A Mother's Intuition

First... I have to set the scene for where I am right now.

I am sitting on the back porch with the fan wide open and I am still steaming at 10am.  I am loving it. The best part though? One child is running around in the yard, splashing in the pool and having a ball, and the other is sleeping peacefully in a bouncy seat at my side. I feel so lucky it makes me laugh. It is going to be a sweltering day that makes everyone a little bit lazy. I am looking forward to it.

********************** -me changing subjects.

I have been wandering around with this post in my head for a little over a week now, and I really wanted to get it out. Otherwise, I would probably just skip it and move on.  I am now a mother of two. I feel like I have joined a new secret society.  The one where you no longer have it easy because the adults no longer outnumber the kids, and you are now man-on-man. I didn't realize there were different societies, but everyone is suddenly cutting me a little more slack when I don't get things done when I should or when I forget to drop off the sandwich money at the preschool for I don't know how many days in a row.

Back to it- the first week of this precious babe's life

I did the typical weigh-in at the pediatrician's office.  He had dropped weight, expected, of course.  They all do.  So it is requested that I come back in 4 days to see if he has gained weight.  Well, he still hadn't. Still somewhat expected, but the doctor that we had been fit in with, starts the speech of, "You may want to think about supplementing." I was immediately defensive.

You have to have the history to completely understand.  I tried breastfeeding Preston, and due to a terrible rash I was put on medication to clear the rash up. When I say terrible, I mean covered head to toe. The medicine did clear up the rash, but it also, dried me up, so that I couldn't feed my firstborn. It was very upsetting.  We didn't learn until way after the fact that the medicine was the culprit.  I had done everything to keep my supply up, I bought all the supplements, I pumped, I drank a beer a day, nothing helped and I starved Preston for two weeks before I finally gave in and gave up. He became a different baby.  He was happy, content and started sleeping through the night.

Back to the doctor's office.  She immediately started backpedaling, realizing she had stepped on some toes. I promptly explained the history, and that we weren't going down that road with this child. That he was happy, he was content and that if I felt that he wasn't, then I would have no problem giving him formula to give him what he needs.  I didn't feel the need to explain to her that he was only a week old, and she had just told me four days earlier that they expect them to hit their lowest weight at a week of age. She said that they would need to see him back in three days to make sure things were on an upswing.  Fine, if they want to keep close tabs on us, I am okay with that. I made our appointment for five days. I was going to give him every opportunity. 

I had lunch with my mom, and in that time my intuition kicked into overdrive. I started telling myself that some doctor that was my age was no more qualified to tell me how to raise my child than one of the ladies in church. I decided then, in that restaurant, that I would trust my instincts and go with my gut. I also made sure to make our next appointment with our regular pediatrician, who I love.  He doesn't get worked up about anything, and if I go into the the office and tell him my three year has croup, he believes me.  He even trusts me enough to send me home with an extra prescription for it, and everyone else always makes me come in every time he gets it.  After lunch though, I head home and like a good new mommy, I break out the pump to increase my supply, and I continue to feed on demand.  I am in high demand these days!

So I go back five days later and of course, just as I had guessed, Grant is gaining.  He is still content and happy. I just noticed this morning after I put him in a sleeveless shirt, that his little arms are filling out and becoming chubby.  Which also made me think, I need to take some pictures of this little boy before he changes.  He is only two weeks and four days and he is already growing up.  It feels like this little boy is going to grow up with lightening speed.  I am working really hard to be present with this one and remember all his littleness, but it hit me today that the last 18 days have vanished without having a moment to breath. I am really going to have to work at this. 

That and I have a 3 year and 11 month old on my hands that will all too soon be a four year old. I don't want to lose focus on his growth either. I look forward to the weekend that we are planning in PA going to Dutch Wonderland and focusing on him in all his four year old glory.  However, I look back at the last four years and see them tied up in play dates, running errands, walks to story time, a year of preschool, park fun, time with grandparents and cousins, and I think that it suits us just fine.

I know that both my kids are happy and healthy, and when we all get use to Grant, we will all be well-adjusted once more.  I am going to trust myself and know that what I am doing is right for them. I am doing the best I can, but not without worry. I know that I will second guess myself and whether I can do things differently/better, but to look at these two and think that I have gone wrong somewhere?

Nope, not a chance.

Grant Richard- A Birth Day

Last Thursday started like the previous 20 Thursdays... In a rush to get out the door to preschool.  Once I got back to the house, I got busy rearranging things, doing some laundry, and felt pretty energetic.  It should have been my first clue.  I hadn't felt like moving a muscle in months, and now I felt like I could clean the whole house!

During preschool I started with some contractions that were every five minutes, but not painful.  I didn't think a thing of them because I had been doing that for weeks.  By the time I went to pick up from preschool they had stopped. Good, I had already committed to Grant staying put until the 25th of May so that I wouldn't miss the end of the year preschool happenings.

After preschool, Preston and I went to a local green house and got several hanging baskets to help the back yard look more like Spring. We brought home the flowers, had a picnic on the porch and then he went down for rest time.  He fell asleep, so I took advantage and took a nap myself. 

I woke up around 2:30 and noticed more contractions.  Slightly annoyed because Preston had a T-Ball game that evening, I started getting things together for that.  Never really paid much attention to what my body was telling me.  After two hours of them though I gave them half a thought and sent Brandon a text message.  Not really saying that I was concerned, just more of a, "hey, just thought I should tell someone." It occurred to me at that point though that I may want to put some things in a bag "just in case."

In order to still go to Preston's T-Ball game, I didn't want to alarm anyone. So I grit my teeth and tried to power through each contraction. At the game, I planted my bum in a chair and didn't move. By the end of the hour I was gripping the arms of the chair and holding my breath through each one.  Still not wanting to alarm anyone because I wanted to go get ice cream, I powered through.  When we got home, I insisted that we take a picture, that it might be our last picture as a family of three. I am so glad my husband knows not to argue with me when it comes to pictures.



Holy belly! It is hard to believe now, that he was in there!



On the way home from getting ice cream, I paged my doctor and got his opinion.  He was not concerned- they were only every four minutes, I was only 36 weeks, and I wasn't "huffing and puffing." His words. So then I started to doubt myself.  We went home, and Brandon gave Preston a shower and put him to bed while I changed the sheets on our bed. Just in case Linda came to stay the night.  I said an extra special goodnight to Preston and squeezed him a little tighter. Just in case.

Then because the Doctor had made me doubt myself, and I had never gone into labor on my own before, I called a good friend, and got her opinion.  I still had yet to start timing them, but had gotten to the point that I couldn't carrying on a conversation through one. She started timing them while were were on the phone, every three to four minutes.  She said that it was probably time to go.  So we call Linda, and ask her to come stay with the first born. 

By the time she arrived, I was in serious pain. I mean, serious. I am not the type of person cut out to deliver naturally. I know this about myself, and I have no problem with it.  I also would like to be as comfortable and numb as possible during delivery. So being in the amount of pain that I was in I started to panic internally that we might not make it in time for my beloved epidural. I did NOT want to miss that window.

Once we got to the hospital, Brandon got me as close to the ER door as possible, and I made it to the door, and had to stop for a contraction.  Some fool walked right passed me, while I am gripping a pole next to the door for dear life. He is lucky I couldn't move, I might have smacked him for not helping me.  Couldn't he see that I was in PAIN??? Lucky for me, though as soon as I walked in the door I was plopped in a wheel chair and carted off.  By the SLOWEST wheel chair driver ever, unless we were going over a bump, then it was all Nascar. 

We got in a room pretty quickly and they proceeded to register me.  Then everyone disappeared.  The nurse had promised to be right back with an IV and some pain medicine, and she was going to see how far along I was.  An hour later, she came back, apparently I was not the center of the universe that I had previously thought.  I am glad that everything turned out okay for the other lady though. I can say that now because I know how it turns out. I got my IV and meds, that took some of the edge off, but not nearly enough.  I was 4 centimeters along, so I wanted my epidural. By 12:30, I was in Heaven. I was ready to kick back and sleep the night away.

Then chatty Cathy showed up.  She wanted to tell me her life long story, and become best friends.  I have always been told, be nice to your nurses and they will be nice to you. So I humored her until about 5am. I was too tired to talk anymore.  Words were running together, I was spent. So I did the only thing I could think of, I closed my eyes and pretended to have fallen asleep.  I didn't have to pretend long, but chatty Cathy was persistent.  I have never been so happy for a new nurse.

Once Cathy was relieved of her watch, things really started moving.  I began feeling lots of pressure and I was ready to get the show on the road. My wonderful doctor strode in and said that he slept great and he wanted to know if I was ready to go. He checked me, and said that I was good to go.  The nurse asked me to do a practice push, and immediately told me to stop and wait for my doctor. He finished setting up all his gadgets and came over and I had to go-ahead! I couldn't lift my legs, let alone feel up to my breast bone (just the way I like it) so they put my feet on some stirrups and told me when I was contracting, and I did what I thought might be pushing.  I was nervous that I wasn't pushing at all, just holding my breath.  Next thing I know, Grant was here and screeching.  They instantly laid him on my chest and the world was right. I believe the earth shifted for this baby. I was later told that he had the cord around his neck and leg, but it wasn't long because he needed no assistance breathing. 



He is the proudest big brother, and is so happy to be one!


He is perfect.  The nurses, my OB, and his pediatrician all started making guesses at his weight.  I could have cared less about how much he weighed, I never wanted to let go.  I think that when God gives you a second child, he just knows that it is best to add a second heart as well because I know that my chest grew in that moment. It is amazing how instant you can be taken by someone. He will forever have me. Just like his big brother. I got to snuggle skin to skin and nurse him before anyone else had the opportunity to hold him.  It still causes me to swell to think that is how he started his life with the rest of us.

I couldn't have asked for an easier birth or more perfect little person to join our family. I am working to be totally present with this child. I now know how quickly all can be forgotten and how it flies by at alarming speed. As I type this, I am taken by the thought that tomorrow my baby will be a week old. It scares me to think that in two months my bigger baby will be four! How did that happen? I feel like I just left the hospital with him. I don't want to forget anything that this baby has in store for us, and all that Preston has yet to teach us. I love these boys more than I thought possible, and want nothing but good things for them.



It has to be said- I earned ever hair on that head!



One for the Dad...

Happy Mother's Day to all of those who has been there...  This one is for the Dad though, because without the Dad's where would we be on Mother's Day? Probably doing the normal everyday. 

There would be no one to convince my three year old to snuggle in bed at 6:15am when he came to wake us. I don't know how he did it, but I can never get that kid to crawl in bed and snuggle, even if I make promises of Care Bears.  So we managed to get until close to 7am before he was ready to move. Then Dad took him to make breakfast in bed.  I slide down a little farther in bed, and made attempts at sleep.  My child is just getting into secrets though, and needed to check, double check, and triple check that I would not come out.  I MUST stay in bed.  Got it, I promised to, but he wasn't sure. I am not sure that the child that made me a mother made a bit of my breakfast.  So, thank you Dad. 

Preston's dad also made sure that they were both ready for church on time, while I got to take my time and put on make up!! I am not sure of the last time I had time for makeup... Granted, they played lots of special music in church, and being the large pregnant woman that I currently am, I managed to cry it all off by the time church was over.  Such a nice service for the all the moms! In church, Preston managed to only misbehave a dozen times, and without complaint, Brandon had the many talks, so that I could sit and cry, and listen, and fan myself.  Am I the only one in that sanctuary that feels like it is a sauna??

Then we came home, and Brandon changed their matching outfits (yes, they wore matching to church without my prompting.) We loaded back up and headed out to Brandon's parents for a lunch that was partially made by the dad's. It was SO much food, and I think we ate enough to last us a week.  The Dad's grilled the largest steaks I have ever cared to see.  Even though I didn't eat a thing off the grill, there is something I love about a grilled meal.  It just tastes better. I look forward to this summer and all the grilling Brandon will do. I wish I knew how, we would probably grill every night if I did. 

After lunch, we were thinking about driving up on skyline drive and messing around, see how many contractions that we could make me have. The weather was so cool though that Brandon surprised me with the offer of Target... This is HUGE. The man does NOT like to go shopping. He offered to go look at monitors with me, which was even bigger because he knew that we would spend an arm and leg one.  He even offered to get the movement monitor set up as well, so that I can feel like I am ready for this baby.  Yes, I have two monitors for one child. I am crazy, I know, but I really don't want these kids in our bed, and this helps us both be able to sleep... I dread the day we start worrying about our kids sneaking out because they will be too heavy for the movement monitors then...

Then on the way home Preston falls asleep. Dread sets in, we both wanted naps. Never have we been able to take this sleeping kid out of the car and keep him asleep. It happened though!!! Brandon somehow got him into bed, and took his shoes off, and he stayed asleep!  That makes him a super hero in my book. So we had family nap time.  Naps for adults though I think are different than naps for kids. Kids refuel.  Adults get even more zapped. It had finally warmed up though, so we drug ourselves outside, and Preston picked me flowers in between races with Dad.

After being too full from lunch we scrapped Mother's Day dinner, and had some boxed noodles. They hit the spot though. I may have to remember to get some more. It was a great relaxing day, that I still felt like things were accomplished. We settled in so Preston and I could watch "our show."  The kid loves Amercia's Funniest Home Videos as much as I do.  I do have to sensor some of my laughing though at the people that get hurt.  It isn't as funny to a three year old. Last night he covered his eyes during the man getting a chest wax.

Thank you so much to the Dad though, that made it all possible.  Mother's Day would not be what they are without the dad's that make it happen. Preston has the best Dad a Mom could ask for.

The last 1,398 days this kid has taught me more than I thought it would be possible for one person to do.  He has taught me patience and joy. He has taught me that the heart doesn't explode, but will walk right up to the line of explosion. He has shown me how to panic over a fall, and how to have a calm exterior so he can calm down. He has embarrassed me more times than I can count, and I look forward to when he is old enough for me to return the favor. However, I wouldn't trade a second of his precious life.  I love how he has made me, I am a better person because of him. I know that he will continue to shape me, and I him.  I look forward to it.

Messy days

Children are great imitators. So give them something great to imitate.
~Anonymous

I am starting with a quote today because it suited yesterday. Yesterday was one of those days.  You know the kind, where nothing goes quite as expected and you just want to throw in the towel and start over.  Or hope it ends quickly so you can have a fresh start.  Ours started with this:

Apparently we forgot to said goodbye to Dad.  Being the great guy he is, he drove back by so he could wave bye from the door. Then he and the dog camped out for a while just to be sure he was really going to work. 

Once we (more me than we) I decided to help out dear old Dad with some of the mounting to-do list in the back yard.  I broke out the cans of stain and went to town on the swingset.  I got everywhere I could reach.  The bees were not happy with me.  Preston played quietly while I did this.  That should have been my first hint.  He was too okay with me taking away the swingset for the morning.  Once I came back up to the porch (covered in stain) I realized why.  He was very diligently emptying one of my planters of its dirt. Onto the porch. I needed a shower, so I left it, and got cleaned up. 

In the eyes of a three, almost four year old, I guess if your mom doesn't pay enough attention to your mess, you attempt to bring it to her.  I come out of the shower and find him bring the dirt in. Yep, in the house. So in order to teach him that it is a pain to clean up, I give him the vaccum. I am beginning to feel like I am telling another version of If you Give a Mouse a Cookie.

He thought the vaccum was great fun, and got nowhere with it.  So I took over. He had noticed at this point that I was drained and holding onto my patience by the tips of my toenails. He went out to the porch to make an attempt at sweeping the pile of dirt. he manages to spread it across the porch instead of the pile it was in. Sigh.  I know he is wanting to make it better.

So I get the house cleaned up and head to the porch. I take the broom and wound his pride, causing the new 'tude he has been testing out to emerge.  I had no patience for it. We were both outside telling one another that we weren't happy. I know, productive. Once I get the porch cleaned up, I sit down to catch my breath. He comes in to pee.

Not two minutes later he comes out shoulders shagging telling me he made a mistake. I didn't want to know. I just wanted to be able to go inside, make lunch and put him in his bed for rest time. Poor kid. He had tried to redeem himself by emptying the vaccum canister. our trash can has a swinging lid, and swung all the dirt onto the floor. Deep Breath. Another one.

Needless to say, his lunch was hot cereal and pretzels. Not balanced at all. Kind of like our morning. I was relieved when he was in his bed though.  It meant I got to sit. Which is huge these days.

After rest though, we were given a reprieve and were invited to the park by two sweet little girls, and so we packed some drinks and snacks and hit the road.  We are probably the slowest walkers in Broadway, but after 20 minutes, we made it, and all felt right again. He had a great time with his friends, and I got to have adult conversation.  The morning was swept under the rug and forgotten.

We came home and had dinner, and ended the day like this.

Sunlight streaming, exhausted from our day.