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Dec 11

don’t hate me for this post

Dec 11

Seriously, I’m going to sound like a complete asshole but I just have to be honest right now. One day shy of two weeks into parenting two children and I have the following to report: so far, it’s been… easy.

Ridiculously easy.

A friend recently sent me a link to a blog post that was all about adjusting to life with two kids. It was very well written and inspiring, and had gorgeous photos, but in regards to the adjustment… yeah, there really hasn’t been one for me. With the exception of that one overwhelming moment while we were still in the hospital, so far, nothing monumental has happened. In fact, things are better than they were before because, A) I have a sweet new little human to shower with love and kisses and, B) I get to spend a lot more time with my other small human and get to know her even more. Plus, I don’t have to work for 9 weeks and I’m still getting paid. It’s pretty awesome.

Basically, if you are trying to talk yourself or someone you know into a having a second child, give me a call. I’m also available for calming fears about getting your wisdom teeth out (I had a really painless, easy experience with that too).

I was a little nervous about Eric going back to work because that first week, we had naturally split up kid responsibilities – so if he was tending to Molly, I was tending to Liam, and vice versa. But then Monday morning he was gone and I was home alone with both of them and it was still fine.

For one thing, I am exceptionally blessed when it comes to Molly. She is so well-behaved, and so good at entertaining herself when needed. She loves playing with other kids and socializing, but when we are home alone she’s perfectly content to play in her room with her toys, or play with colanders in the kitchen while I’m cooking, or even just stand in the middle of the room and spin around in circles to entertain herself. When I say “no,” she (usually) stops what she’s doing. She’s still not jealous of the baby. She’s seriously the sweetest, most good-natured, mature, self-sufficient, and lovely 17 month old I’ve ever met.

That’s not to say she’s perfect all the time – she does overreact when she doesn’t get her way sometimes, or if something (a toy, her iPhone, etc) doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to. But usually when that happens it’s just an indicator that it’s naptime or bedtime.

As for Liam, he’s your typical 2 week old. He sleeps, eats, poops, and sleeps some more. He’s starting to be awake for longer stretches but for the most part, it’s just a lot of sleeping. One thing that’s different between him and Molly at this age is that he eats more in one sitting and eats less frequently. It’s actually quite convenient because I don’t spend as much time nursing.

One reason I think it’s easier this time around despite the fact that it’s technically more work is that now I have confidence in how to be a mom (momfidence?). Right or not, I feel well-equipped to handle a newborn. I also know exactly what Molly wants and needs.

I’m hosting a holiday cookie exchange this Sunday and all week I’ve been busy preparing for it. More than one friend called me crazy when I scheduled the party, knowing that I’d have these two kids plus all the stress and time that goes into planning a party. I guess I was crazy since I didn’t know what to expect – things could be going the exact opposite of how they are going. But they’re not.

On Monday I completely cleaned out my dining room, which we had been using as a storage area for years but is the only logical place to set up 84 dozen cookies. I hauled crap to the attic and basement, vacuumed, dusted, and reorganized everything, and then followed up by cleaning out and reorganizing the front hall closet and doing the same for underneath the kitchen sink. And that was just by 2pm. I’ve been able to clean every day, and I’ll admit I was a little proud when Eric’s mom said, “I’ve never seen your house so clean” when she stopped by today. I’ve got shit UNDER CONTROL.

On Wednesday I met my sister-in-law and her friends for a coffee date at a cute little place in town I’ve never been to. After that I took Molly to story hour at the library, which I’ve also never been to (because it’s at 11:15 on a Wednesday probably). It was adorable. Life is adorable. I’m sorry. Don’t hate me.

As is probably evident from all the heavy lifting I’ve been doing (literally), my physical recovery has been great this time. I was taking Percocet the first couple days but have since stepped it down to just popping a few ibuprofen occasionally. The area around my incision sometimes hurts when I’m going to bed (which I assume is because I push it too hard during the day, running around like a moron hauling dining room chairs to the attic).

Even taking the kids out grocery shopping wasn’t as difficult as I anticipated it would be. It did take twice as long, mostly because getting into and out of the car was quite a production. I put Molly in the cart like usual and put Liam in the Moby wrap, which worked out really well. Actually, it was my first time using the wrap with him (which did make me feel that familiar second child guilt because he looooved sleeping in it). He is definitely a cuddly little boy and loves being held and kept warm and snuggly. Anyway, it made me feel bad that the kid is almost 2 weeks old and I’ve yet to start with babywearing. I think once this party is over and done I’ll be less obsessive about cleaning and can maybe just relax and snuggle like he wants to. It’s been very mild here in PA this past week, so being out and about has been quite pleasant, but if January is bitter cold I won’t be dragging the little ones out everywhere.

Also, Eric and I have been getting along really well – again, better than normal. The kids and I got home really late from the grocery store the other night because as I mentioned above, shopping definitely does take longer. I walked in the door and of course that was the exact moment Liam needed to eat and it was 6:00 and I hadn’t even started dinner – an elaborate Pinterest meal that had sounded brilliant in the early afternoon but not so much when everyone was hungry and cranky. Without complaint he took up the spatula and cooked the whole meal, which may not sound like a big deal, but he is not normally one for cooking and especially not after working all day. So yeah, marriage is good, kids are good, all is good. I really do feel like something bad is destined to happen because everything is going way too well.

You want to know the most stressful thing in my life right now? Well, two things. And not the two kids.

First – these dogs. These damn dogs. I used to be all judgy towards people who got rid of their dogs after having kids but now I’m starting to get it, especially since I have the neediest dog known to man (that’s Ryder). He has some sort of skin issue that’s been going on for months now and I’m at my wits end. He gets very itchy, sensitive skin whenever the seasons change and this year it’s worse than ever. The itchiness causes him to bite at himself, which leaves his skin raw, bloody, and disgusting. We put a cone on him and he’s literally been wearing it for a month now because he won’t. stop. biting. himself. Every time we think maybe he’s better, we’ll leave the cone off for a few minutes and he’ll rip open all his scabs and do it all over again. Couple that with a few nasty bouts of diarrhea all over the place and some peeing in the kitchen just because he didn’t feel like waiting, and you have one hell of a fun time! (I’ve tried everything for the skin issues – Benadryl, sprays, creams, coconut oil, everything. We haven’t changed his food in years and we don’t allow him to eat human food. So I’m at a total loss for what to do.)

Bird doesn’t have nearly so many issues but he has started peeing on the living room rug daily for no particular reason. Except to ruin my perfect reverie of existence, obviously. We aren’t going to get rid of them because they are part of the family, but they are seriously driving me nuts.

The second point of stress has nothing to do with being unhappy and everything to do with being happy.

I keep reading all these posts urging mothers of young children to cherish every moment, because we will miss them once the kids are grown. Well, I already know that, and my time spent with these kids is so brief that I find myself stressing out over being too happy. For every cute thing Molly does or says, for every moment I catch myself feeling totally content and blissful, I also feel wistful knowing that the moment is fleeting and that they’ll be grown in no time. It’s like I know these are the best days of my life, and I want to hold onto them for as long as I can. I have something known as “nostalgia for the present.” I can’t even enjoy myself half the time because I’m so happy that it makes me sad. Is that totally insane? I already feel crazy enough that I think going from one kid to two is easy because I’ve never come across that reaction before. Sleep deprived, yes. Overwhelmed, yes. But I’ve yet to hear from anyone else having a strangely effortless experience like mine. I can’t be the only one…

I also realize that this two kids thing is bound to get harder. Once they grow up and start bickering, once we throw a third kid into the mix and are outnumbered… it’s not like I think this dreamy happy world can last forever. I mean, it’s going to change a whole lot when I have to go back to work in February. But for now, I’m completely joyful.

It’s pretty great. And I’m 100% grateful.

Posted by amanda 8 Comments
Filed Under: miscellany, parenting mishaps Tagged: adjustment period, baby #2, happy

Dec 05

baby boy’s birth story

Dec 05

How has it been a week already?

You know when you have a newborn and the days just slip by and you’re left wondering, “What in the hell did I do all day?” Well, having a newborn and a toddler compounds that feeling by a million. I’ve been intending to sit down and write out this birth story every day, but even the simplest tasks seem to take hours and my perfectly reasonable to-do list never seems to get shorter. Of course it doesn’t help that it’s December, which is busy for just about everyone.

Anyway! Some of the more observant among you may have already noticed that I delivered a week past my due date… meaning… I DID make it to my one year work anniversary, and so I DO get the good maternity leave. Woo freaking HOOOO! On Tuesday morning I brought everyone a huge breakfast smorgasbord to celebrate. I left work on Tuesday night feeling awesome, and also ready to go into labor. At that point I figured it was a mental thing and maybe just thinking it would be enough to bring it on. No such luck.

Since I anticipated being early and couldn’t even imagine making it past Tuesday, I had finished up/handed off all my work and didn’t see the point of starting anything new for just one day. Rather than going in and twiddling my thumbs all day, I decided to start my leave on Wednesday and just use the day to wrap up last minute errands and spend some quality time with my little girl. Plus, it was Eric’s birthday, so I went over to his mom’s house and we baked him cupcakes and ended up having a birthday dinner with some of the family. It was nice…but still no baby.

Thursday morning was more of the same. I was on the “maybe” list for Thanksgiving, but I ended up going to Eric’s family gathering, skipping my family since theirs was over an hour away and I had my Friday morning induction scheduled for 7AM. We ate way too much, played some games, then drove over to Eric’s parent’s house to drop Molly off for her very first sleepover. By this point I was nervous as hell. One way or another, that baby would be out in 24 hours.

And then it was go time.

WARNING: I’ve included a few slightly graphic post-birth pictures below. Nothing too extreme, but there is a bit of blood, so I wanted to mention it before I shock and horrify someone.

Friday, November 27th (Black Friday!)

7AM
We arrived and got set up in the birthing room, where I donned my lovely hospital gown and got all ready to go. After they hooked me up to the monitors I was surprised to find out that I was, in fact, having contractions, about 8 to 12 minutes apart. I didn’t feel them at all, so it’s possible that my worst fear came true and I’m one of those people who doesn’t know she’s in labor. But really, they didn’t hurt! Baby boy was moving around like crazy as usual, so maybe he was just covering them up.

baby time selfie!

baby time selfie!

I got checked and was still only 1cm, 50% effaced (despite the fact that they’d said 70% effaced at my previous OB/GYN check, but whatever).

And despite the fact that I wasn’t nearly as swollen as last time, it once again took three different nurses multiple tries to get the IV in. Ugh, I have crappy veins! It was so unpleasant getting stuck over and over again. This time I managed not to cry, though.

Ouchie. Why do my veins suck so much?

Ouchie. Why do my veins suck so much?

8:15AM
My OB decided to use a foley balloon to get things moving along. For those of you not familiar with this technique, a foley balloon is a small catheter that’s inserted past the cervix and inflated, then attached to a weight. I was told it could take between 15 minutes and 12 hours to fall out on its own. I was also encouraged to walk around to help the process, so Eric and I started making awkward laps around the maternity wing, with me walking as normally as I could with a weighted saline bag hanging down the side of my leg. I did start feeling stronger contractions and had to stop every few minutes to catch my breath. About 35 minutes after we set out, I suddenly felt something very strange happening, so I turned to Eric and said, “I think it’s coming out. Yes, it’s definitely coming out. You need to go get someone.” It wasn’t very painful though, just very weird/awkward, especially since it fell out in a (thankfully empty) hallway.

8:50AM
I got back in bed and was immediately checked after our little walk and was at 5cm and having regular contractions – yay! My optimistic mind started to think maybe I could even have the baby by lunchtime. My sister – who works retail and was scheduled to work 10-2 (this was Black Friday, remember), started panicking that she was going to miss the whole thing.

My OB was doing a c-section at this point so I didn’t start Pitocin immediately. I’d say my pain level was about a 3 on the 10 scale.

9:45AM

Started Pitocin. Time to get the party rolling.

11AM

Surprisingly, the pain did not increase too much with the Pitocin, but I still managed to psych myself out since it just hurt so badly when I was in labor with Molly. It helped that the anesthesiologist who came by to introduce himself earlier was very nice and competent and had 30 years of experience. I told him about how much the epidural hurt going in last time so he researched my case and found that a student had been the one to administer the epidural (which I don’t remember at all). He promised that it wouldn’t be like that this time, if I chose to get one. I wanted to hold out and see if I could handle it on my own…but I was nervous.

So I got the epidural.

As promised, it went in just fine and barely hurt at all – just a quick burning sensation and it was over. I was told to lay on my side and let them know if I felt dizzy or lightheaded. Less than 5 minutes after getting the epidural, I started to feel funny all over, and then everything happened very, very quickly. My blood pressure started dramatically dropping and I was shaking and throwing up. It was 70/something, then lower – the lowest it got was 54/30. At the same time this was going on they also lost the baby’s heart rate completely on the external monitor. So once again a flurry of people rushed into the room while my poor husband was stuck in the hallway wondering what the hell was going on (my sister had found someone to cover her at work and had arrived by this point, but she and my mom and my other sister had all headed to the cafeteria to grab breakfast, so they had no idea about the drama unfolding).

Even though I was in distress myself, I was much more worried about the baby and the fact that they couldn’t find a heart rate at all. They stabilized me pretty quickly and then used an internal probe to try to get a read on the baby. The whole thing probably lasted less than 10 minutes but felt like a lifetime. I was terrified that 1) somehow the epidural had caused the baby’s heart to stop beating or, 2) we would need to have an emergency c-section. Luckily, they found the heart rate and eventually everyone cleared out and the commotion died down. Phew! Crisis averted.

12PM

They had stopped my Pitocin while the drama was unfolding and started it back up again at noon. Over the next two hours a pattern emerged – they would start the pit, lose the baby’s heart rate and/or get low reads, and then have to stop it until he stabilized to start up again. He was moving a lot and we were back to the external HR monitor, but still, it was clear that his heart rate was dropping every time I had a contraction. At that point I stubbornly tried to tell myself that it wasn’t really dropping, just getting lost since he was so squirmy, but my doctor did not agree with this assessment. They also put in another monitor to measure the strength of my contractions.

This birth thing takes too long, apparently. Part of my support team had to take a power nap.

This birth thing takes too long, apparently. Part of my support team had to take a power nap.

2:15PM

After a couple hours of stops and starts, my doctor came in to check me. Unfortunately, I was still at exactly the same place – 5cm. She went over to the sink to wash her hands, and with a big sigh she said, “Amanda, I’ve been doing this a long time. We can try a few more things to try to make this work, but I can already tell you it’s going to end up as a c-section. The baby just isn’t liking what we’re doing here, and you’re stuck at 5cm because we can’t keep increasing the Pitocin when his heart rate isn’t stabilized. So you can either do it now, when you have some control, or it could end up as an emergency c-section later. It’s up to you.”

She wasn’t trying to be mean… just honest. I knew it was a possibility all along and a stronger possibility since I had had one before, but still, it was a crushing blow. Especially since making good progressions was one of the reasons she originally proclaimed me a good candidate for a VBAC.

At that juncture a c-section just made the most sense. There was more risk involved the more things she tried (such as pushing more fluid into my uterus to try to ease the baby’s distress, which could increase my chances of a rupture). This time I didn’t cry. I just nodded and accepted that c-section was our fate…again.

2:28PM

I got prepped and rolled back for my repeat c-section.

this looks familiar

this looks familiar

Everything was pretty much the same as last time – same bright lights, same giant curtain to hide all the gory details. After just a few minutes of pressure and a distant tugging sensation, our little Liam was pulled out into the world at 2:54 PM with a strong, healthy cry.

he's here!

he’s here!

thanks for the cuddles, Nurse Larry

thanks for the cuddles, Nurse Larry

"I'm mad... and cold. Mostly mad, though."

“I’m mad… and cold. Mostly mad, though.”

Liam-Birth-2015-16

Liam-Birth-2015-27

Liam-Birth-2015-29

I found out a little later what all the distress was about – apparently he had the cord wrapped around his neck twice, and tightly, which explains the heart rate decels during contractions. Also, alarmingly, my doctor said that when she cut me open to do the c-section, my uterus was stretched so thin at the original incision site that she could literally see the baby’s hair before she cut into it. Um, wow… good thing we didn’t try to push fluid in.

One of the reasons this c-section was so hard to accept was that my OB/GYN is a twice and done kind of place, meaning that once you’ve had two c-sections, you’re not allowed to try for another VBAC. I know there are some doctors who will attempt a VBAC with a 3rd pregnancy (even found out it has it’s own acronym, VBAC2), but honestly switching doctors just to do that feels like it’s not worth it. Plus it seems my babies prefer c-sections. For my next child I’ll probably just schedule the c-section and not even worry about it, especially now that I know exactly what to expect in terms of procedure and recovery. Although my doctor quipped later on, “Watch, we’ll schedule you for 38 weeks and your next one will slip right out at 37 weeks as a surprise VBAC.” I guess anything is possible. I’m going to try not to worry about it just yet.

Afterwards

I got wheeled back to recovery and got to hold and nurse my son, which went well from the start! He has a strong latch and took right to it like an old pro.

born to eat, apparently

born to eat, apparently

My mother-in-law brought Molly to the hospital while I was still in recovery and we took some family photos – I look clearly exhausted but that’s to be expected.

Everyone took turns holding our little man.

Molly arrives to meet her new little bro

Molly arrives to meet her new little bro

Nanni and Liam

Nanni and Liam

Aunt Ashley

Aunt Ashley

Granddad and little man

Granddad and little man

Aunt Allie

Aunt Allie

Uncle Michael

Uncle Michael

Nana's 6th grandson

Nana’s 6th grandson

Liam-Birth-2015-86

Liam-Birth-2015-110

oh, my heart

oh, my heart

Liam-Birth-2015-91

First photo as a family of 4

First photo as a family of 4

it was an exhausting day

it was an exhausting day

The next few days went well, much better than last time with the exception of Day 2 for various reasons. I jotted down some notes so I’ll just do bullet points for the rest of the things.

-Remember our terrible pediatrician last time who I was convinced was trying to steal and keep my baby? Well, I definitely picked the right one this time! She was young (so I felt like I could relate to her) and very good, to the point that I would consider sending my kids to her if her office wasn’t like 35 minutes from my house. And get this – she has three children named Molly, Liam, and Aiden (which is my nephew’s name). What are the odds?!

-Liam has a sacral dimple, which is a deep indentation right above his butt that is usually harmless but could be an indicator of spina bifida. We had to do an ultrasound in the hospital but thankfully it came back normal. So now it’s just another place I have to wipe when I change his bajillion poopy diapers.

-It’s truly amazing the difference between having a 5lb baby and a 7lb baby. Last time we had what felt like a hundred people looking over our shoulders, checking and scrutinizing feeding logs and making us feel completely incompetent at nourishing our child. This time, since he only lost 1 ounce the first day and 4 ounces the second, no one paid much mind to when or how much he was eating. We were sure to take meticulous notes just based on prior experience, but since he was so good at breastfeeding from the get-go, it wasn’t an issue at all.

-Right after my surgery I was on morphine, and that was great, but the second day I got switched to Dilaudid (another narcotic painkiller) and it did n-o-t-h-i-n-g. Seriously, I must have some kind of intolerance to this particular medication, because I might as well have been injected with sugar water. Every time I felt pain, they pushed it straight into my IV, and then… nothing. No relief. So that second day was kind of like hell.

On a related note, Eric brought Molly to the hospital on Saturday around 9am and she spent the day with us there. He came loaded up with a bag full of toys, and intentions of pulling out the cot for naptime. I guess we underestimated how small the room was, and even more so with toys everywhere… Molly is a very well-behaved child and is very good at entertaining herself, but that’s a looooong day. Plus this was Day 2, when my pain meds were not working at all, so I couldn’t hold her or cuddle with her like she wanted me to, which was frustrating and heartbreaking for both of us. Nap time was a complete disaster because every time she’d start to think about drifting off, someone would walk in the room for one reason or another or there’d be loud noises in the hallway. Finally, after all of us reaching our wits end, Eric took her home in the late afternoon and quickly lined up a babysitter for the next day so he could actually get to spend time with me and Liam (since he was so busy attending to her, he barely got a chance to hold him).

Right before they left I had my one and only epic meltdown. Eric had to use the bathroom so he went down the hall and left Molly running loose in the room. I was nursing Liam and she was overtired and cranky at that point, and decided to crawl behind the hospital bed and get stuck and start crying. Prior to that she had knocked my nurse call button onto the floor and my pain was intense at that point. I sat there immobilized in bed, listening to her scream (after a full afternoon of whining and crying, mind you) and I was just so exhausted and overwhelmed that I started bawling at the notion of these two needy children to take care of. Eric and the nurse came in at the exact same time to find me sobbing and helpless. Of course it was all resolved quickly and I returned to a rational state not long after. So far, that’s been my only “moment.”

So my advice for anyone with toddlers – a day at the hospital with the new baby is NOT a good idea (saying that now makes me feel silly, like duh, we should have known that). The following day (Sunday), Eric dropped Molly off with my sister and then his sister came by later to pick her up and take her to a birthday party. I got text updates all day and it was clear that she had a blast, plus Eric and I were much more calm and relaxed not worrying about her all day and just focusing on Liam. Oh, and I had switched to a combination of Percocet/Motrin by that point, so my pain levels were much better. AND I got to shower finally. That’s a guaranteed mood lifter.

-Falling in love with Liam was not the same as with Molly. With her, I was so overwhelmed from the first minute I met her… I was a mommy, finally. She was so tiny and precious and waves of love just washed over me. With him, it’s not that I loved him less – just that I was better prepared on what to expect. If anything, I think falling in love with him happened more slowly, growing gradually over those couple of days in the hospital as I got acquainted with him and his individual quirks. So I ended up in the same place – totally head over heels crazy about him – but got there on a different path, if that makes any sense.

-Liam has the best grumpy face ever. He really just looks mad at the world all the time, and it’s totally adorable. Not that Molly was smiling at this age, but she always had a very inquisitive and good-natured expression… Liam, not so much. I was watching him the other day and I figured out the word for how he looks isn’t quite angry, it’s more like indignant. Like he totally resents the fact that we made him come out. It’ll be funny to see if that matches his personality as time goes by.

indignant, personified

indignant, personified

I have more to share but this post is creeping up towards 3,000 words and has taken me two full days to write, ha. I’ll wrap up by saying that the adjustment has gone even better than I could have imagined. We got home from the hospital Monday afternoon and Eric was able to take off until Wednesday and work from home Thursday and Friday, so I got to ease into this parenting two kids thing with help. Molly is IN LOVE with Liam. She loves showing off “her baby” and the first thing she says to me every morning when I fetch her from her crib is, “Baby? Baby? Baby?” She likes to pat him and point to his nose and ears and cover him with his blanket when he’s in his Rock ‘n’ Play. Every time she takes care of him I die a little from happiness.

Not sure how I got so lucky, but I am damn grateful. I truly could not ask for more.

"Dad, did you see this baby?"

“Dad, did you see this baby?”

kisses all the time

“I just gotta kiss him”

there, there little bro

there, there little bro

she just can't get enough of him

these two…

image11

one week old

one week old already!

Posted by amanda 11 Comments
Filed Under: milestones, parenting mishaps Tagged: baby #2, birth story

Nov 28

he’s here!

Nov 28

Introducing Liam Hurd Harding, born November 27th at 2:54 p.m. A hearty 7 lbs, 3 oz, 20.5 inches long.

You know the drill – long and dramatic birth story to follow, because, of course there is! But so far we are all adjusting well and his sister really likes him. For some reason she calls him “Cotton Candy” (or something indecipherable that just sounds like Cotton Candy).

liamshere

Posted by amanda 10 Comments
Filed Under: milestones, the big things Tagged: baby #2, baby boy, he is here

Nov 20

40 weeks today, and now we have a plan

Nov 20

I made it to 40 weeks, woo hoo! Baby boy just has to stay in there 4 more days for me to get the good maternity leave. The closer we get to the 24th, the more I believe it’s actually possible.

I had my last OB appointment this morning and I’m still 1cm dilated, now 70% effaced. At my appointment we discussed all my options. Over the past few days I’ve spent a good amount of time on Google (bad idea) and read horror stories about being induced along with horror stories about waiting. All of it is very confusing and stressful and really the only consensus seems to be that going into labor naturally is best for mother and baby, which I do believe, but also cannot control.

Here’s my catch-22:

1) Being induced decreases chances of a successful VBAC
2) Going past 40 weeks decreases chances of a successful VBAC

Basically I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. A few reasons I was leaning towards induction at 41 weeks:

1) My preferred doctor will be in the hospital all day Friday and will be able to keep a close eye on me
2) I had a few placental issues last time – the abruption and possibly IUGR (which would explain her low birth weight). If he stays in, could these things happen again?
3) I’d like to meet him
4) I made plans for 12/6 that can’t be changed. I know that’s insane/probably selfish but it didn’t even occur to me I’d still be pregnant!

Yeah so for these reasons I did go ahead and schedule the induction for next Friday, 11/27. Of course my sincere hope is that I go into labor naturally before then, but if I don’t, that will be the day. Part of me feels very guilty for not going crunchy/natural and waiting until the absolute end of the end week 42, but another part of me is relieved to have an end date.

By this day next week, I’ll be holding my son in my arms.

Incredible.

Posted by amanda 6 Comments
Filed Under: miscellany, pregnancy Tagged: 40 weeks, baby #2, due date, induction

Oct 22

today + one month = DD

Oct 22

Here we are, exactly one month until the big DD. Not that I want it to happen that day because of previously stated maternity leave issues, but technically, that’s the day marked on my calendar. Eeek!

I’ll be honest – and you can quote me on this – I think I’m going to go early. Space is LIMITED in the ol’ uterus. It’s really weird… I wake up and feel pretty decent/comfortable, but as the day goes on my stomach just gets tighter and tighter until it’s 7pm and I’m writhing around on the couch pitifully, insisting that someone needs to, “GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT OF ME RIGHT NOW.” Sometimes it literally feels like he’s just going to pop right out of there. It’s hella uncomfortable – like wearing an about-to-burst balloon that someone insists on continuing to inflate. Like, can’t you see there’s no more room in there? How am I going to survive for 4 more weeks?

Another reason I think he may come early is because he’s been head down for the past two months. So I think he’s ready (and is probably very cramped). I’m a little nervous that I won’t know I’m actually in labor because contractions have been described as a “tightening” and that’s something I experience on a daily basis. My whole abdomen is just… tight. It would be nice to know what it felt like but I don’t know. Remember with Molly I was induced, and the pain I felt was excruciating from the get-go. Now in hindsight I’m wondering if that’s because the abruption was happening. Would that make it hurt more? I have no idea. I just hope I realize I’m in labor and I don’t wind up on the news as some crazy person who gave birth at her desk at work because she was too stupid to realize what was happening. Especially for a second child. Plus… embarrassing, right?

Anywho…

Last night I posted the following status on Facebook:
fpost

The funny part about it was that about 2 minutes after I posted, the person who posted the article I’m referring to commented her apologies. Funny/awkward that she totally knew I was talking about her!

I’m starting to hate Facebook these days and that’s one huge reason why. I don’t know if your friends are the same way, but for some reason, a huge number of people on my feed (and the girl in question from last night is not even close to the worst offender, if you’re reading this S, I’m sorry to keep calling you out!) feel compelled to share links to these horrifying news stories, but I cannot for the life of me figure out why. Like… what is the point? There’s nothing I can do; the damage is done. All you’ve done is confirm that evil people exist and now I have to be haunted with the knowledge that another terrible thing happened to another innocent person. So essentially, you’ve ruined my day and made me feel helpless and sad, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Thanks.

And before you say, “So just don’t click on the article,” know that most of the time I don’t click, but the title and photo tell me more than enough. In this case I did click in because apparently I love to torture myself. Hence the sobbing. And no I’m not telling you what it was about because I’m not mean like that. Go to sleep tonight happy knowing that you don’t know. It’s better that way.

In the realm of social media, Twitter confuses me/stresses me out because I can never “catch up” and it just makes me feel like I’m constantly missing out on something. It’s easier to just never log in. I’m way too old for Snapchat. LinkedIn is boring and possibly pointless (unless you’re job hunting). Is Google+ still even a thing? The only social media space I really love anymore is Instagram, so if you want to find me, that’s where I’ll be. Ok, rant over.

I was toying around with doing yet another post about friendship or lack thereof but at this point I’ve written about it so many times that you all probably think I’m a huge loser or something. So rather than make a big deal about it, I’ll just add in my thoughts here at the end of this long-winded post that most of you have possibly stopped reading by now anyway. Sound good? Ok, good.

Friendship. I did finally make friends at work (remember how worried I was about not being accepted at first?) and that’s been fantastic. Monday through Friday, 8am to 5pm, I have a great group of girls to chat with, eat lunch with, and text randomness to. A few are actually cool enough that we could conceivably hang out after hours, but I live about 40 minutes away from where I work and all my new pals live near work, not near home. Soooo as much as I like the one girl, and as nice as it is that she has a fire in her backyard every Thursday and invited me to come, ain’t no way I’m going to drive the 40 minutes home, bundle up the baby and the husband, and then drive 40 minutes back to stand around in the cold.

In general, as I’ve mentioned repeatedly now, I really miss having close female friendships in my life. This is going to sound silly, but sometimes Molly is playing so nicely or just being so cute that I want to share her with someone. My God, does that make me sound crazy? But really. I’m proud of how good she is and how sociable and sweet. I know there must be other women out there with children around the same age and I can’t help but envision us hanging out together, watching our little ones play. But I don’t know how to find these people!

My sister got so pissed at me last time I wrote a post like this because she thought I was implying that she wasn’t my friend and that I didn’t want to hang out with her. Duh, anyone with a brain can figure out that my sister is my best friend. But sometimes I feel like a burden to her – like she has to be the default person I always call to do stuff with and maybe she doesn’t always want to hang out. Plus, she watches Molly all week long and while I know she loves Molly like one of her own, maybe she needs a small Molly-break on weekends.

In my little town, there’s an active mom’s club for stay at home moms that I can’t join because I’m not a stay at home mom (oh, the discrimination!). There’s that website I joined called Mom Meet Mom (I think they changed their name now?) that never amounted to anything. Then there’s MeetUp.com, which conveniently has nothing promising on it besides the aforementioned SAHM club. So… yeah.

My prediction is that once Molly is in school or starts doing activities I will naturally begin to meet and make friends with other moms with kids the same age. My problem, as usual, is just impatience. So at this point I guess I need to calm down and just classify this weird interim as “the friendless years” (which was the working title of my pathetic post that never got written). Or maybe I’m just no fun and I’ll be stuck writing rambling posts and having nothing but internet friends for the rest of my life. Hey! Stranger things have happened.

Posted by amanda 10 Comments
Filed Under: pregnancy Tagged: baby #2, Facebook, friendship

Apr 15

almost 9 weeks (but lookin’ more like 19)

Apr 15

Sorry for the silence lately. I’ve been suffering from this common blogging affliction known as, “Nothing to talk about-itis.” My life is firmly entrenched in that routine known as get up – go to work – come home – eat dinner – crash into bed by 9.

The good news is that this boring monotony is interspersed by moments of amazingness with Molly. The other night I was watching her scoot around her room with unbridled glee and all I could think was, “Wow. I love her more than any mother has ever loved a child. Or at least I have to be in the top ten.”

Surely many mothers feel this way. But seriously. I love her SO MUCH, it’s ridiculous. To the point that I feel bad for the next one, because how could I possibly love another human being with that much intensity? Or actually… I feel bad for myself, because if my love grows by double when he or she comes along, surely I will explode.

Speaking of the next one…

Nothing much to report, other than the fact that I look legit pregnant. I’ve only told a few people at work but it’s at the point now where it’s pretty obvious, not that anyone would say anything because presumably I’m still working on losing the baby weight and I wasn’t all that thin to begin with. But really. I hope that they all secretly think I’m pregnant, because otherwise I just look like I’m reaaaaally letting myself go.

My next ultrasound on May 8th felt like eons away, so earlier today I called the nurse at my OB/GYN to request another one in between. Honestly, how they expect someone with a history of RPL to go 4 weeks between ultrasounds in the first trimester is beyond me. I can’t handle it. So next Friday they’re squeezing me in for a quick afternoon appointment, just so I can see that little heartbeat flicker and breathe a little easier.

In general this pregnancy feels drastically different than the last. First of all, there are no injections – just a daily OTC prenatal vitamin that – let’s be honest – I forget to take half the time. Mild nausea in the mornings. Food aversion to vegetables, which is so not me at all. I’ve been doing the gluten-free thing, and of course it’s pretty easy because I’m so used to it, but other than that none of this feels really real. If it weren’t for my ridiculously swollen abdomen, I wouldn’t think it was happening at all.

I broke out the doppler a few times to try to find the heartbeat, but so far no dice. I’m not really worried about it – it’s still so early and it’s not even like I have the top of the line model. I didn’t find Molly’s HB (or even try to) until after 12 weeks. But still. A little reassurance that this was still happening would be nice. (Hence the added ultrasound.)

The first week of May, Molly and I are tagging along on a business trip with Eric, just for the fun of it. Swanky $400/night hotel that we don’t have to pay for? Yes, please! I’m a little irritated because last year this same conference was in New Orleans (and he missed my 30th birthday, remember??!!) and this year it’s in Washington D.C. Lame, right? I mean, I live on the east coast and I’ve been to DC many, many times… it’s not as fun or intriguing as N’awlins would have been. But oh well. If the conference was in some far-flung city, we probably wouldn’t be able to justify my airfare anyway.

It will be nice to take a few days off, at least. Once again this trip coincides with my birthday, making this the 31st consecutive year that I HAVE NOT worked on my birthday. My goal is to keep the streak going for as long as possible.

Other than that, not much to report. Just feeling like I should at least check in every once in a while.

Posted by amanda 2 Comments
Filed Under: pregnancy Tagged: 9 weeks, baby #2

Apr 06

good news!

Apr 06

Nothing but good news today – we saw the heartbeat! Woo hoo!

I did feel slightly reassured last week, so I’m actually glad I had the beta draws. Otherwise I would have been a nervous wreck this morning (not to mention all weekend).

Eric came with me to the appointment this time. I seriously envy his calm. He told me several times that I should stop worrying because everything would be fine. And of course he bragged about being right when everything WAS fine.

As soon as the image popped up on the screen I saw the flicker. Little blobby is measuring 6w6d, so well within range (I’m 7w2d according to LMP). Heart rate was 138.

Now I don’t have another appointment until May 8th! So weird to just be a normal person.

I told myself that if today went well, then I did not need to worry anymore and everything would be OK. So I’m going with that. Did you hear me? I’m not afraid anymore!

Here is little one’s first photo op:

7weekUS

And in case you wanted to absolutely die from cuteness overload… here is a pic my sister snapped a couple weeks ago of Molly taking care of her baby doll.

I have a feeling she’s going to nail this whole big sister thing.

bigsister

Posted by amanda 10 Comments
Filed Under: pregnancy Tagged: baby #2, ultrasound

hello, my name is deeda


sister, daughter, wife, and mama to 5 sweet children on earth, 4 in heaven. self-conscious writer. voracious reader. sarcasm enthusiast. dependable Taurus. lover of broken things. reluctant adult. FOMO sufferer. drinker of coffee. burner of toast.

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