Valentine...

So ...this is my favorite Valentine this year:

I really didn't know you could be more in love with someone.  That's not entirely true.  It was like this with his sister too.  Amazing how somehow through the sleep deprivation and craziness he can still steal my heart.

I'm sure you can see his eyes are goofy in this picture ...it actually made me take a closer look at him and realize that he has esotropia.  So off to the baby eye doctor we went ...we're currently patching his good eye two hours a day and hoping to strengthen the lazy eye ..which is just silly.  I mean honestly.  A seven month old with a pirate patch couldn't be cuter.  He doesn't actually seem to mind ...but he's getting some skin breakdown for it.  The eye doc also picked up an astigmatism ..so we're probably looking at glasses at some point in time.   Good thing I passed on vision insurance for him ...ha!

I moved his crib into our bedroom and attached it to our bed a la giant co-sleeper.  He still thinks his crib mattress is made of nails.  Amazing, really ...he's super sound asleep in our bed ...I slide him six inches over onto his mattress and he wakes up instantly.  I realize this is somehow my fault.  But seriously.  Six inches away??  And are any of you still swaddling a seven month old?   I'm sure this is going nowhere fast ...but the kid won't sleep without being swaddled.  It's so bad that now when I lay him down on his swaddle blanket he tucks his own arms into the sides to get ready to be wrapped up.  I've tried weaning him out of it...but even in it I'm lucky if he sleeps a solid two hours.  Very lucky.  I get mad...and then he does something silly like shake his head no for an hour and a half straight the day he learned how to do it and all of the lack of sleeping is forgotten.

Things have somewhat quieted down on the marriage front ...only because I'm not pushing any issues.  Which isn't good.  I feel like I'm letting things boil under the surface ...and then he does one little thing that any normal level headed person would blow off and I flip my lid.  Because seriously.  I can eat a cheeto in the living room. 

Right?

The flair.

The flair for the dramatic ...that's what I have.

I guess it's not a great idea to post all woe is me my marriage is over on a blog you've ignored for seven months about 20 seconds after the end of a fight.  Because seriously.  I don't think it's over.

I think we're at the point where it can easily go either way.  I see us in the spot where it all goes wrong.  Where we stop loving each other.  Turn other places for much needed attention.  Where it just becomes easier and easier to shut down instead of open up.  And I don't really know how to NOT let that happen when one of us isn't willing to sit down with someone and point out the flaws in our communication so we can make it better. 

We have always been very, very different people.  Different priorities.  Different things that make us happy.  And to some extent, it's worked so far.  I'm having a hard time currently because I feel constantly and totally harrassed.  All the time.  About everything.  The sock on the floor.  The grain of rice on the table.  You name it ...I guarantee I've heard about it.  At least twice.  And honestly?  I want to not hear about it.  I just want some flipping peaceful family time when no one yells or bitches about stuff.

Because I?  Do not sweat the small stuff.   And Monk?  Is diaphoretic over it.  All of it.  Can't let one thing go.   And I don't want my children to be like that.  I don't want them to model their relationships on ours.  That's a sad thing to say ...but it's true. 

My new job ..being the cake walk that it is ....has left me with lots of time to think.  I currently spend my days as a hospitalist.  Taking care of people admitted to the hospital who either do not have a physician or have a physician that doesn't come to the hospital.  You would be amazed by what I see on a daily basis.  On one day last week?  I admitted three people varying in age from 20-50 who came in to the emergency department with some small nagging non-specific complaint and were handed a diagnosis of cancer 2 hours later.  The one girl who told me she felt really silly but was just sort of ...I don't know ..tired?  And maybe a little short of breath?  Had a mass that filled her entire right lung.  She was 22.   And when I deal all day with that?  I want to come home and be incredibly blissfully happy for the good fortune that we have right now.  Because I know that chances are? It is not the good fortune that we will always have.  Those big lung encompassing tumors happen to everyone.  No one gets spared.  Not if you say your prayers at night.  Not if you help old ladies across the street.  They happen to us all.  I don't want to waste one minute when that crap actually ISN'T happening fighting about how someone left a blanket unfolded, a cupboard open, or a smudge of food on the fridge.  Because you know what?  We have blankets.  And cupboards.  And a fridge.  With food in it.  And right now? That should be enough to make us happy.  And if the other stuff bothers you ....fold the blanket.  Close the cupboard.  Wipe the fridge.  Teach the kids about that stuff along the way.  Don't ruin my night, your night, and our children's night by yelling at everyone for two hours.

I don't know how to see eye to eye on this.  I just know that I won't sacrifice peace and gratitude.  We're not here long enough.

Seven Months?

Seriously.  Seven months?  I have a seven month old?  It's sooo strange.  And wonderful. 

To say that I'm a bad blogger is a disservice to bad bloggers.  Because really?  I've not been a blogger at all for the past ...oh ...7 months.  Life here got crazy ...and is just now settling down.   I switched jobs.  Went back to the hospital.  Punch a clock.  Work no overtime.  Make more money.  Work much less hard.  Have no work stress.  Have much less work satisfaction but a lot more mommy satisfaction.  Monk is still not working ....off work from the broken back until March.  Not sure how well it will go when he does go back.  The only good part of that is that he's been home with the baby the whole time.  Not as good as mom being home....but closer than any other option we would have had.

I've struggled with pumping and milk supply since the end of maternity leave ...we're still holding our own without supplementing.  But I'm decidedly not someone that should give advice on how to pump well.  Unless you want advice on how to take drugs to make you produce more milk ....because alas ...we've tried them all. 

Baby A2 is unabashedly wonderful.  His kidney is still huge...but still not causing any problems to speak of.  He's laughing hysterically now.  He loves giving wide open mouth kisses.  My heart melts every time he smiles and reaches for me.  Loving him has been the easiest thing I have ever done.  There's really nothing about parenting him that I find stressful {other than milk supply}.  He doesn't sleep.  Like ...ever.  I've toyed with the idea of sleep training but know that I don't have the heart for it.  And honestly ....the best thing about having 14 years between children is knowing how short this phase really is.  I can cuddle and nurse him through the not sleeping for this short while.  The world won't end.  I'll survive on less sleep.  It is unbelievably amazing to me how healing this little man has been for me.  For my soul.  I think I had myself half way convinced that I would have been okay without a baby.  That I didn't really need one.  That I was somehow faking the ache for one.  And then he came.  And I'm better.  All the way better.   I don't know that I'll ever be able to describe it.

And so I've struggled with blogging...because I'm not really a mommy blogger.  I read lots of mommy bloggers ..find them fascinating even ..but it's not me.  And I can't come to this space day after day and gloat about how wonderful getting to the other side of the infertility hell zone is.   I think of things I want to post often ...write ...and never hit publish.  I don't know why.

I came here tonight after a fight with Monk.  The marriage?  Is struggling.  Badly.  And I don't know how to fix it.  There are no major issues.  No cheating.  No lack of money.  No infidelity.  No abuse.  There's just no connection anymore.  I've requested ...demanded ...counseling.  And he said no. 

I found myself again in this baby.  Our baby.  I've lost my marriage.  And found myself here.  So maybe I'll start blogging again.  Maybe.

The last four weeks

Or: "Why I suck at blogging, in bullets"

Although I have about six really excellent posts half written, life seems to be getting in the way of well...just about everything. My life is nothing short of a joke, lately, people. Seriously. A joke. A few of the occurrences that have kept me from the computer:

• First and foremost, a beautiful, wonderful baby. We had a rough few weeks but now that we passed the six week growth spurt life is back to easy with him. Except that he no longer sleeps. Like Ever. As in, our longest stretch without sleep was 17 hours without even closing his eyes for a five minute nap. I nearly poked my own eyes out. Except that it's hard to poke your eyes out with a 2 month old smiling lovingly at you.


• I developed a very lovely incisional infection EIGHT WEEKS post partum. Eight Weeks. Seriously. Oral antibiotics didn't work. I'm allergic to the 2 classes that would actually work. So ..my options were 1) take an oral that I was allergic to 2) be hospitalized for IV antibiotics 3) attempt IV antibiotics at home. I opted to try the one I was allergic to and broke out in a huge rash about an hour after I took the first pill. Because of the item directly below, hospitalization and/or having an arm out of commission for an IV was out of the question. So I'm currently treating the infection with a peroxide wash and hoping for the best. As in ...hoping I don't end up in the ICU septic or something. It seems to be holding it's own right now.


• Monk fell off a roof at work and broke his back in two places. The good news is that he's alive, can walk, and has control of all of his own bodily functions. The bad news is that he 1) can't work 2) can't do anything else. He's in a brace that limits movement, has a 5 pound weight lifting restriction, and can't bend or twist ever. If you're particularly astute, you'll note that my brand new baby weighs 13 pounds (because he's a moose). So ..I now have 2 babies. I felt less like a single mom when I was a single mom. Honestly. To say that it's overwhelming to have him out of the running for helping with anything - a single diaper change or nighttime waking - is a tremendous understatement. To describe the stress of your husband asking you to tie his shoes while you're nursing a baby and trying to online shop for a teenager's birthday? Umm...I don't think I can. These restrictions are in effect for a minimum of 12 weeks. The baby will be nearly 6 months old before his dad can hold him again.


• I picked the baby up out of the crib about a week after Monk broke his back. It hurt. A lot. In the morning I quite literally couldn't sit, stand, or walk because of the unbelievable pain in my back. My mom had to come and rescue me. She literally held the weight of the baby so that I could nurse him. It was awful. I finally made my way to the MRI machine to discover that I herniated a disc, tore 2 others, and pinched a major nerve. Umm. If you want to think about stress? Think about the fact that now the only one in my family that can tie their own shoes is my now 14 year old.


• The dog - who has severe hip dysplasia - somehow managed to fracture her left elbow. She requires not 1, but 3 surgeries, at $2500/pop. And she can't walk. She needs to be carried in and out of the house to use the bathroom. See above for the family members that can safely do that.


• This is my last week of maternity leave. Can't. even. think. about. that.


• Prior to Monk's injury, I didn't know how to turn on the vacuum or where we kept the garbage bags. For reals. He does that much around the house. He did, I should say. Because his name is MONK, he still expects the house to be in that very neat and hyperclean orderly state. We've had many issues because umm...I'm not the type to vacuum while holding and nursing a new baby with a herniated disc in my back. He is, surprisingly to me, not understanding that.


• The golden child starts high school one week from tomorrow.

Normally? Any one of the above items would throw me for a loop. Currently? I'm getting very close to requesting an in patient psych admission. I'm a wreck. When I'm no longer a wreck? I'll get back to posting my happy posts about all things nursing, pumping 101, and the beauty of a good photographer.

Until then? I'll try and keep my focus on the little man on top. He is my angel. Seriously. I think he's the cutest thing ever.

Birth Story ..part two

Mostly because I want to be able to remember all of the little details....

Sorry it has taken so long ...we've landed ourselves smack dab in the middle of a growth spurt ...and the baby feels like he's dying if he doesn't nurse every 45 minutes or so. Umm...I'm thankful for the increase in milk supply ...but geez.

After the NICU team was done with their assessment, Monk brought the baby over to me. The CRNA did an outstanding job taking pictures for us. She helped Monk to lay the baby on my chest while they were putting my parts back in and sewing me up. That was something that never happened with the golden child and I was so happy to be able to cuddle him that soon after birth. Eventually, Monk and the baby went into the recovery room and they moved me over to a bed and wheeled me into the recovery room with them. The NICU team asked that they wait to bathe the baby for 12 hours to give him more time to transition. One of my biggest "I don't want to do that" moments was over remembering the shaking chills after the golden child's section. They have a fancy new Bair Hugger gown that they had me wear and hooked the gown up to a hot air blower ...and I never got the chills. It was rather delightful.

Remember when I said that spinal anesthesia with duramorph was the best thing ever? It truly was. But it was also like ..almost the worst thing. The CRNA came in to check on me and told me that I might get some nausea and facial itching from the duramorph ...and that if I did I should ask for meds sooner rather than later. Ha! I felt great for quite a while ...I nursed the baby. He latched on like he was a 6 month old ..nursed on both sides for 15 minutes. I was rather amazed. Monk left the room to go tell the 30 or so family members about the baby and to let my mom and the golden child come back. The golden child was appropriately amazed and awed. The picture above is her first glimpse at her brother.

My mom and daughter left to allow Monk's parents to come back ...still felt great but maybe a little itch on my nose?? They left and Monk's sister and my niece came back. During the transition I started to feel really nauseated. They left, and the nurse decided to roll me side to side and change me into a regular gown to go back to my room in. Turned left ...no problem. Turned right ...and started puking like a mad woman. I must have thrown up/dry heaved 27 times ..each time feeling like staples were popping out. The nurse finally pushed some zofran and things calmed down. By the time I got back to my room, my face was full on ITCHING. I don't mean like ...a little scratch here and there. There was no rash ..but I swear to God I tried to rip the skin off my face. Monk was freaking out ...I couldn't stop rubbing, pulling, scratching my face for anything. And then, thankfully, I had the best RN I've ever encountered on the patient side of life. She came in and said that she knew I was an NP and had privileges at the hospital but that she was going to pretend like I didn't know anything and tell me everything anyway. She noticed that I was trying to peel my face off and told me that she was going to get some Nubain to make it go away. I told her I didn't want it - that it would make me sleepy and wasn't worth it. She essentially said too bad and went to get it. I demanded that she only give me half the dose. She said no ..and gave me the full dose anyway. I did get sleepy ..but the damn itching went away. And I have to say ....I think that took a lot of guts on her part. I don't know if I would have had the guts to do something like that - but it was exactly what I needed. She really was wonderful. Monk is still amazed by her. Because I was still paralyzed from the waste down, she taught Monk how to change the baby's diaper when he had his first meconium yuck. She was very patient with him. My mom and the golden child came into the room ...I nearly passed out from the Nubain ...Monk went to get some food ...and my mom held the baby while I slept. Eventually she took the golden child home and we were alone with the baby for the first time. It was all very surreal. He {the baby} moaned almost the entire first night with every exhale. I don't think we slept for 3 seconds because we were so worried.

At 4 am they got me up, took out my catheter, helped me to clean the betadine off all the parts that needed to be cleaned. I walked the halls (umm...9 hours after birth!) pain free and had very little bleeding. My only complaint - albeit a huge one - is that the air conditioning in the hospital wasn't working and my room was literally 82 degrees. It was beyond miserable. I was sweating from birth changes anyway ...and I spent most of the time we were there totally drenched. It was so so so so freaking hot.

The morning after the birth, the baby went for his kidney ultrasound ...kidney was still very enlarged. He peed a ton right after delivery ...but then hardly at all after that ...like twice a day. So I was freaking out about that.

The pediatrician came in and explained the process for the kidney work up. He would need to be on antibiotics and repeat the ultrasound in 2 weeks. They came in for the circumcision. Monk is still mad ..because every time someone would come in and say, "You want to have the baby circumcised?" I would say "SOMEONE in this room does ...but not me!". The friend/OB had 4 deliveries the morning that I was going to be discharged so her partner came in. I had never met him before ...and he was rather funny. He asked what I was going to do for birth control. I explained the whole, "I have PCOS and a history of multiple miscarriages and blood clots ...I can't take the pill" thing. I asked if I could start taking Metformin again. He said, "I'd start taking it right away ..wait 4 weeks then start having sex all the time and have another baby right away. Your body will be ready." I laughed ...thinking he was joking. The friend/OB came in later ...and he was apparently serious. He wants everyone to have 90 kids. Has 11 himself. Doesn't do any sterilization procedures. Hmm. Rather interesting! He ended up doing the baby's circumcision. I didn't realize that they slept for like ..8 hours afterwards because they were so traumatized. I'm still mad that we did it...even though everything turned out fine.

I did end up getting a little bit sore on the second day...but still never needed anything more than Motrin. The crazy stupid pelvic pain went away the second they took the baby out. I felt like I could run a marathon being pain free felt so good. The friend/OB wanted me to stay one more night ...but I couldn't deal with the temperature in the room so she let us go home. A little more than 36 hours after birth, we were all at home and cozied up together on the couch.

Blissful.

Still Home

The Birth Story - Part Two. Will be coming soon. I promise. But first? A quickie type update.

So apparently having a new baby hasn't improved my blogging skills at all. I keep meaning to post ...and then I realize that I can't actually nurse and type at the same time ..and well...someone is always hungry so he wins. Life has actually been very, very good. I feel drunk on love. The oxytocin/prolactin/breastfeeding love drug is working it's wonders in ways I didn't even remember were possible. I feel all cuddly and lovey dovey towards nearly everyone. It's the part of me that has been missing for ...well ...years...the part that I couldn't figure out where it went or why it was gone. I'm more than happy to spend my nights with everyone right on top of me all in the same chair ...and I've devoted hours to bitching about that on this blog in the past several months. It's really been rather lovely to find this part of myself again. Very healing. I could wax poetic about it for years, really. I'm just desperate for it to not end. I've even told Monk that maybe we should have like 14 more children to make sure it doesn't go away.

I ended up with a nasty incisional infection that made me feel like I was dying for several days. By the time I dragged myself into the OB I was nearly delirious. I felt much better after 3 days of antibiotics. The baby has had an appointment literally every day between weight checks, kidney ultrasounds, jaundice checks, etc. It's really all I can do to leave the house by 11:30 a.m. ...which bodes well for going back to work. The baby had a nasty kidney test today that broke my heart ...the results of which will tell us if he's basically okay or if he has to have surgery. The strangest thing is that I'm not really all that nervous about it. He is soooo much easier to care for on the outside than he was on the inside. So much. He nurses like an expert and typically sleeps almost through the night - usually waking just once to nurse and goes right back to sleep. He's easily soothed, doesn't spit up, has no real elimination of body substances issues, and really only cries for good reason. I've had no nipple soreness or issues even though he nurses like 12 times a day. Life is so much better now that my anxiety is mostly gone. I didn't even realize how paralyzing it was until it wasn't there anymore. Physically ...I feel so much better. The absence of pelvic pain and being able to walk again alone makes me feel like a new woman. The golden child has been absolutely wonderful ...she is at least as in love with her brother as I am. This whole process has been so much easier because of her help . . . she's always willing to hold/cuddle/run for objects/allow me to shower and look human.

My weight is down 33 pounds ..and I only gained 13 during the pregnancy. I'm super psyched about that. I know a lot of it is fluid and the dreaded swelling finally resolving. ...but it does tell me how lovely life would be without PCOS. What to do to keep that under control?

The baby rolled over several times tonight ...from belly to back ..which um...is WAY early and terrifies me for what is to come! I had to take video because my own mother didn't believe me.

The new king of our household is stirring ....more tomorrow ( I hope!)

Home

The Birth Story - Part One

I don't know if anything in my life ...anything ... has felt better than pulling into my driveway last night with my family. My entire family. All of us alive and breathing independently. The symbolism of seeing the white picket fence surround my yard as we pulled in did not escape my very hormonal self. Home. Safe. Healthy. All four of us. I think I'm still in shock.

I never stopped contracting after the amnio. They slowed down to seven minutes apart but kept increasing in intensity. On Wednesday morning I had a mini-meltdown because I was exhausted and the fear of going into a c-section that tired was terrifying. I hadn't slept since Saturday night. Around 7 or 8 I managed to develop crazy wretched diarrhea - which includes a story so flipping disgusting and funny that it deserves it's own post - and thought ..umm.... uh-oh. My blood sugars had dropped significantly. Even without any insulin at all, my after breakfast reading was 78. And I thought ..ummm..not good. Because the only reason for that to happen would be a sudden drop in hormones - so I'm either in labor for real, or there is something wrong. For some reason, I proceeded to run errands! Went grocery shopping for our "last meal", went and picked up some meds at the vet's office, stopped at the office for a second, and went to the pharmacy for Monk's medicine. On the way home, I timed the contractions and realized I was back to 4 minutes apart. I got really dizzy and lightheaded, called Monk, and we went to the hospital for the NST and BPP. Contractions continued to worsen. The NST was actually fine. The Biophysical profile looked a little worse ...the score went from 6 to 5. She measured him and thought he was probably 8 lbs 8 ounces which made me feel a LOT better. No attempts at breathing. Very little movement. We had a lot of "do you want to wait" and "I'm scared as shit about stillbirth" conversations. She knew this - because we talked about it endlessly at every visit. It was the reason for the frequent NST's, the hyper-management of blood sugars ..everything. She thought I had OCD about it and needed to relax for most of the pregnancy. The OB/friend decided to do the section that day. I, of course, had eaten lunch trying to improve the NST and BPP so she scheduled the section for as soon as possible after anesthesia cleared me. Anesthesia agreed to 7 pm. We called and told family. Contractions promptly became excruciating and 2 minutes apart. I thought ..Hmm. Maybe I should just Vbac?? I really didn't want a section and things seemed to be moving along swimmingly well. The OB came into the room to chat about the possibility ...and the baby promptly had some late decelerations. They decided to take him right then. The NICU team was called in for the delivery. They warned me that he might need to go to the NICU because of the kidney and immature lungs. I watched the isolette roll into the delivery room and started to panic.

Can I just say that spinal anesthesia with duramorph is the best invention EVER? Never hurt going in and I literally never felt a thing throughout the section. Nothing. No pressure, no pain. It couldn't have been more different than the golden child's section. I was amazed all the way through. I did, however, lose my blood pressure right after the medicine went in and that was less than comfortable. Someone asked if I was okay ...I couldn't talk ...looked at the monitor and saw 60/22 as my blood pressure. I started to pass out and throw up. I had a very real but fleeting thought that I was dying ...then the reversing meds started to work and my blood pressure came back.

Monk did amazing throughout the entire thing. He was nervous before the section ...tearful at times. Took xanax. Thought about maybe taking three. But in the room? He was extremely calm and reassuring. Even stood up to look when they pulled out the baby. He started crying immediately. Screaming, in fact. My OB/friend pulled him out and said, "He's beautiful, Shauna. He's healthy." Monk and I started crying. She handed the baby to the NICU team. I said, "How are his eyes??" which was supposed to be our code for "does he have Down's?" She said, "I didn't look that close!!" The anesthesiologist asked what was going on ...I told her ..she took our camera and went to take a picture of the baby's face and brought it back to me. He was fine. Absolutely fine. I kept telling the OB/friend that I loved her because I couldn't imagine a more comfortable birth.

All of a sudden the OB/friend said, "Ohmygod, Shauna. Ohmygod...this was the problem." And she held the umbilical cord up for me to see. It had the largest, tightest, true knot that I could ever possibly imagine. Ever. If my water had broken or if I had attempted a VBAC? The baby would have died. The months of early contractions? Likely due to his distress and not getting enough oxygen and nutrients. Even now, I can't stop thinking about what might have been. What easily could have been. It's overwhelming.

Continued tomorrow . . .