A Year of Gratitude: Day 268

Today I am grateful that we, as a culture, are starting to talk about what post-natal bodies really look like.  (Check here, here, here, and here for further reading.)  I think back to my own experience, going from a glowing, yet very large, lady at 39 weeks ...

... to what, at the time, felt like Jabba the Hut.

I knew my body wouldn't snap back immediately, but I had no idea I would look as I did.  And I felt so bad about it, so uncomfortable.  (Though I imagine at least part of the discomfort was because of the c-section.)  When they told me Baylor weighed 10 lbs. 10 oz., I imagined losing that weight and being close to back to "normal", even though I knew I had gained a total of 64 pounds with him and weighed more than my husband did.  So it was a shock to see my post-baby body and it was awkward seeing others and wondering what they thought, and I hated seeing all those celebrities snap back within weeks, maybe a month, of having a baby, and I wondered what I was doing wrong that I couldn't attain that.  I consider myself to be a relatively smart person, but my whole world had been turned upside down and this was just one more thing that didn't make sense.

That seems like forever ago, these pictures and that feeling of "Jabba-ness", and thankfully all I really remember feeling was this ...

Joy.  So much joy.  In the end, it didn't matter how big I still was, how soft my belly had become.  All that mattered was my little boy and the love that was growing rapidly in our hearts.

(Sadly, postpartum depression set in pretty quickly and wiped away a lot of that joy, but I try to view that time with a grateful heart, so grateful that I have moved past that point onto much happier times.)

So let's get this acceptance going.  Let's let new moms off the hook and allow the love to spread and build like it should.  Forget the judgement and take a pass on the gossip and just ... love.

Have a wonderful night!

A Year of Gratitude: Day 183

Today I am grateful that I found some pictures I hadn't seen in a while (and some of them maybe never) while trying to upload yesterday's video to our computer.  The pictures were taken on our video camera and were of the few days leading up to, the day of, and the few days after Baylor's birth.  It's amazing how big he's gotten and how far we've come since then.  Take a look!

I don't remember Jeannine and Allan, Baylor's great-grandma and great-grandpa, coming to the hospital, but if they were there on his actual birthday it was because I was terribly drugged up.  If they came in one of the days following, it was likely because I was completely overwhelmed and/or starting to develop post-partum depression.  

The next ones are from right before we left the hospital.  I forgot how many freckles I had that summer; must have been from all that time I spent swimming in the pool trying to get a little exercise in with my enormous belly.

He was just so perfect and precious ... and huge!

And at this moment I was thinking, "Holy crap!  They're gonna let us take him home?!  How do they know we're ready?  Are we ready?!  Ahhhh!" and "This really isn't comfortable, holding a car seat on your lap.  Can't I just hold him and put him in it when we get to the car?" and "This is the last of the 'pampering' here at the hospital.  My last little comfortable ride.  Oh boy ..."

But we got home and got through some of the rough first few days.  And though they were rough, they were still great.  I mean, come on, just look at that face!

So very glad I found these (and more)!

Have a wonderful day!

Weaning: Vacation Ahead

I am bound and determined to be done with nursing by the time Amalia's first birthday rolls around.  She seems ready, having already decreased to one or two feedings a day and LOVING her water bottle.  And I am ready; I miss drinking milk and eating yogurt, and I would LOVE not to have to whip my shirt up at all during the day or have my chest ache from missing a feeding.

So, ready as we are to hop off the nursing train, I am a little unsure of what to expect when all this stops.  The last time I stopped nursing I was pregnant, so I don't really know how this whole weaning thing works.  When does your body get back to "normal"?  And what is my new normal going to be?  I already weigh several pounds less than I did before I got pregnant with Baylor; in fact, I am smaller than I have been in years, due to a combination of nursing, eating better, and exercising more.  So what happens after I stop nursing?  Will I gain weight?  Will I lose weight?

In short, as my sister so aptly put it the other day, I'm about as screwed as you can get when it comes to clothes right now.  Not only am I weaning (new bra size), but I am not pregnant or post-partum (new waist size) and I'm exercising (new hip and thigh size).  To sum things up, I have only a couple pair of jeans that really fit me well, and the rest of my closet is slightly baggy.  To compound the confusion, we are leaving on vacation a couple weeks after Mollie's birthday ... vacation in Florida.  Where I'll need shorts.

*sigh*

So, soon, I'll get to go shopping for new bras (smaller ones for my newly-deflated chest), a new bathing suit (a tankini to cover my belly - though very toned, my skin has not rebounded like I'd hoped it would), new shorts (my old ones are too big and outdated), and probably some new shirts (again, smaller chest).  It's the perfect storm of craptasticness.  Oh, and I get to do it in a total time-crunch, vacation looming large on the horizon.

I know I shouldn't be complaining; I know I am very lucky to have lost all the baby weight I gained (64 and 56 pounds per pregnancy) and then some.  And I get to go on vacation to Florida; again, nothing to sneeze at.  I guess what I'm looking for is advice and insight from anyone who has been here before me.

How long until my body fully done with nursing?  Meaning, when will I know where things have settled?  

Just Over A Year ...

It's hard to believe that Mollie has been in our lives for over a year now. Yeah, she's only four months old, but we learned about her presence just over a year ago (July 28th, if I remember correctly).

It all started with this photo in the Banana Republic Outlet dressing room, a shocking realization that something was most definitely up.

Followed the next morning with an "Oh ... my ... God!"

I so wanted to tell Bryson in some weird, wacky, fun way that I was pregnant but I ended up blurting it out while in traffic near the corner of Kalamazoo and 28th. That spot still holds a special place in my heart, and I think of that moment every time I drive through that magical corner.

Our first glimpse of her beautiful face.

And my protruding belly the morning of the fall.

And then, in the flashiest of flashes, she was here, in my arms.

Doing amazing things like meeting her brother.

Who knew I'd have such a tiny baby after my 10 lbs. 10 oz. baby boy?!

Who knew that after positively swimming in her going home outfit (which I almost accidentally consigned the other day!!) ...

... that she would grow enough to be wearing 9 month clothing at only 4 months of age!

She hasn't liked her car seat from the get-go. But really, who can blame her?

She was truly a newborn baby, something I hadn't really experienced much with Baylor; right out of the oven he was bigger than some 3 month-olds.

But as she filled out ...

... and brought out her personality ...

... she's grown into the girl we know and love today.

Amalia, we love ya and we can't wait to see who you become in the months and years ahead!

A Taste of Denim

I finally got back into jeans yesterday, and it was divine! Yes, they are my post-pregnancy jeans from my last post-pregnancy time, so they are two to three sizes bigger than I ordinarily wear, but they are jeans nonetheless. And they fit perfectly; only a slight muffin top in certain spots.

And then today ... stupid, stupid today ...

I wore them again today, thrilled at feeling like a fully-functioning human being in normal clothes, when I noticed around lunch time that the area right above my incision was a little tender. I felt the spot that was sore, and I found it to be swollen and hard.

(Insert expletive here.)

Apparently, I jumped back into my jeans a little too quickly, and my body is yelling at me for it.

Now that I've had that taste of denim, though, I'm craving more. I love wearing jeans; they make me feel confident and still comfortable. And right now they represent something even more meaningful; they, in a weird way, represent my freedom. They were that first step back into a normal routine where I don't have to rely on everyone to help me out. As infinitely grateful as I am for all the help I've been given over the past month, I miss being able to do what I need to do when I need to do it and in the manner in which I like it done. I miss scooping up my little man and heading out for this or that, driving to and fro whenever I pleased. I miss being able to carry him up and down the stairs, for heaven's sake, and hold onto him when he's having a rough day - like he is today.

So today I'm a little sad, too. A little sad to have had to step out of my jeans.

One Month Ago Today ...

... this little lady came into our lives.

And she's certainly got a hold on us.

Happy first month, Miss Mollie!

A Treadmill vs. A Run Outdoors: Why We're Having Only Two

I've been wanting to write this post for almost a week now ... clearly this new addition has taken some getting-used-to.

I have thought a lot recently about Michelle Duggar. You know, the "19 Kids and Counting" mom of TLC fame? For the past twenty-two years this woman has been popping out one to two kids (she has two sets of twins) every eighteen months or so. While I appreciate that this is the lifestyle she has chosen, I cannot for the life of me understand it.

I feel like Baylor's personality is emerging more and more everyday, and it kills me a little bit that I missed even a moment of him taking shape, becoming "Baylor". Don't get me wrong, I love Amalia and am thrilled that she has joined our family, but I am not a fan of the newborn time of life. There is so much uncertainty; from "why is she crying" to "should I wake her up to feed her", there is no way for me to know for sure if what I'm doing is right or not. And there's the breastfeeding; I know it's good for my babies so I do it for a year, but I don't feel like it's this huge bonding experience and I don't really like whipping my boobs out in mixed company. Those two factors, plus the burping, spitting up, constant poop, and floppy head make this a time I just cannot entirely enjoy. I wish I could, but for me it's like being on a treadmill all the time - it's exhausting.

Truth be told, I like this whole toddler time a lot. I like that he smiles when he comes down to see me in the morning, how he tells a little story about the elevator he rode when he come to visit us at the hospital, how he is curious about EVERYTHING. Yeah, it's exhausting when he realizes he's tall enough to reach this or that and when he climbs onto things he shouldn't, but he's a little man coming into his own and it's exciting to see him discovering the world. And I like being the one to show him new things and try to come up with ways to explain things to him. It's fun, it's exciting, and though it's just as exhausting as the treadmill days of a newborn it's more akin to running outside ... there's always a new challenge, a new sight, a new bit of the world to enjoy.

So this is, in part, why we're only having two. I can only do this twice. I can only do the c-section/newborn time combination twice. I like a good run outdoors, and I can't stand the thought of missing my outdoor runs to run the treadmill a few more times.

But that's just me.

Newborn Days vs. Toddler Days

Days with a newborn are so incredibly different than days with a toddler. I forgot how much they sleep, how their only real times awake are when they want food or a clean diaper. As I write this, Amalia is asleep on my lap, her little legs curled up by my stomach, and Baylor is outside having a ball with my dad.

I know my therapist told me not to think too far into the future, allowing all my thoughts and worries to pile up on my shoulders, but I can't help it at this moment. How on earth do you combine the whirlwind of activity that comes with toddler days with the sleepy comfort of newborn days? How am I supposed to chase after Little B with a sleeping Amalia on my shoulder? How will I get him outside to run and play like he should be able to?

This is just one of the logistical questions I have regarding caring for two children. My head is swirling with millions more.

Deep breath, Nicole. Deep breath.

A Sea of Memories

Quite frankly, I had so many pictures I didn't even know where to start. The last week and a half has been chock full of so many memories that I've wanted to capture that my "Baylor & Amalia" file already has over 170 pictures in it. Since I couldn't post them all, I took my mom's advice and posted my favorites to share with you.

My view of Miss Amalia while we were in the hospital.

Baylor's second or third visit to the hospital to visit us. He loved the hospital bed and made it go up and down. But what he still talks about every single day ... the elevator. He tells us his own little version of how everything went down; today he finally included "baby" in the story.

First hugs from her big brother.

Trying so hard to make it work. I'm going to will it if I have to.

First go at tummy time ... she's a champ already!

Lately the little man has been all about peekaboo ...

Mollie was a champ at her first doctor's visit, only crying when they stretched her out to measure her and when Dr. Mike swaddled her arms in. This is the only time I've caught her sucking on her fingers; I'm glad I was able to capture it.

More hugs from her big brother ...

And he helped put together her new bouncy seat! Look at those skills!

Now that the weather is finally warmer, Little B has been over to our neighbors' house to enjoy their slide a little bit.

Enjoy!

Cloudy Skies

I had so hoped it wouldn't happen this time, but it has ... the cloudy skies of postpartum depression have settled over me once again. It came on with a vengeance in the hospital, a whole week ahead of when I got it after I had Baylor. This time, I immediately contacted my therapist and the hospital helped me up my dosage of antidepressant.

Still ...

Everything has a haze over it right now. I feel so incredibly out of control, and yet so responsible for two little lives. It's an overwhelming, crushing feeling, and I'm trying to figure out how to reconcile all of my emotions and find my new normal.

So, that all being said, I'm sorry if I haven't responded to any of the well-wishes and love you guys have sent out to me and my little family. I have kinda drawn into myself and haven't quite figured out how to keep up with friends and family while doing this whole mom-of-two thing. I'm sure I'll get it eventually. Until then, I apologize for any lack of communication on my part.

For Those of You Who Don't Know ...

I had a baby girl yesterday! Her name is Amalia (pronounced "Ah-MAH-lee-ya") Jean, and she weighed in at 7 lbs. 4 oz. and measured 20.5 inches long. Quite the peanut compared to my 10 lbs. 10 oz. boy!

Here she is!

I had actually woken up at around 4:30 to use the bathroom and I was so incredibly hungry I thought to myself, "Whatever you do, just don't have the baby today ... you have GOT to eat something!"

Ah, the irony!

My water broke, as I previously mentioned, at around 5:00 a.m. That was a fun, messy surprise! We quickly got ready and my in-laws made the three-door trek to our house to be there should Baylor wake up.

I thought I had been contracting, but I wasn't sure if it was a dream or not, so I didn't bother to time them. As it turns out, by the time we got in the car they were three to four minutes apart, but they weren't hugely strong or long-lasting. At the hospital, we found out I was only 3 cm dilated and 50% effaced.

I know this is going to sound weird, but I was so excited that I got to experience labor at least a little bit. Yeah, the water breaking and leaking with every contraction was gross and the contractions weren't fun, but I so wanted to know what labor felt like and it was thrilling to have a little unexpectedness at the end of our pregnancy!

By 7:30 I was back in the operating room getting my spinal block, which went miles better than it did last time, and after a quick bout of nausea I started feeling pretty calm. Bryson came in and settled down next to me with the video camera. They actually let him film her being born, so I'm hoping to put that up here at some point. It's pretty graphic, lots of blood, but it's also kind of amazing.

Anyhow, Bryson got to announce that she's a girl and we quickly found out her weight. I have to say, I was more shocked by her weight than I was that she was a girl. I have never held a baby that small! She's just so tiny!

After the surgery was over and I was all sewn up, they took me back to triage to recover and her to the nursery to get cleaned up and checked out. Recovery for this c-section went so much better than the last one; I didn't have nearly as much nausea or sleepiness, and I actually remember most - if not all - of the day! Oh, and I only threw up once after I drank some grape juice too fast, so that was a vast improvement over last time.

Baylor got to come to the hospital to meet his little sister, but he was much more interested in all the electronic gadgetry in the room than he was in a sleepy little baby. I cried a lot when they left for the night, more for my sake than his ... I knew he was in good hands and would be well-cared for; I was just going to miss him intensely. And I did. But, I have my little girl to look out for now, too. So at least I had a little distraction to keep me from missing him to the point where I couldn't function.

Amalia and I had a decent number of good feedings yesterday, but she has since grown very sleepy and reluctant to wake up to eat. We'll get the hang of it eventually.

Anyhow, I guess that's all for right now. There will be many more pictures and stories to come, I'm sure. Thanks for all the well-wishes!

Have a wonderful day!

39 Days

Last night my knees exploded. Not actually, but they certainly looked and felt like they were going to. Apparently I ate too much sodium at dinner or was too sedentary in the evening because by the time I went upstairs to bed my knees were miserable. Climbing the stairs alone was painful and slightly taxing, and I had to enlist my husband to help get my knee-high, open-toe (uber-attractive) compression socks off. Ugh, it was a dismal sight ... shades of what happened when I was pregnant with Baylor appeared before my eyes.

And then my husband said, after some calculation,

"Only 39 days to go!"

He smiled at me, hopeful he'd helped, then asked after seeing my dazed reaction, "Is that good or bad?"

Well, that all depends on how you look at it.

In 39 short days I get to meet my son or daughter. That part is wonderful, exciting, and awesome.

Then there's the rest of it. I'll try to pick this apart as best I can, but I already cried once this morning just thinking about all this so bear with me.

First off, there is the physical aspect of it. Yes, in 39 days I won't have to sleep all night on my left side, my leg swelling will go down, I won't have all this extra weight on me (though I'll still have some), and so on and so forth. Until then, however, I have 39 days to fight water weight gain, my dreaded pregnancy nemesis. Not only does the water weight I tend to gain rob me of normal-looking knees, but it makes my joints feel arthritic. If it spreads to my hands, it will bring on pregnancy-induced, water weight gain carpel tunnel syndrome, making it so I can't feel anything my fingers touch. Not cool, and not a whole lot of fun when you're trying to diaper a wiggle worm. So I have a battle ahead of me to keep the water from settling under my skin and, at the same time, not deprive myself so much that I binge on salt and ruin the whole thing.

After those 39 days, I will trade the uncomfortable pregnancy symptoms to feeling like I have been sawed in half from hip bone to hip bone. Laughing, crying, walking, sneezing, coughing, climbing, sitting, standing, and every other little movement we take for granted throughout the day will suddenly hurt and I am not looking forward to it. That said, I know I have to do it, so I'm just trying to reconcile the notion in my head.

Secondly, I have 39 days to finish everything on my Tick Tock list, and more. I have done a crappy job of getting things done, but I've been trying to not let the house go to pot and I've been tired. Sue me. The list is looming large over my head and I need to start ticking things off it before I lose my mind. So there's that.

Then there's all the emotional stuff that goes along with bringing another person into our family. I'm bracing myself for post-partum depression (and will be getting advanced help from my OB and therapist), so that part is as under control as I can get it right now. But then there's Baylor.

Deep breath, Nicole.

I know, without a doubt, that the people who will be helping me after the baby is born love and care for Baylor more than words can say. I know he won't be short on attention or love. It's the selfish part of me that is so very sad that I won't get to scoop him up and hug him or carry him around like he's used to. We won't have our laundry time for a long while. All those things we do together throughout the day will change, and I have 39 days to both soak up all the goodness and prepare Baylor and myself for this new world we're going to enter into.

I worry I will have to divide my love like I'm going to have to divide my time, something I'm not good at anyhow. I'm worried things will fall through the cracks and all this mommy confidence I've gained in the past 17 months will disappear. I have 39 whole days to worry. And yet I have only 39 days to worry.

So 39 days are ahead of us to try to get ready for a new life. Just when I got used to our rhythm it's going to change, and I'm kinda sad about it. (Paco, if you ever read this and are a stay-at-home mom or dad, you'll understand. I hope you'll forgive me for feeling this way.)

I know we'll eventually get into a rhythm again; I'll just have two kids instead of one. We'll find our new normal together, and everything will be happy and good.

It's just the getting there that has me worried.

This Post is Sponsored by the Letter B!

"B" is for Little B in his bathing suit. His Oma got him a new kiddie pool and he spent some time in there the other day exploring.

At first, he wasn't sure what to make of the water. "Do I touch it? Do I ignore it? Why does Momma have a perma-grin on? At least it's nice and warm."

Then he felt comfortable enough with his surroundings to multi-task a bit.

Then he decided to check out the waterfall feature, though it was not actually working at that moment because we would have had to have hooked up the hose to it and the water coming out would have been freezing! So we poured some water in there to create a little action, and he was pretty fascinated with it.

"Look what's going on over here, guys!

Pretty soon, though, it was time to get out and get dried off. Of course, hugs from Oma are required for this and many other situations. Lucky wet Oma!

More exploring was certainly in order! (Yes, he later stood up in the same spot and his little legs snuck through the opening ... gotta keep your eye on this guy!)

After dinner (corn on the cob season has officially begun ... hallelujah!), Little B got to play with Grandpa E, Big B (my husband), and the ladies. The baking utensil drawer was of particular interest.

Peekaboo!

Oma even let him stick his arm into her drinking glass up to his elbow and sprinkle the water all over the hardwood floor! Grandpa E seemed less than thrilled, but who can help but smile when you see such a cute face?

So, by now you may be wondering about the ridiculously over-sized shirt my son has on in the pictures above. Yes, it says "big brother". Yes, I am pregnant.

What?! What?! What?! Yeah, you heard right. Little B is going to be a big brother.

When we went to Birch Run, Mom and Christine had me try on a dress for a wedding we are going to at the end of August. After seeing my reflection in the mirror, I kinda thought it was time for a pregnancy test.

The next morning ...


So "B" also for baby. Yup, one is on the way. It's still really early in the pregnancy so I'm trying to stay calm about it all; I know things can happen that are beyond my control. Nonetheless, we are really excited and thrilled that we didn't have the complications we ran into last time (more on that later).

Another bitty baby belly picture for you before I end this particular post. I will write more later, but I am pooped! Yeah, I had no idea what exhaustion was ... I laugh at that girl who wrote about being SO tired nearly a month ago. She had no idea what she was talking about!

Pictures from the Trip

My son is amazing in the morning ... he is a total morning person and I love that about him. My family does too and felt really excited to see his beautiful little face every morning. Here are my dad and sister with him on the couch in the condo.

This was his first time in a pool float. As you can see, he wasn't overly impressed with it, but he eventually warmed up to it. It probably didn't help that he was super tired at the time.

Yes, I decided to go with the bikini. Every tankini I tried on made my waist disappear and they didn't seem to offer as much support as this athletic bikini did. I felt a little self-conscious in my bikini, but eventually I just forgot about it and went with the flow. Bikini bonus: my son can't pull down my top in public. Thwarted again, little man!

I don't know if I'm the only one who thinks this ... but I think my son looks soooo much like my sister. She's beautiful, he's beautiful ... plus those gorgeous baby blues! What do you think?

Yup, my son was obsessed with the drain at the swimming pool. We think it is because it looks like stripes and he has an affinity for stripes, but I suppose we'll never actually know the truth. So cute.

Anyhow, I'm hoping to put up more pictures of the trip (we have a couple awesome whole family shots that I would like to post), but we'll see what I can get to. The house is a mess and with the little man spending more and more time on the floor I really feel like I need to get the carpet in better shape (i.e., vacuum, sweep).

Have a wonderful day!