What I've Learned

Being a parent has taught me MANY things. Some sweet. Some funny. Some gross. All awesome.

1. This Halloween I noticed just how slutty 80% of the costumes are.

2. I'm more germ conscious, especially in public places. Gross!
          a. On a similar note, instant hand sanitizer WILL dry out your cuticles.

3. My hunger and need to pee can wait, as long as it needs to.

4. You'd be amazed how quickly you can adjust to far less sleep.

5. When you give you son a kiss and he opens his mouth and deposits a mouth-full of saliva in your mouth, it's okay.  You got a KISS. Come ON.  Open mouth kisses from babies are the BEST.

6. RELAX.

7. I am stronger than I've ever given myself credit for.

8. I would do anything, ANYTHING for my son.  Unspeakable ferocity.

9. Poo on your finger? Meh. Wipe it on your pajama pants in a pinch.

10. Poly-Vi-Sol STAINS EVERYTHING.

11. Who our real friends are.

12. Nothing cures a bad day like a laughing, smiling baby.

13. Waking-up a few times a night isn't hard when you have such a good reason for doing so.

14. Where I used to say never, I could TOTALLY be a SAHM.

15. Daycare is painful. 

16. Breastfed poo DOES stink. 
17. There's nothing like it!


And yes, I'm aware that I've ended a few of these in prepositions. Refer to #6.

Your (our) daily dose:

Daycare, Week 1

Sunday night, I was prepared for a sleepless night. I just KNEW my mind would be racing counterclockwise around an oval track (SHOO-WEE!). Much to my surprise, sleep came easily. I suppose I have a three month-old to thank for that. Liam slept for 8 hours straight that night, but woke-up at 4:00 am. My alarm was set for 5:30 am. The whole “wake, change, nurse, back to sleep” process takes roughly an hour, so I was up for the day. First thought, gross. Can’t I just crawl back into bed? No, Betsy, you can’t. Instead, I went about my get ready routine that had been on the shelf for 12 weeks. Shower, make-up, hair. Here’s where it deviates… You have to get dressed last because you’re bound to get baby goo on you. So it went: Pack pump bag. Pack bottles for Liam, fill-out daycare report card. Wake-up baby. Change baby. Dress baby. Kiss, snuggle, love, hug, laugh with, and talk to baby. Feed baby. Dress myself. And get us out the door.
Luckily, I have an amazing husband who will take all my bags out to the car and start it (it’s been COLD here) before he leaves for work (which is about 10 minutes before Liam and I leave). Love him.

Overall, the morning of daycare 1 was uneventful. Husband did the drop-off with me. We moral supported each other. I started to get upset when we were walking to the nursery, but I checked my emotions at the door as best I could. After we said goodbye to him, one of the sweet daycare ladies, Miss Jackie (the ladies who work in the nursery are in the 70s, we’d guess), snatched him up, took him to a glider, and snuggled him to pieces. She knew all we wanted to see was him being loved. She’d obviously done the “first time drop-off” a few times.

My day at work passed rather quickly. I spent my time catching-up on emails and work, and catching-up with people. Much like the end of pregnancy, I was asked the same three questions over and over. This time, though, I didn’t mind. I could talk about that kid ALL DAY LONG. I called daycare twice. Each time settled my anxiety and quieted my racing mind.

Let me tell you – I have NEVER been so excited to go home in my entire life. I was trying to think of a way to describe it. ‘Tis the season, I kept coming back to this: Going home to your baby after being apart all day is like the feeling a five year-old experiences on Christmas Eve night… knowing something magical is about to happen. The anticipation mounts, and I start clock watching. About 30 minutes before I leave, I catch myself smiling every time I think about being home. When I walk to my car, I’m smiling. I’m smiling as I drive. I rush out of my car (smiling, duh!), drop my stuff (literally), and bound up the stairs. When I see that big head my world screeches to a stop (Husband is usually cuddling Liam in the glider, which faces away from the bedroom door). When I drop my face to his level, and say, “Heeeey, buddy,” I was rewarded with the BIGGEST smile. My heart melts, my breath catches in my chest, and my world resets on its axis. It was like I had just crept down the stairs and seen the pile of presents Santa had left for me under our glowing Christmas tree. It was magical. MAGICAL.

Daycare Day 2 and 3 passed much like Day 1, except they were harder. For Day 1, I had just spent all of Sunday with him so we hadn’t really been apart. By Day 3, I was sad. I was lonely. I missed him so much it felt like little pieces of my heart were crumbling. But again, each time I arrived home I was rewarded with a smile that reset me to “happy.”

Each morning, Liam has woken-up happy as can be and TALK-A-TIVE. He’s so tired when he gets home from daycare (he’s adjusting to sleeping through all the commotion – and by adjusting I mean not sleeping much at all) that he usually nurses and then falls asleep in our arms. He’ll wake-up anywhere from 30 minutes to 2 hours later, MAYBE stay up for a little while, nurse, and the he’s down for the night. Since we don’t get to catch-up at night, in the morning he wants to tell me ALL about his day. Here I am trying to nurse him, and he keeps rolling onto his back and talking my ear off. It would be completely frustrating if it wasn’t SO FLIPPING CUTE. So we just talk. He tells me about his day, the cute girl who shares his birthday, Miss Jackie and Miss Lois. I tell him how much I love him, how much I’ve missed him, and that I’m proud of how well he’s doing. I live for those moments. I used to get them all day every day. Now that I don’t, I savor them. I roll them around slowly inside my heart, each one leaving a permanent mark so I can reach down and munch on it when I’m missing him the most.

Someone at work asked me “how it was.” I assumed he meant how it was going being apart from Liam. When I began to tell him, he said, “No. How is it being a parent?” All I could do was smile. He said, “There aren’t words, are there? It’s magical. And you can’t grasp it until you feel it yourself.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

And I officially live for the weekends now.


So you (we) can get your fix:

Two Month Check-Up (a month late)

I'm back at work now (SAD FACE). That means two (of many) things: (1) I don't get to spend all day with the cutest blessing in the world and (2) I have a lunch hour, which means time to blog. Posts have been sparse of as late. When Liam was awake, I'd much rather be hanging out with him (sorry, Followers!). And when he was sleeping there was laundry, cleaning, cooking, and like to tackle. So here's a snipet about his two month appointment, a little late :)

Liam had his two month appointment on November 18th. Driving to the appointment, I remember thinking, "TWO MONTHS?!?! Where has time gone?" And look at me now - 12 weeks, and I'm huddled in my cubicle at work.

I went solo on this trip. When I'm alone, I really appreciate how much easier it is to have a wingman. Mainly to help carry stuff. At two months, his head control doesn't allow me to carry him with one arm, so I took the carseat. And a diaper bag. And myself. Getting in wasn't the problem - everything was nicely packed away. It was getting around once in and leaving that was a bear. Liam's sweet Pediatrican carried the carseat twice for me. Note to self: don't wear calf height Uggs when your kid has to get shots, you'll sweat your feet off.

First up was nakkey Liam and the scale. 14 pounds, 8 ounces. Hello chunker! Liam got a few cat calls from other mothers as we walked to the scale. Cutest moobies (that's man boobies for those of you who aren't down with the lingo) EVER. After the scale, he was measured. 24 1/2 inches. He was 97th percentile for weight and 95th percentile for height.

The pediatrician poked and proded, and Liam just watched him intently. I feel so blessed to have such a happy baby. For once, he didn't poop when his temperature was taken. Woop! And no blow out and related funny story. Thanks, Bud!

And then came the shots. Five of them. FIVE. Three in one leg and two in the other. It was awful. The nurse was done in less than a minute, but Liam SCREAMED. My mommy heart burst into a million pieces. I quickly mended it with Elmer's and soothed and shooshed until he calmed down. Thankfully, he fell asleep on the car ride home (that is after he screamed himself silly and sleepy). When we got home, however, he woke-up and started SCREAMING again. He was crying and screaming so hard at one point that he wasn't making any noise. Poor guy was in some serious pain. The pediatrician said I could give him Children's Tylenol. I had Little Fevers. I'm no doctor, so I wanted to make sure they were the same thing. Two calls to my mom. THREE calls to the pediatrician's office, the phone was BUSY EACH TIME. Frantic searching for my SIL's work number (she's a pharmcist), not easy to find online. I finally get her number, call, and find out they are the same thing. All of this is happening while Liam is either in my arms or laying on the bed screaming. He was on the bed because I couldn't hear anything on the phone or I was about to burst into tears and needed to walk away. When I talked to SIL, my voice was quivering and wavering like a leaf in the fall in 25 mph winds. After the medicine, he calmed down, ate, and SLEPT. He got medicine every four to six hours until the next afternoon. After the intial meltdown, he was great. TROOPER!

To compare:

Here's a tasty dose of L Bean for your viewing pleasure:

2 Months Old

Nicknames: Li, LiYUM, Booger, Booger Butt, Little Man, Handsome Man, Bubba, Boogs, Mister Man

Things I Could Do Without: Sometimes you sleep 4 hours at a time, but most of the time you sleep 2 1/2 to 3 hours at a time at night.  I am REALLY hoping you extend your nighttime snoozes by the time I go back to work.  If we don't catch you (and put you down) before you get overly tired, you FIGHT sleep.  Sometimes it takes HOURS to get you to fall asleep. 

Item/Toy We Love The Most: The swing is still our savior.  You love to look at the stars that light-up and swirl around the room.  If we put you in the swing and don't turn-on the stars, you stare at the globe in anticipation.  So cute. Not only does the swing help you fall asleep when you're fighting it, but it helps you to stay asleep longer.  THANK YOU for that, Swing.  

Item/Toy You Love The Most:  You still love your play mat.  But recently, you've really fallen in love with your animal-themed bouncy seat.  It has three plastic animals that dangle over your head, one of which plays music when you pull the attached string.  You LOVE the music.  We are so ready for you to be able to pull the string yourself so we don't have to pull it every 20 seconds.  Much like the stars on your swing, you look at the animals in anticipation when the music stops.

Things I’m Loving Most Right Now: Your smile.  Oh my gosh.  Your smile melts my heart. You are such a smiley little baby.  When I lean-down to pick you up from your crib (which is really a pack n play that's in our room) and say, "Hey, handsome," you smile so big at me.  When you take a long nap during the day, I find myself missing you and wishing you would just wake-up already! 

General:

You've started to rub your eyes when you get tired.  It is absolutely adorable.  It's been so fun to see you gain more control over your arms/hands.  I feel like I trim your nails constantly; if I don't, you'll maul your face.  Or Daddy's - you scratched him GOOD on his neck.

A week ago your Grammy was trying to get you to fall asleep by swinging you in her arms.  Twice you closed your eyes and fell asleep and then WHAM, you opened your eyes.  Your poor Grammy kept saying, "Why does he do that?! He was ASLEEP!" 

You only accept your pacifier if (1) you're sleepy and trying to fall  asleep or (2) you're hungry.  We didn't even offer you a pacifer until you were about three weeks old.  When we did finally offer it to you, we did so with trepidation.  First of all, we really wanted breastfeeding to go well so we wanted to prevent nipple confusion.  Second, we didn't want you to end-up one of those 18-month olds running around the house with a pacifier in your mouth at all times. So it has worked-out perfectly that you only want it under certain circumstances.

At your Daddy's soccer game this past weekend, you were sitting on my lap trying to poop (have I mentioned how funny you are when you try to poop?  We laugh and say you get greedy with your poops because you'll be sitting there grunting away when you've already recently pooped).  And poop you did!  I went to change you in your stroller, and I noticed poop on the FRONT of your onesie.  That's the thing about pooping when you're sitting - it all comes FORWARD.  You ended-up getting poop in your belly button.  Very impressive, Little Man.

You got your first cold last week (and you still have it).  Even though you clearly don't feel 100%, you are still as smiley as ever. 

We're still waiting for that first baby laugh.  We can't wait!

I'm convinced that you'll be left-handed.  We'll see if my theory pans-out.

We love to prop you up on our legs and sing pat-a-cake with you.  We clap your hands, and you LOVE it.  You smile so big, and I can tell you want to let out a big laugh.  I don't know what it is about that song, but it's the only one you react to so happily.

Sometimes when you're nursing you'll disconnect, look-up at me, and smile so big.  It's a sheepish little grin.  Love it.

Your eyes are still blue.  So blue. When I was pregnant with you, your Daddy and I always wondered what color your eyes would be.  I have dark brown eyes, so we thought for sure the brown would beat-out the blue.  Secretly, we wanted you to have big blue eyes.  As the weeks passed, your eyes got more and more blue. You're going to be a heart breaker!

You grew-out of your newborn sized clothes by two weeks. At two months, you're wearing three month clothes, but some of them are getting small, especially in the arms.  A few onesies are like three quarter sleeves!  We think you'll be in six-month clothes by three months old.  You're going to be TALL, just like your Mommy and Daddy.

Your head control is AWESOME!  Each day, you spend time in your Bumbo seat and sitting up in our laps.  You're able to keep your head up with little help, and you can turn your head to follow objects without much support.

For comparison:

The easiest way to see the difference is compare the size of the month sticker. Wowzer!

Bits + Pieces

1. My baby snores. We're talking SNORES. And he has since birth.  How awesome is that?!

2. This week Liam stuck to the same schedule for three days in a row.  And then he got sick and WHAM, we're scheduleless.

3. Even though it's over three weeks away, I am consumed by the fact that I will be separated from my favorite person in the world (Husband being a close second) on an almost daily basis.  Any idea how hard it's going to be to say goodbye to this face? I now know that I could totally be a SAHM.

4. Liam smiles all of the time, and it melts my heart each time.  He smiles the biggest when we sing pat-a-cake and clap his hands together.  I CANNOT wait for that first laugh.

5. I now realize how hard it is to make time/room for working out when there's a baby around.  Sure, I can take him in the jog stroller, but when do I shower?  Sure, I can put him in his swing while I shower, but he'll probably be screaming by the time I get out.

6. I still haven't been apart from him, and I'm not looking forward to the first time (whenever that is). 

7. I still have that sweet tooth that developed during pregnancy.  Much to my chagrin.

8. My dad and his family are coming to town Thanksgiving, and we are SO excited.  My step mom and half siblings haven't met Liam yet, so it's going to be a good time!

9. Liam has his two-month appointment next week and shots are on the schedule.  Not excited.  I'm hoping our Ped will start charting his growth and give us some percentiles.  Very excited.

10. Being a mom is so much better than I ever imagined.

My Road to Recovery

Warning: Boys, you may want to steer clear of this one. I'm just sayin'.

For me, recovery was far worse than labor and delivery.  When I was in labor, I found sanity and relief in the fact that it would END and it would end soon.  With recovery, there's no telling when I'll be back to normal.  And who's to say that I'll ever feel normal again.  Maybe I'll have to redefine my normal. 

The fluids, oh the fluids.  I spent the first week and a half wearing the mesh panties that hospital gave me (they were so comfortable. I wish it was appropriate to wear them all of the time) and a GIANT maxi-pad.  Every time I would nurse, my uterus would contract and cramp, and I would bleed.  That's just how it goes.  Over the weeks, I slowly stepped down the size of the pad.  I'm a tampon girl, so wearing a pad was awful (although the thought of a tampon right now makes me shudder).  I was also given a steroid foam to help with general healing of my lady bits.  For me, putting a pad soaked in witch hazel on the maxi-pad was really soothing.  My bleeding really slowed by four weeks, and it ended by the end of five weeks.  I was SO glad to see the pads go.  G-R-O-S-S.

Luckily, I didn't tear.  I am so thankful for that.  I didn't tear because my doctor massaged my perineum for an hour.  And by massaged, I mean he stretched it.  At one point he told me that I would be screaming from what he was doing if I didn't have the epidural.  I remember him trying to make room for Liam's head by putting both of his hands ALL THE WAY in my lady bits.  Ouch.  All of that stretching left me bruised and battered.  For the first two weeks of Liam's life, I went from the bed to the glider to nurse and back to the bed.  Thankfully Liam only ate and slept at that point, but I missed-out on really enjoying the first two to three weeks at home with my son.  But I'm not exaggerating when I say I couldn't sit down.  When I could finally sit (on the couch and at the kitchen table), I couldn't sit without a pillow.  Even in the glider (which has a cushion) I used a pillow.  It took me four weeks to get rid of the pillow.  After that, I avoided hard surfaces as much as possible or I would sit more on one side of my butt. Today, I am sore at the end of the day.  It's manageable, and more annoying than anything.  At my appointment two weeks ago, my doctor said it can take up to 12 weeks to really start feeling good, and I totally believe him.

Along with my perineum, my right labia fell victim to delivery. We're not entirely sure how it happened because everything happened so fast, but we think it got caught-up in the vacuum.  Sitting forward HURT.  The labia went beyond uncomfortable and into painful.  It would also bleed.  The only comfortable position for me to sleep was on my side (laying on my back hurt my butt until about week five and laying on my baby feeding boobies still isn't an option), but I HAD to have a pillow between my legs.  The pressure on my labia without the pillow was terrible.  I didn't know this until my doctors appointment at five weeks postpartum, but nursing is an estrogen suppressant.  And estrogen is what heals the wreckage that is your lady bits.  So if you nurse, you heal slower.  My doctor barely moved my labia, and I was squirming and saying, "Ouch, ow, ow ow."  He sent me home with an estrogen cream to apply at night.  I've been doing it for two weeks now, and it has made a HUGE difference.  I actually feel like my labia is healing.  I am so thankful for that, because I was worried that I would be something that I'd have to deal with for a long time.

Other than the lady bits issues, I was exhausted for the first two weeks.  Not sleepy tired, but just physically exhausted.  But I suppose that's to be expected with a new baby at home :)

For me, recovery sucked.  I loved being pregnant, and I love being a mom.  I even love having a newborn around who wakes-up every two to three hours.  For those reasons, I definitely want more children.  But to be honest, recovering again terrifies me.  In the end, it's completely worth it.  And maybe next time the birth won't be so traumatic and recovery won't be so hard.  It's definitely not enough to keep me away from having a second... eventually.

Birth Story: Part V

This post should probably come with a warning: It's TMI.

First, let me say this:  Pushing sucked.  SUCKED for me.  I had read and been told that pushing brought some relief to the pain and pressure. LIES.  At least it didn't for me.  When I finally got to 10 cm, I was feeling a lot of pressure in my butt.  The pressure doesn't come in your lady bits, it literally comes in your "bottom," as the PC nurses and doctors say.  The pressure isn't painful, but it sure is annoying and uncomfortable. 

Second: Epidurals are great because they take away the pain.  That is until your Nurse and Doctor decide to TURN IT DOWN.  Yeah, they don't tell you that in the birth classes.  Many doctors like to turn down or turn OFF the epidural to create more urgency for the mother to push.  NOT COOL.  At one point, DES looked at me and literally said, "Since it's you, I'm being nice and I haven't turned it off yet."  So not cool.  With the epidural almost turned off, things started to hurt, even the pressure. 

By the time I started to push, I was exhausted.  I hadn't eaten anything since the afternoon before.  I don't know about you, but I'm that person that gets light-headed and weak after four or five hours without food.  So I was hurting for some sugar/calories.  I pushed in an inclined position on my back.  When I started to feel the pressure/pain of each contraction, DES wanted me to lift my head and shoulders off the bed, put my chin to my chest, pull my legs back with my hands, and push.  Husband was holding the right leg and Awesome Nurse Pam was on the left.  I pushed three times for 10 seconds during contraction, taking one deep breath in between each push.  With my second, I will refuse to pull-back on my legs on my own.  I was pulling back so hard that my arms would start to shake.  I feel like all of my energy and concentration was wasted on the wrong action.  Next time, I'll use the Nurse and Husband ONLY to bear-down against.

For whatever reason, I couldn't focus on pushing in the correct area.  In short, I wasn't a very good pusher.  I was a quiet, focused laborer, but a terrible pusher.  Well, maybe terrible is a strong word.  I wasn't very skilled.  I only had a handful of pushes that were REALLY concentrated in the right area.  Also in hindsight, I don't know if pushing on my back was the best position for me.  Maybe laying on my side or squatting would have been better.  With the epidural, however, I was limited to my back.

Pushing was also hard because Liam was big.  He weighed over 8 pounds, and he had a big head (at 37 weeks, his head was measuring 42 weeks.  YEAH.  Feel sorry for me).  And I'm not the biggest/widest person in the world.  DES kept saying that I only needed to get him 1 cm further to get him past my pelvic bone and then he'd be free!  I just couldn't do it.  At one point, ANP told me to reach down and feel his head.  She kept saying, "It's right there, it's right there. Come on Betsy!"  I had zero interest.  She wanted me to be motivated by the fact that he was so close.  After I continued to refuse, Liam continued to be stuck, and Liam's heart rate continued to drop with each contraction, she finally grabbed my hand and put it on his head.  It felt wet and mushy.  Feeling his head didn't do anything for my motivation.  I was exhausted, I was in pain, and I wanted him OUT. 

And then he his my perineum.  HOLY CRAP.  It hurt.  It hurt so badly.  I can't even explain the pain.  This is when I started screaming.  Literally.  I'd been SO quiet and focused through the entire experience, until the last five minutes of pushing.  I remember DES tell ANP to get the vacuum.  I'm pushing and screaming and making all sorts of animal noises.  I kept repeating, "GET HIM OUT.  GET HIM OUT NOW."  I was done.  I was exhausted, frustrated, in pain, and now I was scared.  Things were getting serious, fast.  DES told me that during the next contraction he wanted me to take the oxygen mask off and push until he told me to stop.  He was going to use the vacuum to get Liam out.  I wasn't getting the job done, and his heart rate was getting really low.  At this point, I shut my eyes, and I shut them TIGHT.  I knew I didn't want to see what was about to happen.  It would scare/traumatize me.  I didn't see any of it, but I sure felt it.

It all happened so fast.  The contraction came, and I bared-down.  I felt DES get the vacuum in place, and I felt him pull.  The feeling of Liam coming out is hard to explain.  I swear I felt gushing fluid, but I'm not sure because my eyes were closed.  It hurt. It hurts bunches.  It felt like it took forever for him to get out. And all the while I'm screaming (I swear it was like something from a movie.  I just couldn't control it.  I wouldn't be a very good Scientologist).  When he was out, I opened my eyes.  DES was holding him upside down and suctioning his mouth and nose.  Husband got really emotional, but I was really out of it.  My brain and heart couldn't connect with what had just happened (read: my son was just born!).  Liam wasn't crying, and he looked purple.  I kept saying, "He needs to cry.  He's not crying.  He just needs to cry." The nurses (more nurses came to investigate when they heard my screaming.  I wish I was joking, but I'm being totally serious) whisked him away to the warming station to work their magic, and he finally cried after what felt like an eternity.  Really it was just 10 to 15 seconds.  It took me a while to bond with Liam and the fact that I'd just given birth because I didn't get to hold him right away.  I had dreamt of Liam being born and put on my chest immediately.  Of Husband cutting the cord.  Of him taking his first big breath right there in front of me.  But it didn't matter in the end because he was healthy.

I remember asking DES why it still hurt.  Oh yeah, the placenta.  It didn't take long for me to deliver the placenta, Liam had cleared a path for it.  Husband said it was the funniest thing seeing DES holding/tugging on the cord that was hanging out of my lady bits.

After the placenta was out, it STILL hurt.  Why!?!?!  Oh yeah, I'd just given birth.  I guess I expected all of the pain to just go away.  Also, the vacuum snagged my right labia and tore it. Yeah, chew on that one, Ladies.  It wasn't something that could really be stitched-up either.  Thankfully I didn't tear, and I have DES to thank for that.  He spent the entire hour+ of pushing stretching my perineum.  Husband said at one point he looked down and saw both of DES's hands in my lady bits and he was PULLING down.  I was sore for WEEKS from the stretching (I'll detail my recovery in another post), but I am so thankful that I didn't tear.

Eventually, I got to hold Liam and my entire world changed in a millisecond.  I will never forget how he looked up at me and just stared when he heard my voice.  I was a mom, and I was my son.  It doesn't get much better than that.