On Patience and Not Always Knowing it All

My cousin-in-law and her husband (my cousin) will journey to Ethiopia this week to meet their son.  They are adopting him after years of struggling with unexplained infertility.  Something about her journey really resonates with me. She is one of the most adoring, genuine women I know.  She is kind, open-hearted, and has such a sweet spirit.  She is going to make an amazing mother and I'm so excited for her. 

I can't imagine what she's feeling right now. Anticipation, excitement, anxiety.  She gets to hold her son for the first time.  Even though she can't take him home yet, she gets to meet her child.  The child that she has wanted for so long.  I know this road has not been easy for them.  They have had to have so much patience to get here, and I'm sure that at times it's been frustrating not knowing when they were going to get their baby and then when their court date would be set.  What a true show of faith, hope, and patience.

I wish I could say that even in my "easy" journey to motherhood and now four months in that I have shown such strength.  A little over a year ago I posted about my love/hate relationship with Fertility Friend.  I always wanted to know it all. WHEN was I going to ovulate.  Do my symptoms compare with others, could this or that show that I'm pregnant.  Then I got pregnant and I wanted to know even more.  Is the heartbeat too slow, too fast, too rhythmic.  Is he moving enough, too much, too little.  Am I eating the right things to make him strong and smart.  And now, I'm a mom, and I still yearn to know it all.  Is he eating enough, too much. Is it gas? Am I producing enough milk? Is he teething? How do I know? Is this a growth spurt, developmental, physical? 

For each of these stages, I've researched obsessively. I've joined birth clubs and asked other moms.  I recently downloaded the Wonder Weeks app only to find that D is smack dab in the middle of one of the biggest developmental leaps.  Does this solve his fussiness? No, but something about knowing that he's there makes him easier to handle.  I always feel that way: if I can just know more, I'll be ok.

But when does knowing more stop? Or moreover, when is knowing more a bad thing?  I overanalyze everything, always looking for an explanation or an answer.  I find myself doing this so much that I forget to live in the moment and enjoy my son, even at his fussiest.  I ask my mom why, I ask myself why, I ask D why and really, I come up with no answers besides he's a baby.  My cousins have endured many moments where they've known nothing about their son, and they had nowhere to turn, no app to explain what was going on, no message board that could tell them what it would be like to embark on this journey.  And they're still coming out ok, more than ok, because in the next few days, they will hold the product of their patience.  A precious son. 

And I'll end with a pic. In a rare moment of non-fussiness, D found his feet.

Monster Baby

I play this game with D where I stand him up and say in a very weird, German-man-esque voice, "I am a monster baby and I am going to crush your town with my giant monster baby legs!" Weird, I know.  But little did I know that my beautiful, happy, chatty baby would soon evolve into a monster baby.

Teething + four month sleep regression = monster D.

I'm pretty sure that we are officially in teething territory.  Massive amounts of drool, pulling on the ears, snuffly nose, wanting to chew on everything.  Last night, though, we had blood curdling screaming along with this.  D has never been inconsolable, even as a newborn, so last night's crying episodes lead me to believe he's teething.  Poor, poor baby.  These are the kind of screams that make your heart and your tummy hurt, where the baby's whole body goes rigid and the arms and legs are flailed out, even when you're holding them.  Thank goodness I was at my mom's because I probably would've freaked out. 

We gave him some Tylenol, a bath, and a boob and put him to bed.  He woke up at 11:30, 12:30, and then 6. For a baby who usually sleeps 8-6, this is not a normal routine.  In his sleep, he scratched the outer part of his ear so hard he made himself bleed. 

Now, I've never had a baby before, but I think this may be teething behavior.  There's a theory out there that babies go through a four month sleep regression because they're developing so much mentally at this stage, and I think we've hit that too.  Usually D's naps are wonderful. I can lay him down and he makes no peep for an hour or two, but lately, he wakes up multiple times during his naps and I have to go put his paci in and calm him down so he goes back to sleep.  I feel like all of these sleep disturbances are also making him a fuss bucket. 

I don't want him to grow up too quickly, but I would definitely like for this four month sleep regression to stop. D's spoiled me with this good sleep, so I'd like it back!  I'm one tired momma.  With Sparky gone four days a week and grad school back in full swing, I'm pretty worn out and WAY ready for our vacation next week. Being a "single" parent is incredibly difficult.  Props to women who do it.

On having cake and eating it too

There's an episode of Sex and the City (one of my all time favorite shows) where Samantha moves into a new apartment and all the girls are at her place.  She leans out the window and shouts, "You see New York, we can have it all!" and then the next morning she wakes up with the flu.  Can we ever have our cake and eat it guiltlessly?

I've never been the girl who's wanted to stay home with her child.  I've always been a career-driven, career-minded woman.  When I was in high school, I swore that I would never get married but rather spend my life traveling as an international business woman who would some day adopt a child.  That mentality changed when I fell in love, first with my now-husband (yes, we dated in high school) and then with my ex-boyfriend whom I dated for 6 years. 

Society puts pressure on women in different ways, often creating a catch-22.  We are told that to be the best mothers, we should stay home.  But we are also told we can have it all, an excellent job, great salary, beautiful home AND the family.  How do these two world coexist? And how am I not to feel guilty for NOT staying home with my child?  For the 8 hours I am at work, someone else will be raising my son.  Someone else will hold him and cuddle him, will begin to teach him discipline.  Someone else who won't be me, who won't make the same silly faces or sing the same silly songs.  But the reality is, like millions of other women, not working right now is not an option.

I've taught AP English for 6 years now, and since I began teaching (8 years ago...) I've wanted to grade essays for the national AP Language and Composition exam.  I applied three years ago and this year, my application was accepted.  I was all set to go to Kentucky for a week in June.  I have about 150 ounces of milk saved and was introducing formula to supplement my stash.  We'd worked out childcare with my mom and my MIL during the day and Sparks would pick D up after work every day.  I was on the road to "having it all"--the baby, the awesome opportunity, the good job.  And then life happened.  When I accepted the invitation in January, I never realized how hard being away from the baby would be.  I thought, I'm a driven, independent girl--there's no WAY I will mind being away from home. Not so true.  The logistics of leaving a baby for 8 days are also crazy hard.  So I started praying about the decision--should I cancel my trip that I've wanted for 8 years....or should I go?  And then Sparky found out he would have to work out of town four days a week from now until July, and the decision was made for me; I had been given the sign (or answer) I'd been praying for.  No opportunity of a lifetime because there's no one else to watch the baby. 

It's bittersweet, really.  I've cried many times already because I am losing something I've wanted for so long, something that defines a career and makes a teacher.  But I can't have it all.  I already have the most precious gift in the whole world with Mr. D, and I know I shouldn't ask for more than that. 

Though sometimes it would be nice to eat the cake guiltlessly...

Musings and Mumblings

It's been quiet around these parts lately.  (aside, when I type 'quiet,' I always have to double check and make sure I didn't type 'quite.' Once when I was grading essays that referenced a 'golden carp' a lot of students wrote 'golden crap.' golden crap. hahahaha, but enough to always make me double check that I haven't transposed my letters)

As you can see, my mind is a little everywhere these days, but in a good way.  Sparks just got an investment property, so I will be venturing into single-parenthood for a few weeks, which is fine if said property investment means I get to stay home for a little while after I finish my masters degree.  (I know that staying home AFTER I get the degree doesn't make sense but the degree will not vanish if I choose not to work for a couple of years)  I'm feeling under the weather AGAIN (and really, if the weather is nice, why wouldn't you want to be under it? Who makes up these phrases?!).  Daniel is three months today and as great as ever.  I've had two nights of 6+ hours of sleep for myself, where D is sleeping 8-5ish and then again until we leave for work. And D is napping in his crib--he finally doesn't fight it!  Except he naps on his tummy, which of course means I'm a horrible parent and will soon be eaten by a lion (see this post). He sleeps with his butt in the air, and at this rate, I think he will crawl before he rolls over. 


Photo proof of butt-in-air sleeping. I love his giraffe socks

The Sleeping Conundrum

I shared this link on f-book for my BFF (she's a new mommy too) and thought I should post it here.  This essay is HYSTERICAL and describes the conundrum new parents face when trying to get their kids to sleep, when trying to sleep train their kid, and when trying to figure out what the hell sleep training is.  I could've written this myself. 

So here's the other conundrum: I pray for D to sleep through the night, but when he does, I wake up every hour worried that he's sleeping.  Which means, I wake up more now that he's sleeping than I do when he was waking up.

Seriously. I'm exhausted.  Happy, but exhausted.

And for the record, we have not followed a specific sleep book.  I have pulled different ideas from all over and it seems to be working.  My child has not been eaten by a lion yet.  He does nap in his swing, so maybe when he's in college, he'll have a big swing in his dorm and nap in that.  I guess that's the price I'll pay for getting my baby to take a nap. 

Daniel Doodle's day in the ER

Hello blogettes! Been a while...

We've been pretty busy around here in the abnormally-cool-for-May south.  Unfortunately, little D made his first trip to the children's hospital last week :(  Here's the whole story...

Last Wednesday night D had a particularly bad night of sleeping, like up every hour.  He's been sleeping well (only waking up once) so I was very frustrated with this.  He cried all morning and then stopped when I got to the babysitter's house to drop him off.  She called me around 10:30 and said he'd only eaten 2.5 ounces (usually eats 5+) and had been sleeping all morning; when he wasn't sleeping, he was crying.  I called our ped and she said any time a baby this small is lethargic they want to see him immediately.

A little more back story...I had taken off last Thursday to move all my crap home from my mom's house.  Sparky had been in Finland for 10 days and was returning home so I thought I'd clean the house, take a nice shower and get pretty for him.  This would be accomplished by leaving the baby at the sitter's house for his normal time (7:30-12). 

Ok back to the story. SO I get that phone call right as I was getting in the shower.  I had NO makeup on and had my work out clothes on (not that I had had time to work out).  Call the ped, get an appt in 30 minutes.  I rush to put some semblance of makeup on as to not look like a total crap mom.  I was also driving the truck that day which has the old carseat, not my nice shiny one. Needless to say I was sure they would just take the baby away from me for looking so crappy and bringing in the old carseat. 

Temp was 100.3 at dr, right on the verge of being dangerous (100.4 is immediate ER for a baby under 6 weeks) but D was 9 weeks...so we were on the brink.  This whole time Sparky is IN THE AIR and has no idea what's going on.  My mom (amazing woman) rushes to ped's office and we decide to take D to the ER (after changing cars and getting the good carseat). 

Long story short...an IV, catheter, spinal tap, and 2 xrays of his belly later, we find out that D is perfectly fine and just has the virus I've had for two weeks.  (and he has a milk protein allergy which means no more dairy for me).  Temp spiked to 102.6 during our night-long stay in the hospital.  Sparky landed, got my frantic text and had his cab drop him off at the hospital, suitcases and all.  We were moved to a room around 8pm.  Sparky had gone home, showered, and grabbed our essentials for an overnight stay, and we proceeded to spend the whole night taking turns holding D and trying to doze off. He refused to be put down, poor baby. 

We were released on Friday around one.  D took the weekend to recuperate and by Monday, his temp was FINALLY gone and we got the all clear from our ped.  He's back to his happy, smiley self which is wonderful.  Scariest experience to date.  Seeing your child poked and prodded is absolutely horrible. 

He's since started talking more and batting objects with his hands.  He'll lay on his play mat for like 30 minutes now, just mesmerized by his toys! It's so cute.  On that note, here's a pic :)


napping on mom and looking like my younger brother!




helping mom finish her research paper

Join the Movement: Never Forget

Last year, I blogged about National Infertility Awareness Week (NIAW) while we were knee deep in cycling, TTC, surgeries, and non-working fallopian tubes.  This year, we are in such a different place.  I am holding an 8 week old miracle in my arms.  This year, I look at my blogroll and see 90% of those whom I follow have either just had their miracle babies or are only a few short weeks away from doing so.  This year, things are different, but I have not forgotten.

I know that I do not fit the definition of a typical "infertile," but I still suffer (and suffered) from issues that no one talks about--a septate uterus with a muscular/vascular septum that cut my uterus almost in two and only one working fallopian tube.  I still remember the pain of diagnosis, of three uterine surgeries, of countless rounds of hormones, of failed cycles, and of the loss that started everything.

I have not forgotten the loss of Malachi.  Through the blogging community, I realized that I was not alone in my grief.  I realized that other people felt the same way after a loss and that there was hope.  I connected with women I had never met but needed desperately. 

I think that after struggling with infertility or loss and then going on to have a successful pregnancy, women can forget what that felt like. In recognition of NIAW, don't forget.  Remember that we are the ones that can listen to those struggling with infertility.  When we hear of someone with a new diagnosis, it's our job to make them aware of resources--such as our blogging community--to help.  It's our job to make our struggles known in order to help others.  I won't forget.