselves.).  She did show signs of stubbornness--if I gave her a spoonful of something she didn't like, she wasn't eager to try anything else from a spoon that meal. It was like she didn't trust me or something.

About a month ago, she really hit her stride. She figured out how to hold the pouches, and could eat everything in it (or almost everything). I was excited because we were finally to the point where we weren't throwing food away!  She would be quirky, and one week not eat from a spoon at all, and only eat from a pouch, and the following week, it would reverse--but she was still eating.  I continued to give her bits of "real" food, too--a stalk of steamed broccoli, apples, some rice puffs, a bit of pancake, a cracker, some goldfish, some Cheerios.  She would gnaw on them, but she wouldn't swallow anything solid.  If it was too big, she would just work it with her tongue until she could spit it back out.

Well, about 3 weeks ago, she decided she no longer wanted food. Nothing. No purees, no solids, no finger foods.  She won't let me feed her, and she won't take purees from a pouch herself.  I will put some "real" food in front of her, and she will play with it, but next to nothing goes in her mouth (the dogs have learned to sit by her high chair, because she will often drop the food off the side).  If I try to put something in her mouth, she turns her head away quickly, or spits it out immediately--she doesn't even taste it.

Around 9 months, when she got on the food kick, I slowed down her breastfeeding during the day--but as a result, she was waking up every couple of hours at night to eat.  Since she's been on the food strike, I am breastfeeding her more during the day, and she's letting me sleep 5 hour stretches at night. Yes, I know she should be sleeping all night. I KNOW. I was hoping that by bumping up her calories during the day, she would sleep better--but that is blowing up in my face.

I am just really frustrated. I try new foods, she won't eat them. I try "favorite" foods, and nothing. I try purees from a spoon and from a pouch, and I may get her to eat one bite or one sip from the pouch, then she won't eat any more. She won't eat ANYTHING chunky. I have been a successful getting her to eat Greek yogurt--but if she gets any fruit bits, she works and spits them out.

We're on a strict budget, so I HATE buying food that she ends up not eating, and then I have to throw out.

Did any of you experience this problem? Should I just ride it out, or should I worry that I'll be serving my baby a pureed 1-year cake?

Before I had a kid, I was an idiot.

Before I had a kid, I was an idiot.

I wasn't stupid. After all, I got a decent score on my ACTs. I graduated with an acceptable GPA from my high school and college. I graduated from grad school with a 4.0. I have fun impressing people with my Jeopardy! knowledge. I'm a smart girl.

But I was an idiot.

That's the only way I can figure how I would think I had any reasonable idea as to what to expect when I had my own living, breathing human being to take care of day in and day out. "I'm not going to do that." "My kid won't do that." "My baby will be doing this."  Blah, blah, blah, fishcakes.

I wrote recently about how I don't feel like I will ever really have the parenting thing down. I get one thing together, and something else inevitably falls apart.

But these days, I feel like every. single. thing. I am doing is screwed up in some way...and it is my fault.

See, I thought that in order to be a "good mom", I had to do it all. Well, maybe not do it all, but try to do it all right.  Keep the house clean, keep the kid clean, breastfeed exclusively, get her on a schedule, make sure she sleeps in her own bed, don't worry about giving her solid foods until she's 6 months, get dinner on the table every night, yadda, yadda, yadda. Every single thing I was doing I was doing it as well as I could, but also simultaneously feeling like I was doing it wrong.

We have 2 dogs, and one saying that we tried to maintain throughout the puppy years was, "If you don't want the dog doing _____ when they're 150 pounds, don't let them do it when they're 15 pounds."  So, Waldo and Gus don't get on the couch. They get in and out of the car and the bathtub without help. They sit when they come in the house if it's raining, so that I can wipe off their paws.

I feel like with Avonlea, I've screwed up so much, and I've made things so hard on myself. She's a figurative 150lb dog that I didn't train right when she was 15lbs.

I worked so hard on breastfeeding that now, she will only eat from me. She spits out anything with texture, so she doesn't get any nutrients from "real food", and I am wasting tons of money on baby food that she eats one or two bites from. I also feed her before putting her down for a nap, or down for bed at night, so now she will scream if she doesn't get fed before bed.  Know who that messes up? Definitely not the little munchkin happily fed and sleeping in her bed.

I was lazy in the beginning, and once I found out she wasn't going to take a bottle anymore, I didn't press the issue. I didn't work with her to take a bottle. So now she doesn't take one. She does do a sippy cup and a cup with a straw, but I have never tried feeding her with that before putting her to bed. I never tried to have Nick feed her before putting her to bed. So now I am the one who has to put her to bed every night.

Avonlea still only sleeps in 2-3 hour stretches at night. I know I should sleep train her. I do. I have all of this guilt that she's keeping Nick up and he has to work and I get mad because I just want to stinking sleep already, but my boobs hurt if she goes really long between feedings because she eats every 2 hours at night that I just get up and feed her and she goes right back to sleep. And if I don't feed her then she screams for 1.5 hours, or maybe more but I don't know because by that time I lose my mind and just get up and feed her. So now I have a 10.5 month old who gets up at least 3 times every night and so I can't go do anything past 10pm because my kid will wake up and want to eat. Nick and I have tickets to see my favorite musical group on Sunday, and it's going to be a train wreck (pretty sure I can't convince them to only have the concert between 7 and 10pm).

My baby is a sweet, adorable, snuggly pair of handcuffs, and it is all my fault.

I'm already saying, "Oh, I'm going to do things so differently with the next kid," and then I stop myself and think, "Next kid? Oh, #*#& no!"