My Worst Fear

I was going to write about something completely different today - I was going to post (ok, ok - brag) about my boot camp session today. About how I actually dragged myself outside, in 40 degree weather (isn't it May?!) and rain, even though my bed was calling my name. But, to be honest, my mind wasn't "in" boot camp today - it was with a family I've never even met - the Bissing Family. They were just a normal family, living their lives with 6-month-old triplets and an older son, until the bottom fell out of their world one night. Owen, one of the triplets, was found unresponsive and on his stomach in his crib. They got his heart beating again, but the damage to his brain was too extensive, and now his family is setting about the incredibly brave and generous task of donating his organs so other babies can live. This is every parent's worst fear. Be it SIDS related, as this appears to be, or some horrible accident, or an illness that takes your child - this is the fear that parents live with - something happening to your child.

I will be the first to admit it - I am scared silly about SIDS. As much as CHD and childhood cancer scare me, SIDS does as well. When I was in high school, my cousin lost her precious baby boy to SIDS. I will never forget his wake and funeral. When Drew was born, we bought the Angel Care monitor, which measures his breathing with a sensor and sets off an alarm if there isn't any movement for 10 seconds or so. It went off once, and after we determined Drew was fine (it took a bit because he was really sleeping), I completely lost it. When he was diagnosed with his CHDs, I asked the cardiologist about SIDS. She assured me this would not increase his risk for a SIDS related death, and I tried to believe her.

I am sure many people wonder "why does she read this stuff? it's so depressing." I don't have an answer for that. And it IS depressing. But maybe I read it to remind myself of what I have - two healthy boys - and to never take that for granted. Maybe I read it to share in a mother's grief and support her from afar, because only another mother can understand the love we bear our children. Maybe I read it to remind me to not get caught up in the everyday "stuff" - the acting out, the middle of the night feedings, the being pulled in 9 million directions when all I want to do is sit still...and just be grateful. Be grateful that I have a child healthy enough to be defiant - remembering that I prayed he would grow strong and healthy - and let some of it go. Be grateful that my baby CAN wake me up in the middle of the night. Be grateful I am insanely busy because it means my boys are here to keep me busy.

So, no. Today I am not going to write about boot camp. Not when I was up nearly all night thinking about Owen, and his family, and wondering how Emmett was doing in his crib and if the Angel Care monitor was working. Not when, after my shower, I was greeted by big smiles from my little man. Not when I got to snuggle in bed with him while we waited for his big brother to wake up, and fell asleep for a bit, then woke up to his smiling face. Not when I listen to Drew playing his "monkey game" in the other room and sniffling as he breathes because of his cold. Not when he is making up numbers - "Five-teen Momma!" All of this reminds me to be grateful - I have a great life - and that life is precious and meant to be cherished.

(If you want to read about Owen and his family, please visit his mom's blog - http://bissingfamily.wordpress.com)

Me, On a Diet

Not so much a diet, but a different approach to eating. One that involves more balance and willpower - and less processed foods. Maybe someday I will even be mostly eating "clean," I don't know. I am a work in progress, and do not expect to get there overnight. If you look back on previous posts, I probably have half a dozen dedicated to my struggle to lose weight, motivation and willpower and my thyroid issues. Enough excuses. Starting today (well, yesterday really), I am holding myself accountable for actually DOING something about it. And you are going to help me! I will document this journey on my blog - either weekly or a few times per week.

The back story -

When I became pregnant with Emmett late last June, I was overweight. Many were shocked to hear it, because apparently I hide weight well, but I was. I was baffled because I had been running since January and hadn't changed my diet. My thyroid issues, which were confirmed AFTER I was pregnant, were partly to blame. The other guilty party was myself - and my inability to stick to any program. This isn't news to anyone who knows me, or reads my blog, but I like to eat. I am Italian and, let's face it, we are encouraged to eat from a young age. To eat, but not get fat. An interesting dichotomy that, for me, has resulted in a love/hate relationship with my body and food. Whenever I cleaned my plate, I was praised. If I left something I was scolded. If I wanted something more, and I ate it, I was praised. If I asked for something more and left any part of it, I was scolded. So I learned to take more of the things I liked (usually not so healthy) and less of the things I didn't (usually healthier items). And I always cleaned my plate. Always. I knew nothing of correct portion sizes until the last few years. I ate my food in record time, like someone was chasing me, and usually ate way too much - and paid for it with stomach troubles later on.

When I became pregnant with Emmett, I obviously wasn't trying to lose weight. I was, however, trying to gain appropriately. I had started Weight Watchers the month before I became pregnant and followed the principles, but upped my points. And it was working! Then, the all day sickness kicked in and I ate whatever sounded good, just to be sure I was eating - usually crap from McDonald's or pizza or some such thing - when I could eat at all. While I didn't gain weight rapidly, it was a vicious cycle to be caught in. I had to actively work to eat a more balanced diet and get back to the WW principles after my 10 weeks of hell, I mean, sickness. To be honest, I did pretty well during my pregnancy. And, the short amount of time I was able to nurse allowed me to lose 99% of the weight I gained during that time. But here I am again, back where I started nearly one year ago. And I am sick of it.

So, off to boot camp I went early yesterday morning. I was up and ready to go at 4:45am - class starts at 5:30. I was energized! I was ready to get my sweat on and burn some fat. And that I did. In fact, I nearly puked. I am THAT out of shape. But, today, I feel awesome. I feel that healthy soreness you have when you're using muscles that haven't been used in far too long. I am looking forward to tomorrow even with the 4:45 wake up time! I know this is good for me and I am excited to shed pounds and get fit once again. I may never be a size 6 again in my life, but that's not important - being healthy is!

In addition, I am following both the WW meal plan and the meal plan suggested by the boot camp director. I am alternating weeks, so I don't get bored. Both simply promote a healthier way of eating - one that can and should last you a lifetime. I fully intend to follow the 80/20 principle once I get into my groove. The 80/20 principle states that 80% of the time, you're eating how you're supposed to eat, so that the other 20%, you can enjoy more indulgent foods. It's too soon to tell how the eating portion is working for me, but I rarely feel hungry and I am eating properly sized meals. It's all about balancing the food groups, and eating protein and fiber.

So, can I count on you to hold me accountable? I need all the help I can get!

(if you're local and interested - here is the boot camp website: http://www.mibootcamps.com/)

A Birth Story

Disclaimer - While I am on a roll with the blog posts, I figured I should finally share Emmett's birth story. If you don't like these types of stories, please feel free to skip this post! Also, I am a firm believer in epidurals and the medical establishment. So, if you don't agree with either, you may want to skip this as well... ;)

My body tried to go into labor for 3 days, starting Sunday night. I had a Dr's appt on Monday, and when my Dr. examined me, he told me I was 90% effaced and 3cm dilated. He figured I would go into labor overnight or on Tuesday some time, and he was on call, so I was excited (he was the same one who delivered Drew). My blood pressure was a little elevated, so he wanted me to make an appointment for Wednesday, just in case I didn't go into labor, to have my b.p. checked. Tuesday came and went, and brought with it more contractions, but nothing happened. I kept contracting on and off until my appointment on Wednesday afternoon. This appointment was with my second favorite doctor in the practice, my b.p. was fine, and when she checked me I was 4cm dilated and 100% effaced. She asked if I wanted her to strip my membranes and I told her "YES." So, she did (and this time it was painless) and sent me on my way. When I had this happen with Drew, I went into labor overnight - so I thought it would be hours before labor really kicked in.

I was wrong.

My appointment had been at 2:30 and by 3:30, I started contracting. By 4:30, they were consistently coming every 5-6 minutes and by 6:00, I was at the hospital. Now, any expectant mother will tell you that you do not want to be sent home from the hospital and be told it is "false labor," and for whatever reason, I was worried about that. I knew I was in labor, but I was still worried. I was admitted to triage and assessed - and was now 5cm dilated. There was no question that I was being admitted. I got to my room relatively quickly and received my epidural and IV. Then, they broke my water - and I nearly passed out. Emmett didn't like it either and his heart rate plummeted. I was turned on my left and given oxygen and we both rebounded. I thought the scary part was over.

I was wrong.

I went quickly from a 6 when they broke my water to a 10. My epidural wasn't working well, so instead of just pressure, I felt everything. I pushed for awhile and was told he was posterior, or facing up. "Crap!" I thought. This was the same position Drew was in, but they were able to turn him. It was very clear that Emmett would not be so easy to turn. So, after pushing for awhile, it was obvious he wasn't descending any further. I was miserable and felt stuck. They gave me the option to increase my epi and turn me on my left side to encourage him to move. I agreed. They increased the epi, turned me on my left side and propped me up with a ton of pillows. I was told this would last an hour and when I was consistently feeling pressure again to let them know. Twenty minutes later, I was feeling everything. So, I started pushing again - and guess what? Emmett was still posterior. I pushed for a bit and they told me they could try the vacuum to get him out as nothing else was working. I was hesitant, but agreed in the end.

It didn't work.

So, there I was, being prepped for what was quickly becoming an emergency c-section. They shot a bolus in my epi, gave me some nasty tasting stuff to calm my stomach acid, and wheeled me down the hall. I felt everything and screamed the entire trip to the OR. By this point, I had lost control and just screamed with every contraction. In the O.R, and without Bill, they prepped me for surgery. I was thrashing around so much they were afraid I was going to fall off the skinny table. And they soon realized I was feeling WAY more than I should be and was able to move when I shouldn't have been. SO, in rushes another anesthesiologist to take out my epi and put in another spinal. Talk about fun. Finally everything started to kick in, they began the c-section and Bill was able to join me.

The c-section was definitely an interesting experience. From all of the A Baby Story episodes I've seen in my lifetime, I knew you would feel pressure and tugging, but I had no idea you would feel like you were being jackhammered on the table. I was asked if I wanted to see Emmett being born, and of course I said yes, so they held a mirror over my belly and I watched him come into the world. And I cried. I cried with relief and out of love for him. I cried because, unlike Drew, I wasn't the first person to cradle him in my arms. I cried because he was very far away from me, and like Drew, had the quietest cry, so I could barely hear him. For some reason, Bill wasn't allowed to go over to him, so I had him stand up to keep an eye on Emmett and let me know how he was doing. I was convinced something was wrong, but he was fine - thank God. Soon they brought him to us, and Bill held him right up to my face so I could snuggle up with him. In recovery, I was finally able to hold him, and nurse him, and we started to bond.

So, there you have it. Apparently, I have really exciting birth stories. No boring entrances into the world for my little ones. They are making their presence known from the beginning.

I'm Just Going to Say It ...

Breast was NOT best for Emmett.

Now, before you all start flaming me, hear me out -

I am NOT saying breast isn't best - in general - if all the stars align, your baby latches without issue, you produce enough to satisfy said child, you have an incredibly patient older child who doesn't mind having next to no time with Mommy, you don't need time to yourself now and again and your child's system doesn't reject your breast milk. I think women who exclusively breastfeed are amazing - mainly because I can't wrap my head around how this actually works out for some when it hasn't for me - twice.

If you had asked me about breastfeeding before I had Drew, I wouldn't have thought twice about my answer. Of course I was going to breastfeed! I mean, who doesn't? Why would you deny your child the best food you could give him or her? Really, why WOULDN'T you do it? It is natural after all; it's what God intended our breasts to be used for.

And then I actually gave birth...

And had a child who couldn't nurse.

I experienced the stress of not getting the support I needed, of my supply going to hell, and all of the emotional trauma that comes with things not working out the way you thought they should - or would - and then being flamed by others who didn't get WHY you weren't breastfeeding, no matter how you explained the situation. I learned to never judge another mother, including a mother who simply does not WANT to breastfeed, because we all do what is best for our babies - and yes, that includes giving them formula.

Fast forward to my pregnancy with Emmett. Absolutely I was going to try again. I was praying about breastfeeding. "Please God, just let me be able to nurse this baby." And I was. And it was magical. But, it wasn't enough. We had many nights that first week home where he screamed for hours on end, unless he was suckling, because I wasn't producing enough. He only wanted me, and I was recovering from a c-section, so I was sore, exhausted and emotional. I was afraid of falling into the same pit of despair known as Postpartum Depression/Anxiety that I fell into after having Drew. So, we supplemented. And Emmett slept. And all was right with the world. Then, a few weeks later, he started having issues. He would scream and kick and clutch at me, Bill, anyone who was holding him about an hour after his meal had ended. He wouldn't nap. He was sleeping for crap again at night. He couldn't relax. He felt like total sh&t and it was obvious. I cut things out of my diet - and nothing. I switched his formula feedings to Similac Sensitive and he was a new baby after those feedings. Then, I would nurse him and the screaming would happen all over again. And so I made a decision - I decided to wean him completely. I needed to cut dairy completely out of my diet, and it hides in everything, so that was impossible. To me, at least. Maybe that makes me a bad mom in some people's eyes. I really don't care. I made a decision that was best for my baby, myself, and my family.

So there you have it moms struggling with the same issue. It is OK to go to formula full time. It is NOT the devil, it is NOT poison. It was created for a reason. Was it a cure-all to switch to formula feeding 100% of the time? Nope. We ended up switching bottles, giving gripe water, putting him on zantac and going from powdered formula to liquid concentrate in a desperate attempt to help Emmett not suffer after his meals. I think, THINK, we have found a system that works for him. Now if we could only solve our car seat dilemma ...

It Won't Be Like This For Long (Version 2.0)

This was the title of one of my first posts on my blog when Drew was a baby. It was my way of reminding myself that, one day, he was going to be all grown up ... and that the struggles of getting him to sleep through the night, etc, would be but a moment in time. Just like the song says. And that I would miss it - even if that was hard to imagine at the time. Well, guess what? I miss it. I miss Drew being a baby, a young toddler, and all the hugs and cuddles I used to get. As hard as it was to be up all the time, I miss those special moments in the middle of the night with him. Mainly I miss it because I get glimpses of the struggles that are to come, daily, and I long for a simpler time when he thought I hung the moon and didn't seek to defy me at every turn (don't we all!). I find it hard to embrace some of the behaviors he exhibits, or that it's me he chooses to challenge all the time, and that I've lost my cuddly little man to his father. Don't get me wrong, he still loves me and wants me to play with him - but it's reality that I am the one home with him, thus he knows I am there for him (and I discipline him more) and therefore I am the one he does battle with. I miss my sweet little baby, with the dimpled grin, who would seek me out above all others.

I have that with Emmett now, and I am trying to soak it up. But, I will be honest - I have hit my wall with middle of the night feedings and am looking forward to him sleeping until 5:00 or 6:00 consistently. I have to remind myself when his immature digestive system wreaks havoc on him, and my normally happy baby is crabby, or my good sleeper has a million wake ups during the night, that all too soon he will learn the word "no" and discover that Daddy is WAY more fun than Mommy - and I will miss these special days of being his world. For now, I am trying to slow down and enjoy watching him discover his world. To keep the night quiet and dark, but smile back at him when he flashes a grin at me during a diaper change or feeding at 4am. To hold him close to me, because he won't push me away, and take in every moment I have with him. Far too soon, he'll be off with Drew and Daddy, and Mommy will be old news ...

Blessings and Tough Decisions

Wow, it's been a very long time since I last wrote. I am not sure how I keep getting out of the habit of blogging, but I do. Since I last wrote, some important things have happened ...

On March 9th we welcomed our beautiful little blessing, Emmett Francis, into the world (that's him above this post; isn't he gorgeous?!). He entered the outside world at 11:40pm via c-section, as he just wasn't descending. Emmett weighed 9lbs 4oz and was 21 inches long and at nearly 8 weeks, he is now closing in on 12lbs and is nearly 23 inches. Yes, he's a big boy! But, he's long and lean and you would never know how much he weighs. He is a sweet boy, who has an easygoing personality most of the time. Unlike his big brother, however, he has definite opinions of things at this young age and isn't afraid to let you know what those opinions are! ;) Poor little man suffered from some major gastric issues for a bit, but we think we have them solved now (hopefully anyway!). He is a wonderful addition to our family and Drew has been an amazing big brother to him. Drew just loves Emmett to pieces! We are also pleased to say that Emmett is completely heart healthy. God is good and we are in love.

I have a bit of sad news to report, however. The board of our local chapter of It's My Heart decided to disaffiliate from national IMH. Due to some changes, we just didn't feel that we would be able to carry out our local mission and serve our local community the way we wanted to any longer. So, with heavy hearts, we made this decision. We definitely miss being of service in a tangible way to the local CHD community, but we all remain committed to fighting CHD and raising awareness in our own ways. And who knows, maybe one day we'll collaborate on something else! In the meantime, I am happy to say I have made some wonderful friends and those friendships continue. For that, I am very thankful.

So, I hope I will actually keep up with this. I am planning on returning to sewing and scrapbooking, two things I really got away from during my pregnancy for whatever reasons (read all day sickness for 12 weeks), and want to post the projects on here. Drew will be turning 3 very soon, a blessing for sure. Every day we are reminded how blessed our family is when we see his smiling face and discipline his mischievious self. ;) We are very busy with summer plans, including Drew's upcoming birthday party, Emmett's baptism and my dear friend Karyn's wedding. I am hopeful that we will enjoy good weather and plenty of time outdoors during our all too short summer season. I am looking forward to long walks, playing outside with the boys, Zoo concerts and just being outside at dusk - my favorite time of the day in summer. C'mon summer!!