I knew when I had babies that my life would change. I knew that I'd have to start watching what I said and how I acted. I knew there would be less time for hanging out and drinking with friends and more time at home with the aforementioned offspring. I even knew I'd be spending more time reading "Brown Bear, Brown Bear" and "Goodnight Moon" (though my toddler has shocked me by how MUCH time I spend reading those books...over and over and over). I didn't realize that my affinity for Dean Koontz and Stephen King would be dampened or that my love for horror movies would diminish. And that I would find myself not only NOT craving the blood, guts, gore and violence from my pre-baby reading but instead spending time reading inspirational stories.
So today I read "Heaven is for Real." If you haven't heard of it here's a link Heaven is for Real. I've seen it on the shelves at Walmart. Dunno if its cheaper there. Its a short read, so you might be better off picking it up at the library if you're a fast reader like me. I read it in less than four hours.
Some people would classify this as a "religious" book but I didn't really see it as such. I think I cried at least five times. Yes. Five. And yes, it talks about Jesus and Heaven and Christianity quite a bit. But I didn't really feel like it was a religious book. As my mom said "There's a difference between being religious and being spiritual." And that's true. But it wasn't the Jesus parts that really touched me. It was the parenting parts. Of course, parenting has a lot to do with God I think.
I am so often overwhelmed by how unworthy I am of being a parent. Not because I occasionally raise my voice or lose my temper. But because children are such wonderful, amazing little blessings. Even all poop-filled and vomit-covered and screaming at 4 a.m. Of course those are the times when it is the hardest to remember how much of a blessing they are. And those are the times that I pray the hardest to please please please help me be a good mom. Give me the strength to be as good of mom as my babies deserve. Even at just 19 months, Evie, who is well into her terrible twos, can do some of the most selfless and endearing things. She wants to give her Sissy kisses every morning and one day when I was upset and crying Evie pulled me down into the floor to hug me and pat my back and give me kisses.
I've said since Evie was born that I didn't see how anyone with kids could NOT believe in God. Or some sort of higher power. Babies are the most miraculous things in the world. Watching them grow up and learn to walk and talk and love is just amazing. Proof that God is here.
And now that I've experienced a couple of years worth of baby raising, I just find that I don't get as into the violence and horror as I did before. Now it makes me worry. So instead of reading scary books, I find myself reading books about little boys who go to Heaven and gain a tremendous amount of religious insight at the ripe old age of four.
I know it sounds hokey but not only did this book make me cry, it gave me chills. Its funny the ways you change when you go from just "me" to "Mom." I never would have imagined I could tell you all the lines of "But Not the Hippopotamus." But I can. And I absolutely LOVED this book.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Back from..."vacation"...Part 2
Elly was an 8 lb 1 oz cherub with a full head of hair. She ate great. Slept great. Wonderful baby. That is while we were in the hospital. We got home and she didn't want to do anything but sleep. Which would be great except newborn babies HAVE to eat. Especially when they are jaundiced. Which she was. We ended up going back to the doctor and the hospital four times to have her jaundice rechecked. We were having to wake her up every three hours, night and day, to eat. And if she spat up we were supposed to feed her again.
The jaundice finally started to clear up but for some reason she was still sleeping through meals and wasn't gaining weight. At about a week old she started to have a bit of a cough and sneeze. Newborns can have that for no reason so I didn't think much of it. At about 10 days old the cough was worse but still no fever. At 11 days I called the doctor's office and was instructed to run humidifiers, use saline drops and clear her nose out and to elevate her when she was sleeping to help with that. I was already doing all that. The next morning was a Saturday and the cough had gotten so bad that Elly couldn't keep food down and her breathing seemed labored. The doctor's office told me to take her to the emergency room and have them check her out.
The hospital did a chest X-Ray, drew blood, and tested for the flu and RSV. Elly tested positive for RSV and was admitted. I was incredibly disappointed with the care she received but that's a rant for another blog. The pediatric doctors there will never be treating any of my children again. Let me assure you!
Elly spent four days in the hospital. Three of those were spent on oxygen. When they first put her on oxygen I honestly thought my baby was going to die. I was so terrified. I couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep. Was afraid to put her down or take my eyes off of her. I took dozens of pictures afraid that I wouldn't have the opportunity much longer. I'm sure it sounds crazy. But my 12 day old infant was in the hospital on oxygen and monitors and couldn't breathe. And no one would tell me whether or not she was going to die. It was horrible.
To make it worse poor little Evie didn't understand why she had been shipped off to live with her grandparents. I didn't get to see her for days. And by the fourth day she was so stressed out that she wouldn't eat or talk or play. Just sat in the floor sucking on her paci (which she doesn't normally have except naps and at night) and watching television. I have never been so torn. Wanting to go home to be with my toddler and stay at the hospital with my infant. It was horrible. Finally we were cleared to leave. Elly was doing okay on room air and we were discharged.
Elly had been spitting up all day and Evie had been throwing up the day before. But we thought it was just stress for Evie and spitting up wasn't surprising for Elly since she still had an awful cough. I got home and barely pulled in the driveway before I was throwing open the door to puke in the yard. Got inside and spent several hours in the bathroom. The worst stomach bug of my life. Thank God Josh was home because I was incapable of doing anything but sleep and be sick for the next 12 hours. I lost five pounds overnight. Elly was still throwing up. My mom, who had been keeping Evie, also spent that night sick as a dog. It was horrible. I wasn't able to eat much for the next couple of days. And Elly, while not throwing up everything she ate, was still sleeping way too much. And from the RSV and the stomach bug still hadn't gained back her birth weight.
I was terrified about Elly's two-week check up a few days after we were released from the hospital. I knew that babies were supposed to be back up to birth weight and then some by two weeks. I was afraid I wasn't doing enough (though I felt like waking Elly up every three hours to eat and making her eat as much as I could was about all I could do). I was afraid they were going to question my parenting and tell me I wasn't doing it right.
Although not up to birth weight Elly was very close. The pediatrician didn't say I was doing a poor job. Quite the contrary, she applauded the fact that Elly had gained weight despite her illnesses. She thought she looked great and was growing well. Told me to keep up the good work and that they'd see me back in about 2 weeks for her one-month check. I beamed.
In addition to a good report on Elly, Evie did wonderfully at her check-up. Handled the one shot fairly well. And we all went home happy and without picking up anything from the waiting room. Always an accomplishment with two little ones during flu season.
Two weeks later Elly weighed nearly 10 lbs. She was still not sleeping at night well and still spitting up a lot more than the "normal" amount. (In case you didn't know, all babies spit up. Its just part of having a baby. If you don't have kids but plan to, prepare yourself now. Its disgusting. It smells bad. I mean, its vomit. And it creates an outrageous amount of laundry in the best of circumstances.) Elly was diagnosed as "colicky." UGH. The nightly fussing, the squirming, etc. It was probably colic. And since we had already tried several different milk-based formulas, including the "sensitive" ones, without any change we were told to try soy. Hopefully it would help with both the spitting up and the colic.
It has. Though Elly is still not a good sleeper. I've discovered she really really hates to be alone. She wants to be held or at least near me at all times. She is the complete opposite of her older sister in so many ways. She's very affectionate and loving. Laid back. One could use the adjective "lazy" in fact. I've found ways to cope with her serious snuggle obsession. Sleeping on the couch for part of the night with her snoozing on my chest is pretty common. She'll probably never be one of those "cry it out" babies. We've all kind of gotten used to life with two babies. The juggling is easier. I can do bath nights all by myself without feeling like I'm completely overwhelmed. Though of course, tonight is my first night doing bath night after a day at work. So my opinion may changed. haha. I know the older they get the easier taking care of them both will get and I just look forward to a few months from now when Elly can at least sit up and all. Hopefully she'll be eating solids by then and maybe even sleeping some at night. Who knows!
You might be wondering how everything is going between the two girls? Evie loves "Sissy." Elly will probably not know that her name is actually Elly until she starts school. Since we pretty much call her Sissy. Evie doesn't even try to say Elly. Just Sissy. She loves to give Sissy kisses in the morning. And Elly absolutely beams when Evie comes up to her. I don't know why. Since frequently Evie pulls her toes and pokes her eyes. Not with any malice, just that an 18 month old doesn't really understand that others feel pain. And of course she doesn't realize that she's inflicting pain. Just trying to give Sissy her paci or examining Sissy's tiny feet. Evie has hit Elly a couple of times. Always after I've told her to stop touching Sissy or something. Just the oh-so-wonderful terrible twos coming out. Evie goes straight to time out and cries when I tell her that she hurt Sissy. All in all I think it has gone well. I can't wait til they're able to play and do things together. It will be awesome!
The last 6 weeks have been rough. Really really rough at times. I admit to wondering how in the hell I thought I could handle two kids. Although I fervently love both of my girls, I admit that over the last month and a half there have been moments when I didn't like either of them very much. I admit to occasionally losing my temper and yelling. I have asked them both to shut up (before Elly's birth I cringed at "shut up" because it is very mean! Same for the word stupid and I've used that a lot as well :-( ). I've cussed. A lot. I admit to harboring a lot of anger towards my husband some days and even more nights while I've dealt with both of our children all by myself. I've felt like the worst mom in the world a lot of times.
I've told myself that it wouldn't have been as bad as it was if we hadn't spent so much of the first 3 weeks sick and in the hospital and running back and forth to the doctor and the hospital. I tell myself we all would have handled it better and been happier then. And that I wouldn't have yelled at my babies.
The jaundice finally started to clear up but for some reason she was still sleeping through meals and wasn't gaining weight. At about a week old she started to have a bit of a cough and sneeze. Newborns can have that for no reason so I didn't think much of it. At about 10 days old the cough was worse but still no fever. At 11 days I called the doctor's office and was instructed to run humidifiers, use saline drops and clear her nose out and to elevate her when she was sleeping to help with that. I was already doing all that. The next morning was a Saturday and the cough had gotten so bad that Elly couldn't keep food down and her breathing seemed labored. The doctor's office told me to take her to the emergency room and have them check her out.
The hospital did a chest X-Ray, drew blood, and tested for the flu and RSV. Elly tested positive for RSV and was admitted. I was incredibly disappointed with the care she received but that's a rant for another blog. The pediatric doctors there will never be treating any of my children again. Let me assure you!
Elly spent four days in the hospital. Three of those were spent on oxygen. When they first put her on oxygen I honestly thought my baby was going to die. I was so terrified. I couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep. Was afraid to put her down or take my eyes off of her. I took dozens of pictures afraid that I wouldn't have the opportunity much longer. I'm sure it sounds crazy. But my 12 day old infant was in the hospital on oxygen and monitors and couldn't breathe. And no one would tell me whether or not she was going to die. It was horrible.
To make it worse poor little Evie didn't understand why she had been shipped off to live with her grandparents. I didn't get to see her for days. And by the fourth day she was so stressed out that she wouldn't eat or talk or play. Just sat in the floor sucking on her paci (which she doesn't normally have except naps and at night) and watching television. I have never been so torn. Wanting to go home to be with my toddler and stay at the hospital with my infant. It was horrible. Finally we were cleared to leave. Elly was doing okay on room air and we were discharged.
Elly had been spitting up all day and Evie had been throwing up the day before. But we thought it was just stress for Evie and spitting up wasn't surprising for Elly since she still had an awful cough. I got home and barely pulled in the driveway before I was throwing open the door to puke in the yard. Got inside and spent several hours in the bathroom. The worst stomach bug of my life. Thank God Josh was home because I was incapable of doing anything but sleep and be sick for the next 12 hours. I lost five pounds overnight. Elly was still throwing up. My mom, who had been keeping Evie, also spent that night sick as a dog. It was horrible. I wasn't able to eat much for the next couple of days. And Elly, while not throwing up everything she ate, was still sleeping way too much. And from the RSV and the stomach bug still hadn't gained back her birth weight.
I was terrified about Elly's two-week check up a few days after we were released from the hospital. I knew that babies were supposed to be back up to birth weight and then some by two weeks. I was afraid I wasn't doing enough (though I felt like waking Elly up every three hours to eat and making her eat as much as I could was about all I could do). I was afraid they were going to question my parenting and tell me I wasn't doing it right.
Although not up to birth weight Elly was very close. The pediatrician didn't say I was doing a poor job. Quite the contrary, she applauded the fact that Elly had gained weight despite her illnesses. She thought she looked great and was growing well. Told me to keep up the good work and that they'd see me back in about 2 weeks for her one-month check. I beamed.
In addition to a good report on Elly, Evie did wonderfully at her check-up. Handled the one shot fairly well. And we all went home happy and without picking up anything from the waiting room. Always an accomplishment with two little ones during flu season.
Two weeks later Elly weighed nearly 10 lbs. She was still not sleeping at night well and still spitting up a lot more than the "normal" amount. (In case you didn't know, all babies spit up. Its just part of having a baby. If you don't have kids but plan to, prepare yourself now. Its disgusting. It smells bad. I mean, its vomit. And it creates an outrageous amount of laundry in the best of circumstances.) Elly was diagnosed as "colicky." UGH. The nightly fussing, the squirming, etc. It was probably colic. And since we had already tried several different milk-based formulas, including the "sensitive" ones, without any change we were told to try soy. Hopefully it would help with both the spitting up and the colic.
It has. Though Elly is still not a good sleeper. I've discovered she really really hates to be alone. She wants to be held or at least near me at all times. She is the complete opposite of her older sister in so many ways. She's very affectionate and loving. Laid back. One could use the adjective "lazy" in fact. I've found ways to cope with her serious snuggle obsession. Sleeping on the couch for part of the night with her snoozing on my chest is pretty common. She'll probably never be one of those "cry it out" babies. We've all kind of gotten used to life with two babies. The juggling is easier. I can do bath nights all by myself without feeling like I'm completely overwhelmed. Though of course, tonight is my first night doing bath night after a day at work. So my opinion may changed. haha. I know the older they get the easier taking care of them both will get and I just look forward to a few months from now when Elly can at least sit up and all. Hopefully she'll be eating solids by then and maybe even sleeping some at night. Who knows!
You might be wondering how everything is going between the two girls? Evie loves "Sissy." Elly will probably not know that her name is actually Elly until she starts school. Since we pretty much call her Sissy. Evie doesn't even try to say Elly. Just Sissy. She loves to give Sissy kisses in the morning. And Elly absolutely beams when Evie comes up to her. I don't know why. Since frequently Evie pulls her toes and pokes her eyes. Not with any malice, just that an 18 month old doesn't really understand that others feel pain. And of course she doesn't realize that she's inflicting pain. Just trying to give Sissy her paci or examining Sissy's tiny feet. Evie has hit Elly a couple of times. Always after I've told her to stop touching Sissy or something. Just the oh-so-wonderful terrible twos coming out. Evie goes straight to time out and cries when I tell her that she hurt Sissy. All in all I think it has gone well. I can't wait til they're able to play and do things together. It will be awesome!
The last 6 weeks have been rough. Really really rough at times. I admit to wondering how in the hell I thought I could handle two kids. Although I fervently love both of my girls, I admit that over the last month and a half there have been moments when I didn't like either of them very much. I admit to occasionally losing my temper and yelling. I have asked them both to shut up (before Elly's birth I cringed at "shut up" because it is very mean! Same for the word stupid and I've used that a lot as well :-( ). I've cussed. A lot. I admit to harboring a lot of anger towards my husband some days and even more nights while I've dealt with both of our children all by myself. I've felt like the worst mom in the world a lot of times.
I've told myself that it wouldn't have been as bad as it was if we hadn't spent so much of the first 3 weeks sick and in the hospital and running back and forth to the doctor and the hospital. I tell myself we all would have handled it better and been happier then. And that I wouldn't have yelled at my babies.
Back from..."vacation"...
So I've been gone for awhile...out enjoying my maternity leave I suppose. If enjoy is even a word that can be applied. Honestly, its not. Not in relation to the whole 6 week period. The last couple of weeks were alright. But I'm going to be very honest and admit that the first month pretty much stank.
Let me catch you up on what all has transpired since my last in-depth post. I went to the hospital at oh-dark-thirty on February 7th to have a baby. I had a good breakfast before I went (something I didn't do and really regretted the first time) and had gotten a good night's sleep. I was rested, well-fed and fully expected to have Elly in my arms by supper time.
Those hopes were quickly dashed.
By lunch the doctor was talking about sending me home and having me come back in a week or two for a c-section. Despite having good, strong and regular contractions for several hours the baby had moved up, not down and I was not dilating. I cried. I was taken off the pitocin and told to walk the halls for 30 minutes to an hour and see what happened. My nurse really pissed me off by saying maybe it was best for me to go home. Maybe the baby just wasn't ready. (in hindsight, waiting a couple of weeks probably would have made a lot of things much easier. But hindsight does tend to show things in a different light) At the time, I was furious. All I could think was how disappointed I would be. And the fact that I had already taken my maternity leave from work and that they not only wouldn't let me come back and work until I had the baby, I couldn't even take any additional time because I had taken all that was available already.
So I cried some more. And prayed. And walked the halls. And cried a little more. Posted very depressed Facebook status messages. About an hour later I was put back on pitocin and my doctor called to talk to me. He explained that if I didn't progress he was worried that the baby was already too big and it wouldn't be safe to try and deliver her. He wanted me to be prepared to go home still pregnant. He said he'd see me after 5 and wished me luck.
When the doctor came to check me he deemed me worthy to proceed with labor. And shocked me by breaking my water and telling me he would be back to deliver the baby. Of course I think I was only at like a 2 at that point.
So labor progressed. I got to experience back labor. Which I was spared with my first labor. And couldn't believe anyone had survived without an epidural. I was told that I was handling the pain with a lot of grace and aplomb.Which I felt like I was being a wuss...and in wuss fashion requested my epidural. Quickly.
Labor continued to progress. Slowly.
Around 1 a.m. the nurse came in and I told her that I was feeling a lot of pressure and kind of felt the urge to push. It had been an hour since I was last checked and I was at a 6 then. I had been making such slow progress it didn't really seem likely. My husband was asleep and my mother-in-law and I had just been watching television. The nurse checked me and then instructed me very seriously NOT to push. They had to call the doctor and get the room ready.
A few minutes later the nurses bustled back in and hurriedly began to prepare the room. Turning on lights. Setting up the warmer and the equipment tables. They kept asking me how I was feeling and I kept telling them I felt like I needed to push. They again told me NOT to push. After everything was set up they checked me again and said the baby was right THERE. And again. Do not push. It was repetitive and funny.
I pushed for exactly thirty minutes. A short time in Elly's heart rate began to drop with the contractions and I was told to push really hard to get the baby out as quickly as possible. So I did. And my little Ellynor was born. The placenta was much smaller than Evie's but equally ugly. I still didn't cry. I was tired and happy and relieved. But unlike everyone on tv, I didn't cry.
I had been told so many times how quickly the second one would come. My first labor lasted about 18 hours and Evelyn was born at almost 2 a.m. My second labor also lasted about 18 hours and Ellynor was born at about 2 a.m.
The very first time I held her she smiled at me. I don't care how many people can say that babies don't smile that early. Or that it was gas. Five-minute old babies do not have gas. She opened those big blue eyes at her momma and smiled. It was precious.
Let me catch you up on what all has transpired since my last in-depth post. I went to the hospital at oh-dark-thirty on February 7th to have a baby. I had a good breakfast before I went (something I didn't do and really regretted the first time) and had gotten a good night's sleep. I was rested, well-fed and fully expected to have Elly in my arms by supper time.
Those hopes were quickly dashed.
By lunch the doctor was talking about sending me home and having me come back in a week or two for a c-section. Despite having good, strong and regular contractions for several hours the baby had moved up, not down and I was not dilating. I cried. I was taken off the pitocin and told to walk the halls for 30 minutes to an hour and see what happened. My nurse really pissed me off by saying maybe it was best for me to go home. Maybe the baby just wasn't ready. (in hindsight, waiting a couple of weeks probably would have made a lot of things much easier. But hindsight does tend to show things in a different light) At the time, I was furious. All I could think was how disappointed I would be. And the fact that I had already taken my maternity leave from work and that they not only wouldn't let me come back and work until I had the baby, I couldn't even take any additional time because I had taken all that was available already.
So I cried some more. And prayed. And walked the halls. And cried a little more. Posted very depressed Facebook status messages. About an hour later I was put back on pitocin and my doctor called to talk to me. He explained that if I didn't progress he was worried that the baby was already too big and it wouldn't be safe to try and deliver her. He wanted me to be prepared to go home still pregnant. He said he'd see me after 5 and wished me luck.
When the doctor came to check me he deemed me worthy to proceed with labor. And shocked me by breaking my water and telling me he would be back to deliver the baby. Of course I think I was only at like a 2 at that point.
So labor progressed. I got to experience back labor. Which I was spared with my first labor. And couldn't believe anyone had survived without an epidural. I was told that I was handling the pain with a lot of grace and aplomb.Which I felt like I was being a wuss...and in wuss fashion requested my epidural. Quickly.
Labor continued to progress. Slowly.
Around 1 a.m. the nurse came in and I told her that I was feeling a lot of pressure and kind of felt the urge to push. It had been an hour since I was last checked and I was at a 6 then. I had been making such slow progress it didn't really seem likely. My husband was asleep and my mother-in-law and I had just been watching television. The nurse checked me and then instructed me very seriously NOT to push. They had to call the doctor and get the room ready.
A few minutes later the nurses bustled back in and hurriedly began to prepare the room. Turning on lights. Setting up the warmer and the equipment tables. They kept asking me how I was feeling and I kept telling them I felt like I needed to push. They again told me NOT to push. After everything was set up they checked me again and said the baby was right THERE. And again. Do not push. It was repetitive and funny.
I pushed for exactly thirty minutes. A short time in Elly's heart rate began to drop with the contractions and I was told to push really hard to get the baby out as quickly as possible. So I did. And my little Ellynor was born. The placenta was much smaller than Evie's but equally ugly. I still didn't cry. I was tired and happy and relieved. But unlike everyone on tv, I didn't cry.
I had been told so many times how quickly the second one would come. My first labor lasted about 18 hours and Evelyn was born at almost 2 a.m. My second labor also lasted about 18 hours and Ellynor was born at about 2 a.m.
The very first time I held her she smiled at me. I don't care how many people can say that babies don't smile that early. Or that it was gas. Five-minute old babies do not have gas. She opened those big blue eyes at her momma and smiled. It was precious.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)