Jun 16

one week to one

Jun 16

My aunt yelled at me because I didn’t mention my five year anniversary in my last post. Oops! All in all it was a good day – we both stayed home from work and hosted a yard sale at our house, and actually sold a whole bunch of crap. It was so successful that we plan on having another in July (another yard sale – not another anniversary). Then that night we went to Wendy’s for dinner – not just the drive-thru, mind you, but dined in the restaurant as a family. Yes, so romantic. I don’t ever let Molly (or myself, for that matter) have fast food, so as you can imagine she was in chicken nugget heaven on this rare occasion. We only went because we were on our way to an indoor football game, which is how we closed out the evening. I was really expecting a lavish vacation or a romantic stay at a B&B for 5 years – but hey, a yard sale, Wendy’s dinner date, and football game turned out to be not bad at all.

Other than that, things are just kind of chugging along. I’m still pregnant. Still feeling little flickers of movement and still getting a little rounder each day. A friend of mine posted that her timeshare was available in October and asked if anyone was interested. As I’m sitting there googling flight prices and trying to think how I’m going to convince Eric to go, I had a sudden realization – October. Third trimester. Hello, I’m not going to be allowed on a plane! I literally forgot I was pregnant for a second. That’s something that never, ever happened with Molly.

In one week, my baby girl turns one! Ahhhh!!! One year ago today – 2 days shy of my due date – I was enormously fat and pregnant and hot and miserable. Today I am still kind of fat and definitely pregnant but not miserable. And sometimes I don’t even know I’m pregnant. It’s amazing the difference a year can make.

I just submitted a post to Scary Mommy (even though I have a love/hate relationship with the site in general, I figured it would be fun to be published there. They have over a million readers…and they pay $100 per post). I really hope it’s accepted. It’s all about my guilt over not finishing Molly’s baby book. I know, so ridiculous, right? I’m a writer and I can’t even do it. And she’s my first child! What the heck is wrong with me?

oh, hang on, I know I have a heart-shaped photo around here somewhere…

I am really going to try to work on it this weekend because my plan was to have it displayed at her birthday party. The most annoying thing – besides finding photos to fit in the weirdly shaped spaces allotted – is trying to remember when things started happening. Molly says Mama/Mommy and Dada/Daddy, but most of all she says, “I DID IT!” She says that all the time. And that’s why baby books exist, right? Because as much as this is part of her identity now, in 5 years I probably won’t remember that every other second she was exclaiming “I DID IT!” and “I DID THAT!” or intentionally dropping toys and saying, “UT!” (no uh-oh. Just ut!).

But when I go back and read old posts, it’s clear how much she has changed already. Like how there was once a time where I fretted over self-feeding and how she didn’t really have the hang of it. HA!! Now the girl could demolish a Porterhouse steak, and I probably wouldn’t even need to cut it. No teeth and all. She is the queen of self-feeding.

So yeah, baby book. I think I’m going to go through all my old photos/videos on my phone to determine when things took place since they are conveniently sorted by date (thanks, iPhone). I do have months 1-5 filled in at least. The photos are going to be the real challenge since the spaces provided are so specific and strange. I want to order a whole bunch to display at her party but I’m waiting to see if the photographer gets her one year photo session proofs done before I do that.

And for this next kid I’m not even attempting the guilt-inducing baby book. I recently discovered (too late for Molly but not too late for lil’ crouton) that there are apps where you input photos and milestones, then order a pre-made book once your baby hits a year. Genius, right? And so much easier than putting pen to paper. I’m definitely going that route for this and subsequent children. If I remember. Eeesh.

Mar 23

9 months in/9 months out

Mar 23

Good day to you all!

It’s been pretty quiet on the blog front these days, has anyone else noticed that? I’ve had a bit of insomnia lately and have nothing to read as I’m lying there wide awake at 2am, which forces me to go deeper into the bowels of Pinterest than I ever wanted to go (some of the things people pin are just ridiculous). Come on, ladies, I need some late night entertainment!

Today my baby girl is 9 months old. I’m feeling so wistful and nostalgic lately it’s ridiculous. Physically, she looks a lot like she did last month – and even the month before – but that’s what happens when you see a person every day, you don’t notice the small changes that are happening right before your eyes. When I look through photos I see that she’s bigger. Her face looks more mature. She’s certainly reaching milestones left and right, and this mama could not possibly be more proud. Here’s what’s going on with Molly these days:

-She is a pro at self-feeding, and is so proud of herself when she does it
-She. loves. to. eat. Oh my goodness, the girl could eat a house, I swear! If we’re in the kitchen and I start preparing any kind of food, she starts making desperate moaning sounds as though she’s never seen food before in her life. I usually have to appease her with a pre-breakfast, lunch, or dinner snack to tide her over those 10 minutes until her actual meal is ready.
-She’s been doing this for a while now, but I just started noticing it because my sister pointed it out. She always puts her palm to her face to calm herself down if she’s cranky, hungry, tired, frustrated, or whatever. She also loves when Eric or I touch her face.
-She can scoot around the room on her butt with proficiency. She can also get up on all fours but has not actually begun crawling yet.
-She’s back to sleeping in her crib at night! Woo hoo! All it took was a little bit of lullaby music and a Twilight Turtle nightlight.
-Every night she goes to bed around 7:30. About two hours after, she wakes up – not hungry, just lonely. So I sit in her dark room and rock her for about 10 minutes and then she stays asleep until her next bottle at 2am. I love this time with her. The darkness in her room with the soothing lullabies in the background… her sleepy little self right up against me… usually she puts her hand on my chest. This is a little embarrassing, but more than once I’ve just sat there rocking and crying because I love her so much. (I think the music is partially to blame, it’s usually when a sad ode from a parent to a child comes on).

apparently this is comforting

The biggest change this month is that my milk has completely dried up and we are now on formula 100% of the time. This is part of what makes me wistful. It happened very quickly and unexpectedly and I must say, I really miss nursing. I miss the bonding. It broke my heart that she was so confused the first time I gave her a bottle (she’s used to getting one, but not from me). She adjusted right away and of course she’s fine but it’s still weird to not be nursing. I had every intention of at least making it to 12 months but apparently the universe had other plans.

Speaking of which… not today, but next week… you’ll want to stay tuned to this blog. Tuesday-ish. If there’s one post you should read all year, it will be the post on Tuesday. Sorry that I cannot say more at this time.

Consider yourself notified.

mom status: official

What else? Ah yes, this weekend we went and bought a mini van. No… seriously. People may question this purchase, but honestly I was never thrilled with my Sportage and it was not hard to let it go. We always borrow other family member’s vans for camping, vacation, etc… it just makes sense to have, with two dogs and a baby and tons of stuff. As vans go, it’s pretty nice with the backup camera and built-in DVD players with wireless headsets and all that jazz. So that’s that. I’m a van mom.

Up next this weekend is my big trip to Boston. I’ve already been busy drafting lists upon list for Eric on the Care and Feeding of Molly Harding. It’s funny because he is a very involved father and I would say he know 75% of her schedule and demands. But then there’s that other 25% I worry about…

Hope everyone is having a fantastic Monday. I’ll leave you with some photos from this morning.

Feb 24

8 whole months

Feb 24

Hi there, friends.

I definitely meant to start making structured, organized month-by-month posts, but I failed. I feel like at this stage of the game it’s too late to start. I have been pretty good about at least posting something when she reaches a milestone, so there’s that.

On Monday, Miss Molly turned 8 months old. At first she seemed concerned…

But then Daddy came in to make silly faces, so she cheered up!

Not too many developmental achievements happened over the past 30 days. She is still scooting backwards, not crawling. One change is that she’s started babbling a lot more – lots of da, da, da, with a little wa, ba, ba thrown in. I don’t think she’s addressing Eric per se, but that never stops him from answering her “Da! Da! Daaaaaa!” several times an hour with a “What? What? Whaaaaat?”

At least she’s a pro with (organic, gluten-free) cookies

Let’s see… the kid seems to have a sweet tooth. I’m still spoon feeding her baby food (I know, tres passe), and her favorite one is a sickeningly sweet combo of pears and guava. I started introducing non-mushy food cut into baby-sized pieces, but I think I’ve ruined any potential for BLW success by starting out with traditional baby food. She thinks it’s fun to pick up the banana pieces and place them gently into her lap – doesn’t seem to understand the whole hand to mouth concept. Despite these setbacks, we shall persevere.

I’m genuinely sick of breastfeeding. Well, let me revise – I love breastfeeding, and have even occasionally gone sans-cover up in public. At this point, I just don’t care who sees. I think the entire Lehigh Valley has seen my breasts at one time or another. What I’m sick of is pumping. I was really close to calling it and just letting her have formula during the day when out of the blue, my sister said, “You know, I barely have to give her any formula bottles at all… you always give us plenty of breastmilk.” So… drats. Looks like me and Mr. Pump will keep having our twice daily dates after all.

Lately my absolute favorite thing has been my weekly grocery shopping trips with Molly. She gets a lot of attention no matter where we go – especially when she’s wearing her super cute pink hat – but for some reason, whenever we go to Wegmans I have multiple people stop me to say that she is, “literally, the cutest baby on Earth.” Random people. People with kids of their own, even! Last week a woman stopped me to say it, and said that her 8-year-old son was the one who spotted Molly, and said, “Look, mom, the cutest baby in the world is right over there in that cart.”

Yeah… I died a little.

So besides the fact that Molly is a mini-celebrity at Wegmans, I just love the atmosphere of being there. Wegmans is a great grocery store no matter how you slice it (and I’ve blogged about this before). I walk the aisles, sipping my coffee, picking out organic, beautiful meats and produce, while Molly sits there with her cart cover and her darling hat, swinging her legs, overjoyed at all the things to see and hear. We usually enjoy a leisurely 2 hour shopping trip together. Truly, it’s the highlight of my week.

I know I’ve posted this before… but I just can’t stand the cuteness!

I’m not sure if many of you read my post about Mom Meet Mom, but it’s funny – not long after I posted, the founder of the site contacted me about potentially doing a PR push with my local news channels and newspapers to get the word out in my area. To which I said, of course! After what went down earlier this month (which I PROMISE I’ll be able to talk about very soon), I feel camera-ready. Or at least, more comfortable than I was before.

Coming up in March we have our annual family ski trip to Vermont, which is exciting but also a little scary (since I’ve never been on skis before). Then at the end of March I’m doing my girls weekend in Boston, without my baby, which is also exciting… but a little scary.

Other than that, not much to report. I’m just freezing my little tush off here in PA, with temps in the negatives and dreams of relentless summer heat. I’ve been feeling stir crazy lately – which is partially the reason for 2 hour+ grocery shopping runs – it’s finally at that point in winter where enough feels like enough. And based on Facebook posts from friends and overhearing random conversations, I’m not the only one who feels this way.

Speaking of summer – I’ve reached a bit of a milestone. I’m exactly 50 lbs down from where I was the day Molly was born. That means I’m within 10 lbs of my pre-pregnancy weight, but still about 25-30 away from my goal weight. Still – kind of crazy! Crazy that I lost FIFTY WHOLE POUNDS and still have so far to go, haha. I’ve been keeping up with going to the gym, and feel a swell of pride whenever someone there addresses me by name. I go enough that they know me there. That’s an accomplishment, for me at least.

Ok, that’s all for now. Happy Tuesday, everyone!

It’s never too early to put on some lipstick

jumping – always jumping

Dec 31

oh, what a year it’s been

Dec 31

What started out as a Christmas recap/Molly’s 6-month update post has now been hastily turned into a year end recap, or life right now recap, because I just haven’t had the time to streamline my disjointed thoughts into coherent sentences. The funny part is that now that I have a job where I could conceivably blog on lunch breaks or when I come in super early every day (because every website in the world isn’t blocked like it was at my last job), I’m usually too busy with actual WORK to spend any time blogging. Plus, I’ve been really good about going to the gym during lunch, even in the hard-to-stay-motivated month of December. So… yay for me and my jiggly thighs, boo for my blog. I’m sorry.

I’m sure I don’t have to spell out for anyone, especially all you faithful blog readers, that 2014 has really been the best year EVER. I mean… duh. Not only did my dream of becoming a mommy finally come true, but also I scored a job at the company I’ve been targeting for years, and so far, everything is just as good as I thought it would be (and yes, I am talking to my coworkers more, and you were all right, I was just being impatient about making new friends).

Christmas was so awesome. I took off on Christmas Eve and the company gave everyone off on the 25th (obviously) and the 26th (yay!), which meant that I got to spend 5 entire days with my sweet girl and my dear husband. Despite a 24-hour bout of sickness that I thought was the flu but probably wasn’t actually the flu, it was pure bliss.

But also kind of sad. Because the more time I spent with Molly, the more I got to know her… I mean, really know her on that day-to-day basis that I don’t usually get to see. And as much as I enjoy working, especially at my new job, it was a little depressing, you know? I had 8 weeks off with her when she was first born, but that’s when she was all newborn-y and hadn’t developed a personality yet. During the five days of Christmas break, I got to know her on a deeper level and to really enjoy her company, rather than just try to cram as much as possible into that one hour window before bedtime or our whirlwind weekends of errand running and other events. So yeah, it was great, but it also made me feel wistful…and thankful that I basically have the same thing this week (working from home today, then off until Monday). So talk to me on January 5th and I’m sure I’ll be even more sad/wistful than I am now.

But for now, I’m just looking forward to another nice break, and more time hanging out with our little family. Especially since we’re spending New Year’s Eve at home for the first time in a long time.

Here are a few highlights from last week:

-Molly LOVES being around people and commotion, and proved this by staying up a full 3 hours past her bedtime on Christmas Eve. She didn’t waver – not even as the clock crept toward 10pm. My little trooper! We got a late start to Christmas Eve dinner (par for the course with my family), and didn’t get to present opening until way late. Luckily, we always go in age order youngest to oldest when opening gifts, so Molly was first. Wouldn’t you know – she did a great job tearing that paper! She got a bunch of toys, which she desperately needed, and then promptly fell asleep once her turn was done. I figured she’d sleep soundly through the night after all that, but OH NO, that girl was up every hour from about 1am to 5am. One of those times I was so exhausted that I didn’t even wake up to her crying, and Eric was the one to go fetch her, try unsuccessfully to comfort her, and then bring her to me (literally, the first time that’s ever happened). Eeesh. She was up for the day by 6am and ready to open her Santa presents. I think she likes getting gifts…

Christmas Eve and so many presents!

gift opening pro

-Our big girl turned 6 months old on the 23rd. Every month I think to myself, “No, this is the best age!” and I keep wondering when that’s going to end (hopefully never?). She can sit up pretty solidly, though we usually do put a pillow behind her just in case, and have had a few unfortunate head-bumping incidents. I’m definitely not saying this to brag, but I’m super impressed with her fine motor skills. Her Nana bought her one of those old school wooden block toys where you fit the shapes into the holes of the cube (I hope that explanation makes sense), and it’s for ages 2 and up, but we figured hey, why not let her just bang the wooden shapes around. Not only does she insist on trying to put the shapes in (and understand that that’s the point of it)… she can almost do it! I seriously sat there recording her attempts for 10 minutes, but so far she hasn’t actually done it. Oh, well. She’s very good at focusing on tasks and I have no doubt she’ll have those blocks dominated in no time.

6 months!

so close…

-Here’s another fun new thing Molly started doing: giving kisses. If you’re ever feeling down, just take a little drive over to PA and I promise, these kisses will put a gigantic smile on your face. She gets this very intense look, grabs your face on both side with her two hands, and with an open, drool-y mouth, pulls your cheek (or your mouth, or nose, or whatever) to her mouth for a few seconds and releases. Then she always has a satisfied little grin when she’s done! I almost don’t want her to learn how to kiss correctly because the way she does it now is just TOO MUCH.

Well friends, it’s time for me to bid farewell to the amazing-ness of 2014. There’s so many things to look forward to in 2015. I find myself doing that a lot lately – looking forward to things. I’m not so obsessed about that one thing (MUST HAVE BABY), so finally I’m able to think about other things, which is nice. I didn’t bother with resolutions. I just hope to continue being grateful for all the blessings I’ve already been given.

May your year be filled with happiness! Love you all.

Nov 12

onward and upward!

Nov 12

Goodbye cigars, hello organic bean sprouts!

I’m beyond pleased to announce that after nearly a month of phone calls, interviews, writing tests, freelancing, and waiting on pins and needles, I’ve been offered (and have ecstatically accepted!) a new position.

Not just any position… a full-time with benefits position at my dream company. The company I’ve been applying to every few months for the past five years. (That’s no exaggeration.)

It’s at a place called Rodale. It’s a massive publishing company, and if you’ve never heard of them, I’m sure you’ve heard of some of their titles: they’re the folks who publish magazines such as Men’s Health, Women’s Health, Runner’s World, Bicycling, Prevention, and more. They’ve also published popular books such as An Inconvenient Truth and Eat This, Not That.

So you can see why, as a writer, the place is like the Promised Land to me. In the past I’d been applying to editorial roles and never got so much as an email back. A friend of mine (another writer/editor) and I jokingly began referring to Rodale as “the iron fortress,” because it seemed all but impossible to get in, at least in any kind of writing capacity. A current Rodale employee friend-of-a-friend looked at my resume and explained that I wasn’t getting callbacks because my work experience was “too commercial.” So when they posted an opening for an e-commerce copywriter, I’ll admit my hopes were up a little higher than they were the 497 times I had applied before. For the past 4.5 years, I’ve been writing product copy like nobody’s business. And you know what? I’m actually good at it.

The position is with their e-commerce site rodales.com, which was just launched last year. All of the items are carefully selected, and they only choose products that are responsibly sourced. If it’s clothing, it’s most likely organic cotton. If it’s imported, they guarantee the workers received fair wages. So in other words, I can feel good about all the things I’ll be writing about. Gives you the warm fuzzies, doesn’t it?

Bonus: they happen to be headquartered in Emmaus, PA, a mere 35 minute drive from my house. AND, super bonus, my neighbor across the street works there, so we can carpool and save some serious cash on gas.

The Rodale campus has a running trail, a gym with free fitness classes and discounted personal trainers for employees, a café with organic produce sourced from their own farm, and… wait for it… a daycare on premises.

Of course, the daycare thing is awesome (since I get an hour for lunch and can walk over to play with Molly! How amazing is that?!!). But, it’s a really good daycare, and it’s also open to the public. Hence…there’s a waiting list. I left a message to find out more details and I haven’t gotten a call back yet. It’s all right, I’m not in a huge hurry. The whole concept is bittersweet anyway, since I love that she goes to my sister and is bonding so much with her cousins. Even when Molly “gets in,” we plan to split the time between Aunt Ashley and daycare so that she gets the best of both worlds.

WAIT A MINUTE, I didn’t even tell you the best part yet. Are you ready for this? Are ya? Are ya?

I took a peek at their healthcare handbook, and lo and behold…they have infertility coverage. That is unheard of in Pennsylvania. And considering we’ll be trying for #2 sometime next year (with our frozen embies) and an embryo transfer is $2,600 minimum… this is AMAZING news.

It’s always tough to say goodbye. Over the past 15 months, I’ve really come to appreciate cigars more than I ever thought I would, and the people I work with are awesome. BUT, they work long hours in cigarworld, and now that I have the baby, getting home at 6 or later sucks (especially on the nights she decides her bedtime is 7:00 sharp). Working nine and a half hour days is something I just won’t miss. I also won’t miss my clothes and hair smelling like smoke all the time. But the people, yes, I will miss them.

So, onward. To the next stage of my life and career, a place where hopefully I can plant some roots and stay for a long, long time. 2014 has really been the best year ever.

Sep 24

wordless wednesday: Molly’s 3 month photo session

Sep 24

Aug 27

a day in the life (2-month-old edition)

Aug 27

I love these. Sometimes they make me sigh with recognition, and sometimes they make me laugh because they are SO far-fetched (and usually in those cases, enviable). Anyway, I thought it would be fun to make one of my own.

4:30-5:00AM

I wake up to the sound of crying. Multiple attempts to ignore the crying don’t work, and eventually I give in and get out of bed, taking care not to wake the sleeping dogs and sleeping husband. Inevitably, at least one dog wakes up and looks at me plaintively, wondering if I’ll take him out. I respond by shutting the bedroom door in his face.

5:05AM

Diaper change. Molly is usually sleepy and yawn-y and adorable. She only cries when I have the audacity sneak in a bathroom visit before feeding her.

5:10AM

Breastfeeding, take one. We sit on the couch, with all the lights off except the lamp we keep on 24/7 to deter burglars, and bond over Molly’s breakfast time. Sometimes, depending on how early we started this ritual, we both doze off for 15-20 minutes.

5:40AM

We wake up when Eric gets up and lets the dogs out of the bedroom. It’s hard to stay asleep with Bird jumping all over you, licking your face. She’s used to it by now though, and usually falls back to sleep fairly quickly.

6:00AM

I hand off the sleepy/sleeping baby to Eric and run for the shower, knowing that I have a limited amount of time before she wakes up and starts crying again.

6:10AM

Shower over. Baby stirring.

6:12AM

Baby starts getting fussy. Turn on the blow dryer and hope it soothes her back to sleep.

6:15AM

The blow dryer plan worked, but once it’s turned off, she wakes up again. I hurry through my makeup application and try desperately to remember to put on deodorant. Molly is now crying in earnest as I rush to the bedroom and throw on the first thing I see that fits and is appropriate for an office setting (no easy feat). There’s no time for jewelry selection or anything that might waste precious moments, so I just wear the same necklace every day, or nothing at all. I hastily make the bed to keep Ryder from chewing apart the down comforter while we’re at work (this has happened several times, and a tightly made bed seems to deter his feather craving).

6:30AM

Eric hands off Molly so he can go get in the shower. At this point I have two options – either strap her in her carseat and listen to her scream while I get stuff ready to go, or put her in her Rock ‘n Play and listen to her scream while I get stuff ready to go. I usually opt for the former so at least I’m one step closer to getting out the door.

6:30-6:45AM

Feed the fish, add last minute items to lunches, set out lunches, make my coffee, pack bottles, put on my shoes, find my phone, make a smoothie, put away miscellaneous dog bones, straighten up, double and triple check that I have everything, gather it all up in my arms, head for the exit. All while she’s screaming.

6:45-7AM

Drive to Ashley’s house. Her screaming quiets the moment I put the car in drive. I narrowly avoid hitting trees/other drivers because I can’t stop staring at her perfect little face in the mirror.

7AM

Arrive at Ashley’s intact. Molly is usually lightly sleeping by this point. I wake her up, pop out a boob, and settle into “my” recliner.

7:00-7:30AM

Breastfeeding, take two. Chat with Ashley and children. Reluctantly start trying to pry the baby off starting around half past 7, but usually end up leaving late.

7:35AM

Leave for work. Feel immediate sense of guilt/longing/wistfulness/sadness/envy.

8AM-5:30PM

Workity work, work, work. Obsessively check text messages for cute pics from my sister (and there are always a few). Check in often. Continue to feel wistful. Add in three pump sessions, and call it a day.

5:34PM

It takes me exactly four minutes to get from my desk chair to my car, and that’s not fast enough. I can practically hear her tiny tummy rumbling from miles away. Plus, by this point I miss her terribly.

5:50PM

Get a call from Eric (baby crying in the background): “Will you be home soon, Mommy? Someone is HUNGRY today.”

6:00PM

Begin disrobing on the trip from the car to the front door. Drop everything in the front hall, tear off my shirt and bra, and sit down to feed my hungry little love.

6:00-7:00PM

Breastfeeding, take three. Attempt to satisfy her insatiable hunger as mine continues to grow. Did you know that breastfeeding makes you hungry?

7:00PM

Hand her off to Eric and head into the kitchen.

7:15PM

Baby starts to fuss. How is that possible? I was supposed to be cooking dinner but all I’ve managed to do is unpack her bottles and put away half the rack of clean dishes.

7:30PM

Contemplate ordering a pizza.

7:31PM

Decide we can’t have pizza again. Whip together some semblance of a balanced meal while simultaneously washing dishes and utensils as I dirty them so that the sink doesn’t fill up again.

7:45PM

Dinner is ready. Molly is crying.

7:50PM

I shovel food in my mouth while she screams and Eric complains about not being able to feed her. I feel horribly guilty for making her wait, and also inexplicably guilty for his inability to breastfeed. Somehow I know it’s all my fault.

7:53PM

Breastfeeding, take four.

8:00-9:30PM

Intermittent breastfeeding between attempting to get things done. It goes a little like this: I feed her until she dozes off, sneak away to quickly pack lunches or put away leftovers, and run back to her when she starts crying (usually in 15-20 minute increments). This is what we call her “hungry time.” Yes, she sleeps through the night, but she certainly takes care to fill up her tummy prior to bedtime. This little window is also the only time I have to blog, which is why it usually doesn’t happen. Eric always tries to hold and comfort her, but inevitably she only wants one thing – milk. And that’s the one thing he can’t give her.

9:30-10:00PM

One last breastfeeding session to “top her off” and then it’s time for PJs and bed. Even if she’s wide awake at this point, she is really good at putting herself to sleep in her bassinet. All I do is swaddle her tightly, kiss her little face, and turn on her Sleep Sheep. Within ten minutes, she’s totally zonked out.

10:00PM

Back out in the living room, I contemplate tackling one of the numerous items on my to-do list.

10:01PM

Say to myself, “Screw it, I’ll do it tomorrow.” Know deep down that this will never happen.

10:10PM

Fall asleep before my head hits the pillow.

Aug 26

it did get better

Aug 26

Well, everyone was right. I cried the first day back to work, but not the second. One week in and I’m already used to it. I guess you just do what ya gotta do.

But instead of writing a post, I decided to do a post in pictures to show you exactly why this situation is working out so well. And without further ado… here’s last week.

This was how Addison (Molly’s cousin) reacted to waking up and seeing her at my sister’s house:

Addi loves helping Aunt Ashley take care of the baby. She helps with the bottle…

She reads to her…

She even shares her dinosaur.

Sometimes naptime can get a little loud, but Molly knows just what to do.

Other times, naptime is quiet, especially when cousin Avery is sleeping, too.

Molly’s cousins like to get chocolate on her, and sometimes it gets on her pretty outfit. Then Aunt Ashley has to do some laundry.

Meanwhile, at work, Mommy does stuff like this:

It’s always a good day for tummy time!

Or for just hanging out and being adorable.

Did I mention how much Molly loves being outside? She especially loves to rock on the porch and wait for Daddy to pick her up. And sometimes this happens:

After Molly leaves, her cousins miss her. But that’s OK, because they found someone to keep her rocker warm while she’s not there.

Now… do you see why I’m not so sad anymore?

Jul 14

adventures in camping (with a newborn)

Jul 14

It’s funny to me how many people proclaimed that I was “brave” or “ambitious” to be camping with a newborn.

Maybe a little… but really, from what I’ve observed, I’d venture a guess that camping with a toddler or even a young child is a lot more ambitious. I mean, if I put Molly in her little rocker and turned my back for a second, I knew she’d still be sitting in that same rocker. Do the same thing with a 2-year-old, and she’d more than likely be riding a bear piggyback or something.

In other words, newborns are low maintenance. On our camping trip, she did the same things that she does at home – eat. sleep. poop. Yes, waking up to nurse in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night is not as comfy as doing the same in my own home, but still, we were in our camper. It’s not like we were tent camping.

It was very nice and relaxing, and we’re already making plans to go again and make good use of our new camper that we just purchased this year.

Here’s something I didn’t realize about our little camping excursion: one year ago last weekend, I was camping. I was also in the midst of a miscarriage. Sometimes I feel bad because I usually reference the miscarriage of the twins more often, and it almost seems like Baby Toast (who we lost on July 8th) is “forgotten about.” But how could I forget? This is a line from my post last year, the one entitled “camping and miscarriage are not mutually enjoyable”

It’s still possible to have a baby of our own to take camping next year. Far-fetched, perhaps, but possible.

I seriously want to go back in time and hug myself. I want to tell this sad, past version of myself that one year can make all the difference, and that camping will never be the same again. Then I want to show her (me) these pictures and say, “See? It all works out in the end.”

Jun 30

a birth story

Jun 30

Lots of drama for this birth story! Would you have expected it any other way? The only item on my birth plan (besides the generic “deliver a healthy baby!”) was that I really, really, really didn’t want a C-section.

I’m sure you can see where this is going.

It now makes sense to me why most people choose to divide birth stories into two or even three parts, because this post is going to be obnoxiously long. Of course, I don’t really have time to write any of this. But I also need to write it all while it’s fresh in my mind, because I do want an accurate record that I can go back and re-visit in the future. Plus, I love reading other people’s birth stories, so I knew I wanted to share mine.

I’m going to break this up as much as possible. I started writing it long before I was induced, so the first few parts are boring. (Sorry). The action picks up on Sunday night.

Friday, June 20th (40 weeks + 2 days)

I woke up and took a shower at 6:30 with every intention of going to work. While I was blow-drying my hair, Eric complained of indigestion from the red sauce with onions that I had poisoned him with the night before. He said he was taking a sick day. At this point I was having a few contractions here and there, plus I knew I wouldn’t really have a lot going on at work. I decided to start my leave one day early. Immediately after making the decision, it felt like a weight had been lifted and my mood improved by 1,000%.

Eric and I went to a gigantic warehouse frame sale at 9, and I was happy that we didn’t have to wait for Saturday like we had originally planned, since all the good stuff might have been gone. We stocked up on frames for future baby photos and spent less than $100 for piles and piles of merchandise. I was feeling great! I was still having contractions at this point, but very sporadically, nothing sustained. We met up with my mom at the frame sale and she kidnapped me to take me to the chiropractor (remember him?). Apparently he had been bugging her to make me come in for an adjustment pre-baby, but I had just never gotten around to it.

I got adjusted and he did some pressure point stuff in my feet, and then my mom and I went to Starbucks. Weirdly, I had been wanting daily Frappucinos, and I knew my days of consuming that many calories in one sitting were drawing to a close. Then we stopped at my sister’s house to drop off some frames I had bought for her. My contractions at this point were definitely intense, but still sporadic. After watching me wince a few times, my mom scolded me and said I should be writing them down. She said to be sure to note the date and year because she still has some scribbled down contraction logs and can’t remember which kid each one is for. I recorded one contraction and time and then forget to do it for the rest of the day.

Back at home I quickly became bored just waiting for my OB/GYN appointment at 2:30. (Boredom is a big theme here!) I vacuumed the house (obviously). Finally, it was appointment time. I thought that maybe there would have been some progress since I was having so many contractions. But no…I was still only 1/2 cm, although the doctor said my cervix was “definitely thinner.” My blood pressure was high-ish again, and she said that if I hadn’t already scheduled the induction, she would have made me do it that weekend. This made me feel better, knowing that I wasn’t just being induced due to my own impatience, but also out of medical necessity.

I knew I didn’t want to go home and sit around. I went to the grocery store and picked up random items that I probably didn’t need. I went to the library and got one book, not knowing how many (if any!) I’d have time for in the upcoming days. Finally I went back home, and Eric and I decided to start watching LOST since neither of us had ever seen it. By this point my contractions had stopped completely, and she was moving around a lot. We went to bed around midnight.

Saturday, June 21st (40 weeks + 3 days)

The first day of summer dawned sunny, gorgeous, and not at all humid! The weather could not have been more perfect. I was immediately envious of everyone camping (my family and part of Eric’s family).

I wasn’t having ANY contractions in the morning. I’ll admit that it was kind of exciting to know that my potential Gemini baby was now officially a Cancer – many of my best friends, including my sister, are Cancers. That is a sign that I know I get along well with (not to discount Geminis, of course). I decided to embark on some unnecessary shopping trips to waste some time. Oh, and vacuum. And get a Frappucino. It was starting to feel like Groundhog Day.

I really didn’t do anything productive for the rest of the day…watched some more LOST. Stopped by my sister’s house to visit. Had my first real gluten-filled meal since September (pizza…and yes, it gave me an instant headache). I managed to convince Eric to have relations, thinking this could help bring something on since that’s what everyone kept saying. It had been A WHILE. But no…even several hours and many episodes of LOST later, no contractions, no nothing. We went to bed about 1 am.

Sunday, June 22nd (40 weeks + 4 days)

I cannot fully express the boredom leading up to this event! Eric and I were seriously just pacing around the house, trying to come up with things to do. He installed the carseat in my car. We sat at the kitchen table and stared at each other. We contemplated how the HELL we were going to survive yet another 12 hours with nothing to do. It was such a weird place to be – we didn’t want to start any major projects (trim painting, backyard clean-up, etc.), but at the same time, the gorgeous weather made it hard to justify a day spend vegging out in front of the television. This was so not how I expected it to be. I expected to be running around, throwing things in bags, bickering and panicking and trying not to forget anything as we hurried over to the hospital. In reality, all I kept repeating was Phoebe’s gem of a line from Friends: “The miracle of birth sure is a snooze-fest.”

At my appointment on Friday, my doctor said to be sure to eat a good meal before coming to the hospital, so Eric and I made plans to go out to dinner at Bonefish Grill for one last hurrah. The waitress gave us a free appetizer when we mentioned what we were on our way to do. I treated myself to bread and gluten galore, and it was glorious.

8 p.m.

At the hospital there was a lot more waiting around, and we didn’t get sent back into our room to get started until several hours after our 8 p.m. arrival. Usually inductions start out in triage, but they were overbooked so we lucked out and got to settle into our birthing room right away. My birthing room team included Eric, my mom, my sister Ashley, and my sister Allie. Eric’s mom and sisters had plans of coming to join us once I was further along. A lot of people wanted to watch her come into the world.

our room

Allie drew this for our little Cancer sign crab baby!!

I was very, very swollen and hadn’t been keeping up on my fluid intake as well as I should have been. The week prior when I went in for blood work with the whole high blood pressure incident, the nurse had such a hard time finding a vein to stick that I ended up with a giant, ugly black bruise on my forearm. Well, this time I was even more swollen, and the nurse trying to put in the IV was NOT FUN AT ALL. She kept looking and thinking she found one and pushing and pushing her gigantic needle into my hand – apologizing, of course, but meanwhile I was crying and trying not to scream out in pain. In the end it took three different nurses about 30 minutes and multiple stab attempts to get the IV in. I could have kissed the one who finally succeeded.

Monday, June 23, 2014

2 a.m.

I was still only ½ centimeter at this point and it was determined that I had a “strong cervix,” so they administered Cytotec (vaginal suppository) to soften it and hopefully bring on contractions. I was to have another dose in four hours and see if I needed another. Everyone on my crew dozed off or kept me company watching TV.

swollen hands on the belly

6 a.m.

Another dose of Cytotec. I had been experiencing mild contractions, totally manageable, and breathing through them. They sucked, but I was handling it. At my next check, I was pleased to hear that I’d at least progressed to 1.5 cm, but also frustrated at how slowly it was all going.

view beyond my fat feet

Allie and Ashley

8 a.m.

So much for stoic grace through the pain. HOLY FREAKING SHIT. It was around this time that the pain reached a point of unbearable, and I thought I had a high threshold. The worst part of contractions was the knowledge that right when you finished one, another was just around the corner, so even the short relief of the in between held a sense of dread. At that point I was still only 2 cm dilated, and the thought of the pain getting worse made me want to jump out the window. In tears, I ~~asked~~ begged for the epidural.

10 a.m.

The anesthesiologist arrived and I’m pretty sure I told him I was in love with him (he gets that a lot, apparently). Not going to lie – getting an epidural put in is no picnic. It HURT going in, and the nurse in charge of holding me still and soothing my hysterics definitely deserves a raise. But then, within minutes, the sweet numbness took over and everything felt wonderful. Contraction? What contraction?

10:30 a.m.

They started Pitocin to move things along. After a small dose, I started progressing rapidly and my contractions were 1 to 2 minutes apart. Within a short amount of time (which of course I didn’t record), I was at 6 cm. Everyone started getting excited.

11:45 a.m.

I should mention that L&D was very busy and throughout the whole night, we kept getting told that we were the least complicated and therefore least priority case on the whole floor. Minimal check-ins, minimal supervision. But then suddenly at 11:45, 7 or 8 doctors came bursting into the room like there was a fire. They raced over to the monitors and started yelling things at one another and creating a commotion and told me that the baby’s heart rate had dropped rapidly and dangerously and they needed to get it up quickly or we’d need to get her out NOW. I was totally panicked and the change in the room was instant. They turned me onto my side and put an oxygen mask on me. I started crying pretty hard because all I wanted was a vaginal delivery and most of all for everyone to witness it who wanted to see it, especially Eric. I just remember the magic of watching my nieces and nephew, not to mention my brother and sister being born. I really wanted that for Eric. Also, the fact that she was in distress was really scary.

Again, I stopped taking notes at this point, but it wasn’t a long time before my doctor came in and broke the news – we were going to have to do a C-section due to fetal distress. There are two doctors at my practice, and the one in charge of my delivery happened to be the one who is very against doing unnecessary C-sections. In other words, if she said it had to be done…well, it had to be done. I made peace with it in my heart and tried to prepare myself mentally for surgery.

They wheeled me back into the operating room and put up the huge curtain. In no time at all I was number than numb, basically everywhere from the neck down. Eric got to come in and sit by my head and keep my company. All I felt was a lot of tugging and pulling. I’m really glad that it wasn’t until afterwards that I found out exactly HOW they perform a C-section. I was picturing a nice little slit and then pulling the baby out gently. Only later was I told that all of my insides were removed and placed on a table. Uhhh… yeah. Gross.

1:32 p.m.

Molly Marie entered the world with a small wail. At that point I was nauseated and numb and just felt weird all over, but I could kind of see her over on the little table with the NICU people and I could definitely hear her, which was reassuring. It occurred to me that I was torn open and could have potentially bled out and died. I asked God to spare me at least long enough to meet her, because it really wouldn’t be fair to make it so far and not even get to see her up close.

here she is!

Daddy gets to see her

it’s really loud and scary out here

Eric and Molly left (they did come over and show her to me first, but I still didn’t get a chance to touch her). It took an hour to sew me up, an hour I spent alone, wondering about my baby, and listening to the doctor’s chat about this and that. It was torturous.

After they finished, I was wheeled back to recovery. Along the way I saw my entourage – a crowd of excited people including Eric’s mom and sisters, a friend, and everyone from the delivery crew cheering me on. I felt a sense of exhaustion at this point that is completely indescribable, though I tried to put on a brave face as they gushed over how cute she was. Back in recovery, I finally got to meet her, but I couldn’t even hold her in my arms yet because they were still numb and I could only move my head from side to side. Everyone took turns visiting me two by two and meeting the baby. It really was too much to comprehend at that point and honestly all I wanted to do was close my eyes and sleep forever.

Then finally, hours after her birth, I got to hold my little girl.

exhausted, yet elated

I think she’s exhausted too

Aftermath

The recovery has been pretty painful. The first day I felt great – and couldn’t believe how great – but then my morphine ran out and I was stuck with nothing but Percocet and Motrin. My abdomen is very, very sore and my ankles, calves, and feet swelled up so bad at one point that it was hard to walk. Every day gets a little better.

And here is the absolutely terrifying part. Apparently the cause of fetal distress during delivery was a placental abruption, an uncommon and serious pregnancy complication where the placenta peels away from the wall of the uterus prior to delivery. This is one of those things that just happens, in my case not until actual labor, but it can cause significant risk for mother and baby during delivery. Pathology reported that my placenta was 20% detached. As my doctor said bluntly during a post-op visit in the hospital, “If we hadn’t done the C-section when we did it, your baby would have died.”

Whoa.

Sooo with that in mind, I’m not mad about it. No, the whole birth experience was not ideal, but my baby is safe and healthy and here, my pain will fade, my scars will heal, and this will just be that crazy story we tell about how Molly came into the world in her own way. Also, my doctor said that this was an isolated incident and my pelvis looked good, plus I was making good progression before things went south. She said I was an excellent candidate for VBAC, which makes me happy, because that’s something I would really like to try when we have another child. It’s funny, I was actually a C-section and all of my mom’s four other deliveries were VBAC. So it would seem Molly is following in her mommy’s footsteps.

And motherhood so far? It’s just what I would have expected and it’s better than I would have expected. I’m so overwhelmed by love that I can’t express it with words. Most nights I kiss her all over, and stare at her, and let tears fall all over her blanket and her tiny face because I can’t believe I get to be her mommy. She was worth every minute of the wait, and I would gladly do it all again a thousand times if it meant I got to have her in my life. I feel so, so blessed and so, so thankful. It’s like living in a dream world.

Stay tuned, because our post-delivery story (a.k.a. our 6-day stint in the hospital) has even more drama than her birth story! But alas, this post is creeping up on 3,000 words and I am barely able to keep my eyes open.

Here are a few more snapshots:

Daddy and his baby

proud Aunt Allie

the little smile that makes my heart melt