Monday, December 24, 2012
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
If You Go To Get Frank Dressed...
If you go get Frank dressed, you'll notice his dresser drawer is loose.
So you will pull it out to tighten it.
When you pull it out to tighten it, you will notice a bunch of dust underneath.
So you will get the broom and sweep his room.
On the way to put the broom away, you notice pine needles in the living room and crumbs in the kitchen.
So you sweep those, too.
While sweeping you notice the baseboards need dusting.
So you Swiffer those and all the other furniture.
After all that work, you are hungry.
So you grab a cereal bar.
This makes you thirsty.
So you get a cup of water and sit to drink it.
(Frank is still in his diaper.)
So you will pull it out to tighten it.
When you pull it out to tighten it, you will notice a bunch of dust underneath.
So you will get the broom and sweep his room.
On the way to put the broom away, you notice pine needles in the living room and crumbs in the kitchen.
So you sweep those, too.
While sweeping you notice the baseboards need dusting.
So you Swiffer those and all the other furniture.
After all that work, you are hungry.
So you grab a cereal bar.
This makes you thirsty.
So you get a cup of water and sit to drink it.
(Frank is still in his diaper.)
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Friday, August 31, 2012
A Long over Due Birth Story
Frank's due date was July 2, 2011. Well at my 39 week appointment the kid hadn't even dropped yet. Also, I was not even dilated. Not even a little bit.
So we scheduled an appointment with the OB for the 5th to check amniotic fluid and progress. When I went in they put me on the monitor and I was having some contractions, none I could feel,but I could see them on the machine. After the ultra sound I was informed my fluid was low so we would be headed to to the hospital after the appointment. I would be induced. At this point I really did not care. I wanted Frank out. I just always felt after he reached full term, that he was safer out than in.
We ran a few errands before we went to the hospital. I went to Target for some granny panties because I had heard they are a good thing to have on hand after childbirth. I also bought a book, a night gown, and a salted pretzel because I knew it might be a long time before I ate again.
I got to the hospital at around 10:30. I was given my first dose of misoprostal while I was still in the triage area. Eventually, I was moved to a labor and delivery room, sometime around 12 in the afternoon. Time frames get fuzzy after that.
I got another dose of misoprostal around 2pm because when they checked me I was barely dilated. I was having fairly manageable contractions at this point. I did fall asleep only to wake up because I got in controllable shakes. The nurse said that was normal. At some point they started giving me magnesium sulfate because I had severe preeclampsia.
I remember the resident coming to check me at some point and telling me I was only 1.5 cm dilated. She explained to me that if I didn't show progress soon I would get a balloon catheter, my water broken,and Pitocin. I asked when I could get an epidural and they said at four centimeters.This is where things got interesting.
I fell asleep after the resident left, but not before I checked the clock and it registered that I had been in that room for almost 15 hours. I remember thinking half asleep, "They are gonna do all that stuff to me and then I get me epidural." It wasn't that I was in pain. It was just I was so sick of that room. Well, I woke up from that sleep in a blind panic. Joe said I looked like a caged animal. I made him call for the nurse and asked to be able to walk the hall. She told me that I couldn't because I was being induced. I flipped out and took the monitors off of me and threatened to rip out my IV. I was claustrophobic and could not even verbalized what I needed at that point. I think they gave me an Ambien to calm be down and help me sleep.
The doctor came in a few hours later and I still was not very dilated. So they gave me the balloon catheter. Then sometime after that my water was broken and the Pitocin was started. I got my epidural at three centimeters because of my freak out.
The epidural worked for a while. Although I started feeling some pressure. The nurse said it meant I was progressing. After awhile, the epidural wore off on my right side but the contractions were still manageable. Well, for me anyway. My sister was in the room during one and ran out crying.
Progressing my foot! Almost thirty hours later, I was only four and a half centimeters dilated and Frank hadn't even descended. the doctor said enough was enough and said it would be best if I got a c-section. And I swear I heard a choir of angels sing at that point. I was so relieved that I wouldn't have to sit in that room and having all these things done only to make very little progress.
They had to find some scrubs for Joe. The coverall thing they gave him was only a medium. Joe is 6'4. Frank was born at 6:16 pm.
So we scheduled an appointment with the OB for the 5th to check amniotic fluid and progress. When I went in they put me on the monitor and I was having some contractions, none I could feel,but I could see them on the machine. After the ultra sound I was informed my fluid was low so we would be headed to to the hospital after the appointment. I would be induced. At this point I really did not care. I wanted Frank out. I just always felt after he reached full term, that he was safer out than in.
We ran a few errands before we went to the hospital. I went to Target for some granny panties because I had heard they are a good thing to have on hand after childbirth. I also bought a book, a night gown, and a salted pretzel because I knew it might be a long time before I ate again.
I got to the hospital at around 10:30. I was given my first dose of misoprostal while I was still in the triage area. Eventually, I was moved to a labor and delivery room, sometime around 12 in the afternoon. Time frames get fuzzy after that.
I got another dose of misoprostal around 2pm because when they checked me I was barely dilated. I was having fairly manageable contractions at this point. I did fall asleep only to wake up because I got in controllable shakes. The nurse said that was normal. At some point they started giving me magnesium sulfate because I had severe preeclampsia.
I remember the resident coming to check me at some point and telling me I was only 1.5 cm dilated. She explained to me that if I didn't show progress soon I would get a balloon catheter, my water broken,and Pitocin. I asked when I could get an epidural and they said at four centimeters.This is where things got interesting.
I fell asleep after the resident left, but not before I checked the clock and it registered that I had been in that room for almost 15 hours. I remember thinking half asleep, "They are gonna do all that stuff to me and then I get me epidural." It wasn't that I was in pain. It was just I was so sick of that room. Well, I woke up from that sleep in a blind panic. Joe said I looked like a caged animal. I made him call for the nurse and asked to be able to walk the hall. She told me that I couldn't because I was being induced. I flipped out and took the monitors off of me and threatened to rip out my IV. I was claustrophobic and could not even verbalized what I needed at that point. I think they gave me an Ambien to calm be down and help me sleep.
The doctor came in a few hours later and I still was not very dilated. So they gave me the balloon catheter. Then sometime after that my water was broken and the Pitocin was started. I got my epidural at three centimeters because of my freak out.
The epidural worked for a while. Although I started feeling some pressure. The nurse said it meant I was progressing. After awhile, the epidural wore off on my right side but the contractions were still manageable. Well, for me anyway. My sister was in the room during one and ran out crying.
Progressing my foot! Almost thirty hours later, I was only four and a half centimeters dilated and Frank hadn't even descended. the doctor said enough was enough and said it would be best if I got a c-section. And I swear I heard a choir of angels sing at that point. I was so relieved that I wouldn't have to sit in that room and having all these things done only to make very little progress.
They had to find some scrubs for Joe. The coverall thing they gave him was only a medium. Joe is 6'4. Frank was born at 6:16 pm.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Frank's Birthday and Birthday Party
Lucky boy, he smashed two cakes. One on his actual day of birth, the other at his party. His party theme was traffic. I got all the printables for his party here. It was so hot, we decided to have the party in the basement instead of outside.
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| Birthday candle. It goes up to 21 years. You burn it each year. Joe and his brothers each had one. |
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| Before |
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| After |
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| Table centerpieces |
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| Filled with candy |
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| Posterboard of all his monthly pictures |
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| Loved the cake, but oops "yield" is spelled incorrectly |
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
So Excited
I hadn't bought a bag besides my Skip Hop Studio since I found out I was pregnant with Frank. What was the point since the Studio is big enough to carry both my and Frank's stuff. But a few weeks ago I fell in love with a bag I saw in Aldo. However,with two upcoming vacations,it was out of my budget. Two days ago the price tag went down ten bucks. Even better, when I went to check out it was half off. Aldo had to mail it to me because they didn't have the color I wanted. Today, it was waiting for me on my doorstep.
Because I'm Still Recovering From My Vacations
And he is so darn cute. Also,although he still prefers to crawl,he is walking across rooms now.
Friday, July 27, 2012
Been on Vacation
Frank's birth story, a year late; first birthday pics; and a my Liebster award answers and nominees coming soon.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
I'm Alive
We have been busy around here. Joe is finishing up his Masters and teaching summer school. I have been planning Frank's first birthday party. We have gone camping with Joe's family. And Joe and I had our first night alone. We went to the Brad Paisley concert and my mom took Frank overnight. Frank. Has taken his first steps. His favorite thing to do is walk back and forth from me to the couch. He picked up the word leaf while camping. He puts up his finger when you ask how old he is. He grabs his feet when you ask where they are.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Quote of the Day
"Statistically there was always a chance that this would happen. The fact that it did happen doesn't change anything. World doesn't suck anymore today than it did yesterday."-Dr. House
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Don't Ignore Recurrent Pregnancy Loss as a Form of Infertility
Too often,women who suffer from recurrent miscarriage are sidelined in the discussion about infertility. The idea is (and often ignorantly stated) that at least we can get pregnant. Except for women who suffer multiple losses,getting a positive pregnancy test is a moot point.
I experienced the same stab to the heart every time I heard yet another woman had gotten pregnant, as women who were having difficulty getting pregnant. I planned nurseries for "one day." I wistfully looked at babies clothes. I thought "if only" when some one complained about the discomforts of being pregnant. I cringed a little when invited to baby showers.
I changed my diet. I looked up studies about the causes and treatments of RPL. I got pricked with needles. I had doctor appointments with specialists. I had an endometrial biopsy and a hysterosalpingogram. I paid out of pocket for a lot of it.
I thought about my other options. I researched the financial costs of adoption and IVF. I thought about how many IVFs I would do before I said enough. I thought about how I would feel if an adoption did not go through because after the baby was born the birth mother decided to parent. I thought about how if we did adopt I would grieve not being able to carry my child in my womb and having to make peace with that.
It took a year and a half for me to have a healthy pregnancy. I had four miscarriages. But the worries are still there. Infertility doesn't go away because I have a child. As my husband and I talk about trying for our second, a lot of the same worries still plague me. Will I miscarry again? How many miscarriages? Will whatever caused my miscarriages now manifest by not letting me get pregnant? I still have that same feeling of being late in the game since so many of my friends and family my age have their second.
For some it's the inability to get pregnant. For me, it was the inability to stay pregnant. For all of us, its infertility.
I experienced the same stab to the heart every time I heard yet another woman had gotten pregnant, as women who were having difficulty getting pregnant. I planned nurseries for "one day." I wistfully looked at babies clothes. I thought "if only" when some one complained about the discomforts of being pregnant. I cringed a little when invited to baby showers.
I changed my diet. I looked up studies about the causes and treatments of RPL. I got pricked with needles. I had doctor appointments with specialists. I had an endometrial biopsy and a hysterosalpingogram. I paid out of pocket for a lot of it.
I thought about my other options. I researched the financial costs of adoption and IVF. I thought about how many IVFs I would do before I said enough. I thought about how I would feel if an adoption did not go through because after the baby was born the birth mother decided to parent. I thought about how if we did adopt I would grieve not being able to carry my child in my womb and having to make peace with that.
It took a year and a half for me to have a healthy pregnancy. I had four miscarriages. But the worries are still there. Infertility doesn't go away because I have a child. As my husband and I talk about trying for our second, a lot of the same worries still plague me. Will I miscarry again? How many miscarriages? Will whatever caused my miscarriages now manifest by not letting me get pregnant? I still have that same feeling of being late in the game since so many of my friends and family my age have their second.
For some it's the inability to get pregnant. For me, it was the inability to stay pregnant. For all of us, its infertility.
Monday, April 23, 2012
The Nursery
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| The bedding is Dwell Studio for Target Rockets. The night stand is from my college bedroom. Joe repainted it to match the bedding. |
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| My mom's friend used the bumper to make valances, so the material did not go to waste. |
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| Joe and I are huge Star Wars fans. Found these on Etsy. |
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Thought for the Day
As Frank heads way too quickly for my liking towards his first birthday, the conception of number 2( or is it 6?)comes to play. My RPL went undiagnosed. It might have but probably wasn't a luteal phase defect. It has been referred to by numerous doctors as " bad luck." But I don't feel like my miscarriages were bad luck. Rather I feel like Frank's birth is good luck, a miracle, the extraordinary thing. After all, I'm 1 for 5 as far as live births are concerned.
Friday, March 16, 2012
You Know Your A Mom When....
Wednesday was a beautiful day so instead of cleaning the floors or doing the laundry, I dragged Frank, a blanket, bubbles, and some toys outside. Two seconds after we settled in the front yard, I noticed some yellow liquidy stuff on the sleeve of my shirt. Sniff, sniff. Must be bird poop, I thought, because how would Frank's poop get on me? Plus it didn't smell. And Frank's poops reek. Well, it was not bird poop. Frank had had his second blow out of the day. And what had blown out got wiped up with my shirt when I carried him outside. This is where the mommy decision making came in. He was enjoying himself. I was enjoying myself and I had just juggled all the bubbles,numerous toys, a blanket and a 20 pound baby through the front door. If we went back in to clean him up we were not coming back out. And it was so so nice out. So I poured some of the bubbles on the sleeve of my shirt, and rubbed out the poop with the ground side down part of the blanket. It was so worth it.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Eight Months
I cannot believe I will be throwing a first birthday party in four months. We have already started planning and have a lot of yard work to get done before July. We are doing a Captain America theme since his birthday is so close to the Fourth of July.
Frank must have another toothe coming in. He's been whimpering in his sleep and waking up numerous times during the night again. He also needs to be rocked to sleep which only happens when he is teething or sick. Normally, we can put him in his crib and he will talk himself to sleep.
He's 21 lbs. now. He is quickly growing out of his 9 month onesies and fits in most 12 month clothes. It seems like his once extensive wardrobe shrinks everyday. I already have two large tubs of his outgrown clothes and I am about to start a third.
This kid can eat. He's hasn't rejected any fruit or veggie yet. He gets three meals a day. Breakfast and dinner are a cereal and purée. Lunchtime he gets a two ounce purée. He is doing better with crackers but sometimes his bites are too big or he takes another bite before he is done with the previous one. This is in addition to his 30-34 ounces of formula. My son loves to eat.
No crawling yet. Frank is a champion butt scooter. And any time I sit on the floor next to him, he pulls up on me.
He talks too. The cats each have their own names. Patrick is "Dat Dit" and Paisley is "Ee Ee." He waves in the baby mirror we have in the car and says,"Dada." He calls "Mama" all the time especially when he needs food or comfort. Today Joe walked into the room and he waved and said "Hi Dada."
Frank must have another toothe coming in. He's been whimpering in his sleep and waking up numerous times during the night again. He also needs to be rocked to sleep which only happens when he is teething or sick. Normally, we can put him in his crib and he will talk himself to sleep.
He's 21 lbs. now. He is quickly growing out of his 9 month onesies and fits in most 12 month clothes. It seems like his once extensive wardrobe shrinks everyday. I already have two large tubs of his outgrown clothes and I am about to start a third.
This kid can eat. He's hasn't rejected any fruit or veggie yet. He gets three meals a day. Breakfast and dinner are a cereal and purée. Lunchtime he gets a two ounce purée. He is doing better with crackers but sometimes his bites are too big or he takes another bite before he is done with the previous one. This is in addition to his 30-34 ounces of formula. My son loves to eat.
No crawling yet. Frank is a champion butt scooter. And any time I sit on the floor next to him, he pulls up on me.
He talks too. The cats each have their own names. Patrick is "Dat Dit" and Paisley is "Ee Ee." He waves in the baby mirror we have in the car and says,"Dada." He calls "Mama" all the time especially when he needs food or comfort. Today Joe walked into the room and he waved and said "Hi Dada."
Saturday, March 3, 2012
It Is All An Illusion
People come over my house and comment on how neat and organized I am. I shrug my shoulders because in my neurotic and anxiety ridden mind I am not either of those things. Now I am probably neater than most but my home certainly does not look like the ones on home decorating sites. Most days I'm totally faking it.
The bed gets made everyday. Well at least it looks like it is. It hasn't really been made since Frank was born. I I basically just pull all the covers up and make sure the untucked sheet isn't peeking out from underneath the comforter.
The laundry takes weeks to do. More than once I had to wash the clothes again because I left them damp in the washing machine and they smelled all moldy. And yes I have run the same clothes in the dryer twice because I didn't take them out the first time and they got all wrinkly. When company comes over the clean basket of laundry that has been there for days sometimes gets thrown in the closet.
My floors are clean for the most part. But please don't look under the bed or the TV console or the end tables. There is enough shredded fur from the cats and dust bunnies, I could have a whole litter of dirt kittens.
I have numerous catch-alls throughout the house. There is a basket by the door. There are nightstand draws and plastic containers in closets. All of these are tangled messes of phone chargers, sunglasses, screw drivers, and other odds and ends. My stainless steel appliances often have the finger prints wiped off them with my the shirt sleeve that got wet washing dishes.
The bed gets made everyday. Well at least it looks like it is. It hasn't really been made since Frank was born. I I basically just pull all the covers up and make sure the untucked sheet isn't peeking out from underneath the comforter.
The laundry takes weeks to do. More than once I had to wash the clothes again because I left them damp in the washing machine and they smelled all moldy. And yes I have run the same clothes in the dryer twice because I didn't take them out the first time and they got all wrinkly. When company comes over the clean basket of laundry that has been there for days sometimes gets thrown in the closet.
My floors are clean for the most part. But please don't look under the bed or the TV console or the end tables. There is enough shredded fur from the cats and dust bunnies, I could have a whole litter of dirt kittens.
I have numerous catch-alls throughout the house. There is a basket by the door. There are nightstand draws and plastic containers in closets. All of these are tangled messes of phone chargers, sunglasses, screw drivers, and other odds and ends. My stainless steel appliances often have the finger prints wiped off them with my the shirt sleeve that got wet washing dishes.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Gratitude
There are times where this motherhood thing is rough. When Frank is up numerous times at night because he is teething. Nights when it seems just as I am falling to sleep I have to get out of bed again. Nights where rocking him is nearly impossible because he is twenty pounds of ready to party at 2 a.m. And
Then, there are the days where putting him in his crib so I can pee is met with a high pitched screeching that rivals my cats' when they are fighting. Days when I cannot leave his side to even make him a bottle without him crying. Days when naps don't happen so nothing else I have to get done does either. Days that consist of numerous outfit changes for the both of us due to blow outs and spit up. Days that coffee just doesn't cut it because I am physically and emotionally exhausted from not having one second to myself.
Last night, the cat kept me up for two hours scratching at the closet door. Just when the cat settled down, at midnight, Frank woke up. Then, just as my husband got our son settled down again, the cat started scratching at the door again. Son of a B. Frank started to cry again. I was rocking him and cursing the cat in my head. I was struggling to keep my frustration in check because it was almost one in the morning and rocking and a bottle and singing wasn't getting this kid back to sleep. But then, I remembered what I was wearing to bed, my 2010 Walk for Rememberance and Hope t-shirt. The one with the names of my other children. Squirt, Chicken Little, Snowflake, and Rocky. The babies that wouldn't keep me awake in the middle of the night; the babies that I never got to spend hours rocking to sleep. And the frustration and exhaustion faded; and all I could be was so damn grateful for my child that lived.
Then, there are the days where putting him in his crib so I can pee is met with a high pitched screeching that rivals my cats' when they are fighting. Days when I cannot leave his side to even make him a bottle without him crying. Days when naps don't happen so nothing else I have to get done does either. Days that consist of numerous outfit changes for the both of us due to blow outs and spit up. Days that coffee just doesn't cut it because I am physically and emotionally exhausted from not having one second to myself.
Last night, the cat kept me up for two hours scratching at the closet door. Just when the cat settled down, at midnight, Frank woke up. Then, just as my husband got our son settled down again, the cat started scratching at the door again. Son of a B. Frank started to cry again. I was rocking him and cursing the cat in my head. I was struggling to keep my frustration in check because it was almost one in the morning and rocking and a bottle and singing wasn't getting this kid back to sleep. But then, I remembered what I was wearing to bed, my 2010 Walk for Rememberance and Hope t-shirt. The one with the names of my other children. Squirt, Chicken Little, Snowflake, and Rocky. The babies that wouldn't keep me awake in the middle of the night; the babies that I never got to spend hours rocking to sleep. And the frustration and exhaustion faded; and all I could be was so damn grateful for my child that lived.
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