Parenthood: “They” Say a lot but “They” Never Said This

*New chapter in life, new blog title, same me :)

When Evan was little the phrase, “well they say,” or “they said that” flew around our house multiple times a day. It actually has become something we joke about as Evan grows older and we grow more comfortable in our new roles as parents. 

They told us there would be many sleepless nights and that our lives would be forever changed. They told us we would be challenged in new ways and that the rewards of these challenges were great. Becoming a parent has been a humbling experience. My priorities have changed, my prayers at night have changed, what’s important to me has changed. “They” were right about all of those things but what “they” never said was this: 

“They” never said, likely because it is so hard to adequately describe, is how your feelings of fear and love will evolve into emotions that are now suddenly intertwined and are so strong you hardly recognize them.

This fear appears in the form of illness and pain and hurt feelings and your own ability to provide for all of your child’s needs. It’s a fear that has the potential to be crippling, yet as a parent you somehow never fall to its pull on your heart. 

This love is so great that you feel your heart could burst at any moment but somehow it never does. It’s a love so strong that when the new fear sets in you feel a physical ache in your heart that sinks all the way into your stomach. 

This fear and this love extends beyond your own children. You suddenly develop a level of sympathy for other parents facing and living out these fears that you can’t begin to imagine what they are going through without the return of an ache in your own heart for them. 

I remember when Evan was a few days old and we were at home with both sets of grandparents. It was a particularly warm fall day and Evan got so hot from the combination of his clothes, the outside temperature and being passed around, that he started to get a rash on his stomach. I started to feel a panic set in and as I began to strip his clothes from him tears were filling my eyes. Aaron said, “Why are you crying, he’s just warm, he’s ok.” To which I whispered back, “I never want anything to happen to him.” In this moment I experienced for the first time something that is now so familiar, this new intertwined emotion of love and fear. 

Being a parent is in fact scary and challenging and mysterious and sometimes even exhausting. But being a parent, even with this new understanding of fear and love, is also awesome. It's crazy beautiful and incredibly awesome. 

-Much love friends

They're Only Little Once

When I was eight months pregnant with Evan we had a small bar-b-que at our house with my parents, my sister-in-law, niece and a few of my parent's friends whom I've known all of my life. 

One of my parents friends taught my niece to say, "I'm only little once" as a response to being told no when she wanted to do something, like sleep in bed with her mom when my brother is away on fires :). It was, of course, very cute.

Then the other night Aaron came in our room to check on me and Evan after I had gotten him to sleep.  I was holding Evan much like I did for the first time when I was in recovery after his birth and Aaron echoed that exact saying, "they're only little once". 

Suddenly I found myself reflecting on all the moments in the last four months where I've told myself "if we can just get through this part we can do this: the c-section recovery, the breastfeeding struggles, the infections, the colic, the refusal to be put down, the only sleep when held phase, the unexplained tremors when feeding that landed us at Children's for an afternoon, the dairy allergy, the bloody diapers, the acid reflux (oh the acid reflux!)...... and suddenly I felt sad because they really are only little once.  

As challenging as those times were, they were also the times when Evan was the littlest he will have ever been.  There may have been more tears than smiles then, but when I think about those challenging times all I can do is smile because we are doing this.

We might be parents to a child who has to be held upright for his first hour of sleep to prevent acid from burning his throat (and the banshee screams that accompany it) but we are also parents to a child who loves us unconditionally already, who is days away from laughing and rolling over and eating solid foods and sleeping through the night (ok that one might be dayssss away).

And if you're a parent, you are doing it too.  You are doing a good job. I'm telling you because sometimes we just need to hear that. Good job to you and you and you.

Night friends.

September

October

November

December

January

Life Unfiltered

*This is intended to be a lighthearted/humorous post on life with our "high needs, cows milk enzyme allergy" (according to his pediatrician) almost three month old.

How is it that our little string bean is almost three months old?!  Today was one of those days that had the potential to be completely mentally and emotionally exhausting but for whatever reason, maybe it's the lack of sleep, everything has been funny.

5:30 AM Evan wakes up jibber jabbering in is co-sleeper next to our bed.  Aaron tries to put him back to sleep but Evan wants none of that, he thinks he's ready to start his day and hour and a half early.

8:00 AM it's time for nap number one. Evan sleeps until 11:00 which is great minus the fact that he won't sleep well unless he's held. And by held I don't mean in a sling or an ergo (unless I'm simultaneously vaccuming) because heaven forbid this kid be restrained in any way shape or form.  The De Quervain's tendinitis I have in both of my wrists now can attest to this.

11:30 I throw myself together enough to make a "quick" trip to the grocery store.  

11:40 Evan starts screaming in his new car seat.  He thinks the new car seat is the bees knees as long as mom is sitting next to him and rubbing his feet.  I haven't tried it, but I'm pretty sure driving from the back seat is illegal and dangerous so, blood vessel bursting screams it is (not once, not twice but three times.)

11:55 Arrive at the store and feed Evan before going inside.

12:25 Put Evan in the Ergo and brave the store. Evan is a little angel and I say a quick thanks to the man upstairs. Then Evan projectile spits up about 1/4 cup of milk and mucus on my chest and down my shirt. Acid reflux: the struggle is real.

12:50 Try to checkout but my debit card doesn't work because my bank deactivated it when they sent me a new card. You know, the new card that's on the counter at home. Luckily I have a back up and we're on our way.

12:55 Load the groceries and strap Evan into his torture seat. Just as I realize I'm crushing the eggs with my foot a sweet older man walks across the lot and offers to return my cart for me. Again I say a quick thanks to the man upstairs.

1:05 Evan's screaming returns.

1:20 Arrive safe and sound at home. Go to get Evan out of his seat and his tears/screams immediately turn into a giant smile when he sees me coming to get him. This kid.

You guys it's only 1:30 and I find myself channeling my inner Clark Griswold with a "Hallelujah. Holy Shit! Where's the Tylenol?!" 

But you know what? If being Evan's mom means that every day is exactly like today or even worse, I'd still sign myself up for the job

because:

-When Evan smiles at Aaron every night he comes home and says "hi buddy" to him

-When Evan rolled over for the first time on his own this week

-When Evan is loved on by his cousins and he smiles as big as he can, and they do too

-When Evan lays on the floor and coos at my grandma who, at 94, gets down on the floor with him 

-And when Evan pats his little hand on my chest just before he falls asleep at night as if to say, "thanks Mom"

makes it all worth it. Every last, stare into your eyes and scream into your soul during his colicky hours (that have now passed we hope), minute of it.

So to the moms who too find themselves channeling their inner Mr. Griswold, you are not alone, don't let the cheerful baby that floods my Instagram feed fool you. But it does get better, I promise :)

We literally try to get him to sleep anywhere, supervised. This lasted long enough for me to eat a cutie.

-XO friends 

Parental Intuition

This post is pretty raw but I've never been a blogger to mask real life with social media sunshine so here  we go.....

Evan was born 9 weeks and one day ago today.  When he was born I didn't think twice about breastfeeding, it  was something I had decided to commit to long before Evan was even born.

Two bouts of  mastitis, twenty days of antibiotics, countless capsules of fenugreek, gallons of mother's milk tea, and tablespoons of mother's milk drops later we have a child who was technically classified as failing to thrive because he has dropped to the 2nd percentile in weight.

Insert my broken heart here.

Evan has never been a big baby. Being born at 6lbs 4oz and leaving the hospital at 5lbs and 14oz, he started out small and was on a strict feed every two hours schedule.  We stuck to the schedule and yet Evan always seemed hungry to Aaron and I.  We expressed these concerns with doctors and they said his behaviors were the result of acid reflux and assured us there was no way he could possibly be hungry because he was steadily gaining weight.  So, we trudged on with a fussy baby who we swore was hungry and fought our intuition because the medical professionals told us Evan was fine.  

He was fine until they began to chart his weight that is.  Turns out that although he's been gaining weight, he's been steadily falling lower and lower on the growth chart since he was three weeks old and if the trend continues he will actually fall off the curve by his next appointment.  

Enter supplementing stage left. Three extra ounces in the morning, three extra ounces in the evening to start.

So as I type I find myself staring at a bottle of Reglan and a canister of Similac Organic formula trying to decide what we are going to do when our very small stash of freezer breast milk is gone. 

Reglan is a prescription usually used for GI tract issues but has lactation listed as a "unlikely" side effect and is a strong medication that you have to be weened off of once you've begun taking it.  If it works my body should be able to produce what Evan needs and we can continue to avoid using formula.  If it doesn't work I've simply exposed myself to more chemicals and the risk of other side effects of the medication that mimic Parkinson's disease.  So what do you do?  There is a huge part of me that feels like if I was meant to exclusively breastfeed God wouldn't put me in a position to have to resort to prescription drugs as a last ditch effort but then the mom in me want's to say I literally tried it all.

I'm not sure if I should feel grateful or bitter towards the social guilt associated with the use of formula.  On the one hand it's part of what has encouraged me to try nearly everything in my power to succeed at breastfeeding but on the other hand the pressure to exclusively breastfeed from both society and the medical community has also contributed to Evan's poor weight gain and my feelings of desperation and failure.  Believe me, I fully understand the benefits of breastfeeding and am fully supportive of the concept......when it works.  And for some, maybe it just doesn't work and maybe that just needs to be accepted as okay.

In a world of mom-shamers I am so thankful to be surrounded by fellow moms who have been nothing but supportive and encouraging.  At this point I'm still undecided in regards to what path we'll take next  but I'm just a few feedings shy of being forced to choose.   

In the meantime I'll just bask in our string bean son's cute smiles and new sunny disposition courtesy of a full belly and trust that when the time actually comes we will know what to do. 

Until next time friends......

Our little sugar cookie angel

Post two month appointment snuggles

Finally not screaming in his car seat!

Evan's Birth Story...an Abbreviated Version

I've thought about sitting down and writing Evan's birth story almost a million times but every time prior to this I would sit down to actually write and just end up crying. Thank you, post partum hormones.  They certainly weren't sad tears though, they were some of the happiest tears I've ever shed. Part of me also felt reluctant to write because we had a c-section.  Our story doesn't include hours of natural labor or the joy of immediate skin to skin contact with me, but in the end it's still just as special to us, and so I wrote.......

Wednesday September 17th, 2014 started out like any other day minus the fact that it was supposed to be the day before Evan's birthday, not his actual birthday.  We had grand plans of going to breakfast, seeing a movie and enjoying the last day of just "us", of course those plans changed. Aaron and I woke up around 6:15 and wandered out onto our front patio to check on the landscaping we had just planted the day before. Since I knew we wouldn't be going to breakfast right away I headed back into the house to eat some watermelon to hold me over.  As I was opening the refrigerator I felt a strange pain and then realized I either peed myself, so glamorous, or my water had broke.  Aaron was in the living room when I said something to the effect of, "Um, Aaron you need to come in here."  In he walks and upon seeing the liquid on the floor looks up to the ceiling, where our plumbing is, thinking our pipes were leaking! (One of my favorite parts of our story)

Once what was happening sank in for us both we called the hospital, grabbed our bags and headed out the door.  Naturally this put us on the road during rush hour so a drive that would have taken forty minutes ended up taking an hour and twenty minutes.  We pulled into the parking garage at 8:19 and as we approached the hospital entrance I remember thinking, wow, this is really it.

We checked in at the front desk and then were immediately sent up to triage and hooked up to monitors.  There was some concern regarding a dip in Evan's heart rate with each contraction and once it was determined that I was in fact in labor, and that Evan was infact still breech, things began to move very quickly. I signed a bunch of waivers for the surgery, met my surgeon, and up another floor we went to pre-op.  In pre-op there were more forms to fill out, most of which Aaron did for me while I worked through contractions and got my IV.  I'm not entirely sure how long we were in the pre-op room, I'd like to say maybe 15 minutes or so, when in barged the anesthesiologist who quickly began shouting about how the surgeons were ready, how they needed me in there now and why were things taking so long.  I had to drink some really nasty liquid, Aaron was given scrubs to put on, and off we went to the OR.  

Once we entered the hall where the operating rooms were it seemed very cold and the reality of what was about to happen, and how our son would be entering the world in a way that seemed somehow less "special" at the time, really hit me.  Aaron and I were separated as I was wheeled into the OR and he was sent to wait in a hall across the way until surgery began.  Upon entering the OR I was greeted by no less than ten faces, all of whom stopped and looked at me as the anesthesiologist announced who I was and why I was there.

"We have Katie Beucus here. 26 year old female with a primary Caesarian as a result of breech presentation, do we agree?" And in unison all faces staring at me said, "Yes, we agree" before returning to their tasks.  

Before I knew it I was up on the table with a needle in my spine.  I was so scared and all I kept thinking about was how I wish Aaron was there to hold my hand.  Once I was numb I was laid down and Aaron was brought in to sit at my head.  With tears building in my eyes I remember asking him to just talk to me about anything because I was scared and needed to be distracted, so talk to me he did, about what I can't remember.

The surgeon announced she was starting, and after a surprising amount of tugging, pushing and grunting, at 11:50 AM, all 6 pounds 4 ounces and 19.5 inches of Evan Ray Beucus was born and welcomed with a chorus of Happy Birthday from the medical staff.

I remember looking over at where Evan was and asking why he wasn't crying but as soon as the words left my mouth a scream left his.  Aaron stepped away from my side for just a moment and retured with our son in arms.  I'll never forget about Aaron telling me how he has hair and it's dark like it was in my dreams or about watching Aaron gaze at our son with such amazement.  I'll never forget about seeing Evan's face for the first time or about Aaron bringing him in close so I could touch his cheeks and kiss his forehead.  The remaining four days in the hospital were a complete blur and if I'm being entirely honest, these first weeks home have been too but in a good way.

Here's where this post gets all sentimental and mushy, something you know I rarely do, but Evan's story wouldn't be complete without it.

They say it takes a village to raise a child, a saying I can now fully appreciate. 

I have been blessed with the most patient, caring and selfless individual for a husband.  Recovering from a c-section with a newborn is not easy.  Add to that an infection that caused me to have a 102* fever, not once but twice in our first four weeks home, and I'd be the first to admit our new life was down right hard.  But Aaron was there, changing every diaper, rocking Evan to sleep in the middle of the night after every feeding, taking me to doctor appointments, cooking us meals, making sure I took my medications and supporting and encouraging me every single day.

Then there's our incredible friends and family.  Those who brought us meals, did our grocery shopping, offered words of encouragement, mowed our lawn, swept our patio, insisted on watching Evan so we could celebrate our wedding anniversary out of the house and simply held Evan so I could do things like laundry.  I am, and will forever be so grateful for our village.

Until next time friends.....

Baby B: The 5 Day Countdown

To say that it has been forever and a day since I last wrote would be quite the understatement!  I think this is the part as a blogger where I'm supposed to apologize for being MIA, provide excuses for my absence and then pinky promise I'll write more often.  So, I'm sorry I fell off the face of cyber space, life has been insanely busy and I'd love to promise to write more often in the near future but who am I kidding, I only have 5 more full days left until Evan rocks our world in the best way possible and 

Evan > writing.  How is that for a run on sentence?!

Yes. Five. More. Days. and I can say this with quite a bit of confidence because we have an "elective" c-section scheduled for next week.  Can we talk about this whole "elective" term for a second though? It's my blog so yes, yes we can and we will.

When I hear of an elective surgery I think of liposuction, tummy tucks, breast augmentations and nose jobs.  On the contrary, I do not think of c-sections required for medical reasons, as is our case, as elective because, really, they aren't.  I'm not having a c-section because I have a traumatic fear of childbirth or am overwhelmingly concerned about peeing myself for weeks after delivery due to the incontinence it can cause.  I'm having a c-section because Evan is breech.  His hard noggin has been the source of the intense upper abdominal pain I've been experiencing since 24 weeks and has been repeatedly confirmed during biweekly and then weekly ultrasounds that started at 29 weeks.

 We've tried various ways to get the little guy to turn (chiropractic, exercises recommended by Spinning Babies, etc.) but opted against trying to have him manually turned.  As a first time mom the odds of an ECV being successful was around 50%.  Pair that with the risks to myself and Evan (placental abruption, fetal distress, cord entanglement) that would result in an emergency c-section anyway and we just weren't sold on the idea.  We did our research, consulted various resources and made a decision we feel confident in.

All that being said, I'm still apprehensive about letting myself get excited about the idea of meeting Evan so soon simply because if he magically turns last minute, the surgery will be canceled and we will  join all of those expecting parents who get to play the waiting game.  A "turn" of events like that could mean we don't meet for a week or two longer.  It's highly unlikely but not impossible :)

Here's the lowdown on baby and I at 39 weeks:

Movement: Quarters are pretty cramped for the little guy these days but I sill feel lots of squirms, wiggles and hiccups.  We play music for Evan every night and he seems to really love it.  It has been fun to watch his head and feet move in response to the noise and is something I think I'll miss once he's born. Aaron missed a lot of the end of this pregnancy because of work so I'm glad this has been something he can experience too.  It's been fun to see his reactions to the movements and the hilarious one liners that tend to accompany them.

Symptoms:  Left hip pain (where his little butt cheeks have settled) and upper abdominal/back pain where his head is resting cozily. Those aside, heartburn has been minimal, I haven't been nauseous and my coffee aversion has only returned on two occasions.

Food Favorites: Watermelon and strawberries I suppose.  As odd as it may sound I haven't had any true, go to the store in the middle of the night because I have to have it, cravings.  Boring I know.  I have tried a few foods I have never had before though that I'd like to blame on being pregnant like a DQ Blizzard and barkTHINS.  The blizzard, meh.  The barkTHINS, now those require some self restraint. I want to eat them all.

Weight: I gained a total of 27lbs and have held at that for the last week or so which my doctor said is pretty common near the end.  25-35lbs was the recommended target set by my doctor so since she's not complaining, neither am I!

Sleep: Sleep comes in 2-3 hour intervals these days.  If anything at least my body will already be somewhat acclimated to that weird schedule once Evan is here :)

And now I'll leave you with a nursery tour.  We need to hang curtains and the growth chart, and are waiting for the mobile arm to arrive for the crib, but since Evan will be in our room at first, I'm not in the least bit stressed about those little details.

The new "old" dresser refurbished by Aaron for Evan

Our cozy corner

And Marley, photobombing Evan's room. Her new favorite room in the house.

-Until next time friends.

Cyber Coffee Date & A Pregnant Lady PSA

If we were to meet up for coffee…………

I would likely be drinking some sort of fluffy decaf latte that tastes nothing like real coffee because well, if I can’t have the benefit of caffeine, I might as well make sure I’m really enjoying my drink.

Then we’d probably catch up on life things and this is what I’d likely share with you:

·         My office is moving next month and I’m hoping my commute will improve as a result.  I anticipate the morning drive to be about the same but the afternoon drive should be almost a half hour shorter and any improvement is a plus in my book!

·         I’ll let you in on a secret; summer is probably my least favorite season.  I’ll give you a moment to gasp in horror……..Ok moment over.  It’s not that I don’t like summer; it’s just my least favorite of the four seasons.  Two things I do love about summer though are the long daylight hours and walking out into our garden to pick fresh vegetables.  This year we planted: zucchini, crook neck squash, corn, cucumber, butternut squash, watermelon, pumpkins, tomatoes, a blueberry bush and a strawberry plant.  We also have an apple tree with fruit on it, but our nectarines and peaches won’t produce until next year.  Naturally the week after we plant the temps have been in the 70’s-80’s during the day and then hitting the mid 30’s at night!  I hope our little crops stay strong because I can’t wait for all of the delicious organic produce we’ll have this year!

·         Our new patio is in and despite not having real patio furniture yet; we’ve managed to enjoy dinner outside 4-5 evenings a week and love it.

·         We’ve moved on to planting our lawn and I had no idea what a process that can be.  This weekend we (and when I say we I mean Aaron) have plans to possibly rototill the space and then the sprinkler system will go in.  We have to water the space for a week to see if any weeds grow and if they do, we have to kill them.  Once the weeding phase is over we can plant the seed (25 pounds worth!) and watch it grow…..for 6-8 weeks.  Apparently we have to start mowing the “lawn” after the first 10 days but it takes almost 2 months to fully mature.  Looks like we’re still on track to have it ready before Evan gets here but like most things this time of year, we’re just taking it a day at a time.

·         Speaking of Evan, he has a crib now and some pretty sweet t-shirts.  Aaron has a small collection of favorite shirts that I would classify as “unique”.  I figured it was only fitting to start a small collection for Evan.  The kid moves all over the place and kicks or hits or knees or elbows hard enough for others to feel now too.  He’s about 13 inches long now (the length of a celery stalk) and weighs over a pound.  According to the baby books Evan knows my voice and the voices of other family members now but I think he prefers Aaron’s voice over mine these days because whenever he’s talking Evan becomes really active. 

·         On the mom front, I’m at 25 weeks and 10 pounds gained.  My hip isn’t bothering me anymore which has made sleeping much easier and aside from feeling hungry ALL the time with occasional bout of heart burn, things are still going pretty great.  

The other night I had a dream I was eating Lucky Charms and woke up starving at 2AM.  Needless to say I bought my first (and probably only) single serve box of Lucky Charms the next day and ate them for dessert that night.  I’m also particularly fond of stuffed green olives these days, so weird, and these mini little ice cream cones have been a go to for my post dinner treat.  

  

·         And now for a miniature pregnant lady rant.  I’d like to preface this with the fact that as a whole, the general population has been incredibly kind and supportive of me as a pregnant lady for which I am incredibly grateful.  Also, if you read this and find you’ve said any of these things to me, I mean no offense to you, I’m very much aware that you were likely coming from a good place.  That being said, this rant is more of a PSA in case you find yourself in the presence of a pregnant woman and would like to spare yourself from the daggers that could potentially pierce you as they shoot out from her eyes while she tries to politely smile after one of the below comments is made.  It seems like people turn their vocabulary and judgment filters off the moment a pregnant lady walks into a room. 

o   The words “big” and “huge” tend to be ill received and shouldn't be used to describe a woman who is currently busy GROWING A HUMAN BEING.  She already knows she’s big; she’s the one who can’t see her feet anymore and has to buy stretchy clothes because going to work or out in public naked is frowned upon.  Something like, “Wow, I can’t believe how much you've grown” is received much differently than, “Oh my gosh!  Look how big you are!” or “Wow, you’re huge.”  Ask Google, they’ll tell you the same thing, you've been warned. 

o   If you are the partner of a pregnant lady (husband, boyfriend, wife, girlfriend, whatever) I would not recommend describing a new beer as, “Smooth and full bodied like my wife.”  Luckily I've maintained most of my sense of humor so far and found this one liner particularly hilarious, but it’s risky to make such comparisons so if your other half has temporarily lost their sense of humor, tread lightly.

o   You ate what? With what?  She’s pregnant, if she wants to dip non-organic potato chips into non-organic ranch dressing one time, just let the woman do it.  She really does not need to hear how many calories that must have been or how those chips were full of hydrogenated oils and the ranch dressing probably had genetically modified ingredients.  It’s not like she’s out doing cocaine or smoking or drinking, you might think it’s all the same but I promise you, it’s on the list of things she doesn't want to be lectured about.  In general we eat as many organic and/or natural things as we can in our house and even I would never have this conversation with a pregnant lady.  I ate Lucky Charms for heaven’s sake. Lucky Charms! No stone throwing from this glass house.

o   And last but not least, you probably shouldn't ask, “Are you exercising? Because you know that’s really important when you’re pregnant.”   What even posed that question in the first place?  Is she SO big that she just looks like she hasn't gotten off her pregnant butt to move around so you felt inclined to subliminally project your thoughts on pregnancy and exercise through a question?  OK this one was said to me, not once but twice. For the record, this pregnant lady ran her first half marathon in under 2.5 hours with a strained IT band and an SI joint injury during this very pregnancy, so yes, she exercises.

On that note, after I talked your ear off and politely listened to you talk mine off we’d part ways until another time.   I hope this finds all who visit my tiny space of the internet doing well!

–Until next time