I know corny! Very very corny.
However as I am a bad blogger I had no choice... the song popped into my head.
This will be my yearly review, but it is so different from previous years. There are no miscarriages in it... That's a great thing, but also an unusual thing. This year is truly full of highs rather than lows and I am so thankful for that. We do still have a few low things, but not like years past.
January - breastfeeding actually becomes a reality rather than a theory
February- I broke my toe by dropping a turkey on it... not my finest hour
March- Fairly uneventful gearing up for SD's baptism.
April - SD gets baptized and sees D's famdamily...
SD Starts crawling and tries rice cereal for the first time...
May - Nephew competes in OM and goes on to World's competition... a pic of their lucky charm SD goes with them as does the T-shirt!
June - We survive another day before my birthday without anything bad happening. It's time to reclaim the day.
July - Another family trip... with 6 dogs and a baby. No we won't be doing this frequently as a trip with 6 dogs and a baby sucks.
August - My Mom is diagnosed with Fuch's dystrophy
My son turns 1... what a wonderful year it has been
I make it to a year breastfeeding - never would have thought that was
possible....
September - 4 years of marriage to the best man for me...
October - The end of the 6 dog era... my loving companion Chance is put to sleep... a hole is left in my heart, but he is in a better place...
A tooth finally erupts in SD's mouth - shocking!
November - 3 more teeth show up for a total of 4.
Ernie's tumors turn out to be cancerous, but they were all clear margins so
he's cured.
December - First hospitalization... it sucks. Breastfeeding still going strong.
Second Christmas - survive without incident... and dish network shows up
at our house... the end of the nonsatellite tv ends.
So the year 2008 has been great for the most part. I'm going to endeavor to be here in my blog more so than last year... but I won't make any guarantees. Know that I'm reading. Even when not posting or commenting.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
First Hospitalization...
Sorry this is an after the fact kind of update... but we here at the casa de canine have been busy and ill. It all started the week before Thanksgiving when I became ill. We'll just say a GI bug hit me and then proceeded to hit the household.
Friday night after turkey day Squeaker came down with it. I thought we could muscle our way through it. Of course he had it worse than either D or myself. Our bugs lasted 2 days and were done... by Monday December 1st, Squeaker was starting to resemble a limp noodle and I cried uncle and took him to the pediatrician.
As a PICU nurse I've seen kids dehydrated... and knew my son was dehyrdated. Making the situation apparent to D was well... I somehow didn't convey the gravity of the situation or he would have gone with me to the pediatrician. When we weighed our Squeaker he was down a pound from his last visit... and well my son really doesn't have a pound to lose. Taking a closer look at him he was to put it mildly - moderately dehydrated and the pediatrician was hopeful we could just tank him up and go home.
Since D hadn't gone with me to the doctor I had to call him. Because by golly if I'm going to have to see my baby poked with an IV so is he. D took 6 phone calls to wake up (he'd worked the night before). By the time he answered I had gone from nice wife to incredibly pissed off wife - I'm sure all of you have been there before right? We decided I would drive home, pick up D and head to the ER.
By the time we got to the ER poor Squeaker was looking even more punky. I had then started to kick myself for not bringing him on Sunday. My baby was pitiful and didn't throw much of a fight up for the IV start or other things that had to be done. I had at that point realized we were probably not going to be going home and D still was clueless about that particular aspect until the ER doc came in and said that Squeakers labs were awful and we were going to be staying.
All in all we were in the ER maybe 2 hours total before we were taken to a room. Squeaker was still pretty fragile when we got to the room, but was doing a bit better. It's amazing what a little bit of fluid will do for a baby but he definitely needed the fluids.
D went home and I was left to be with Squeaker. The nurses were wonderful. I couldn't have asked for a nicer bunch. The hospital itself was wonderful too. We were able to be released Tuesday afternoon and came home. Squeaker was still battling the GI bug but was a bit better.
This bug lasted 12 days... let me just say it was awful. We're only just now getting back to normal in the last 2 days. I hated seeing my son feel so punky and ill and it made me thankful for knowing what was what because I can't even imagine how I would have felt without that knowledge.
So now we're done disinfecting the house. We're able to go out in public again... and hope to see Santa in the next few days.
Friday night after turkey day Squeaker came down with it. I thought we could muscle our way through it. Of course he had it worse than either D or myself. Our bugs lasted 2 days and were done... by Monday December 1st, Squeaker was starting to resemble a limp noodle and I cried uncle and took him to the pediatrician.
As a PICU nurse I've seen kids dehydrated... and knew my son was dehyrdated. Making the situation apparent to D was well... I somehow didn't convey the gravity of the situation or he would have gone with me to the pediatrician. When we weighed our Squeaker he was down a pound from his last visit... and well my son really doesn't have a pound to lose. Taking a closer look at him he was to put it mildly - moderately dehydrated and the pediatrician was hopeful we could just tank him up and go home.
Since D hadn't gone with me to the doctor I had to call him. Because by golly if I'm going to have to see my baby poked with an IV so is he. D took 6 phone calls to wake up (he'd worked the night before). By the time he answered I had gone from nice wife to incredibly pissed off wife - I'm sure all of you have been there before right? We decided I would drive home, pick up D and head to the ER.
By the time we got to the ER poor Squeaker was looking even more punky. I had then started to kick myself for not bringing him on Sunday. My baby was pitiful and didn't throw much of a fight up for the IV start or other things that had to be done. I had at that point realized we were probably not going to be going home and D still was clueless about that particular aspect until the ER doc came in and said that Squeakers labs were awful and we were going to be staying.
All in all we were in the ER maybe 2 hours total before we were taken to a room. Squeaker was still pretty fragile when we got to the room, but was doing a bit better. It's amazing what a little bit of fluid will do for a baby but he definitely needed the fluids.
D went home and I was left to be with Squeaker. The nurses were wonderful. I couldn't have asked for a nicer bunch. The hospital itself was wonderful too. We were able to be released Tuesday afternoon and came home. Squeaker was still battling the GI bug but was a bit better.
This bug lasted 12 days... let me just say it was awful. We're only just now getting back to normal in the last 2 days. I hated seeing my son feel so punky and ill and it made me thankful for knowing what was what because I can't even imagine how I would have felt without that knowledge.
So now we're done disinfecting the house. We're able to go out in public again... and hope to see Santa in the next few days.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Update of Sorts...
There are many things going on at the now 5 dog and a baby household... namely did I mention the 4 teeth we have here? No... oh I've been remiss.
On October 19th Squeaker decided to be a giant crank. To be exact he screamed the entire night. No - not kidding... there was maybe an hour there that he didn't. This was with tylenol and motrin on board for another complaint. Thankfully I had had the psychic ability to deduce it was going to be a shitty night and made D stay home. I was able to share the love so to speak with D so that each of us could get an hour here or there to sleep while the other cared for the screaming inconsolable Squeaker. The next morning during breakfast I put my finger in Squeakers mouth and was shocked to find... not 1 tooth like he'd had, but 4 teeth. Yes - we teethed 3 teeth in one night. It sucked. So at 14.5 months he has 4 teeth. He's also still under 20 lbs... to be exact at the last ped appt he weighed in at 19 lbs 9 oz. Still not into table food but getting better. Who knew feeding your toddler would be such a pain in the ass? I had no clue that's for sure.
In other news... Ernie had some growths removed from his side during a dental cleaning. We're waiting on the histology results - hopefully the margins are clear and we can just focus on Ernie being a dog. My mom is beside herself while I am cautiously optimistic that it's nothing to worry about. So some prayers are welcomed that they are just benign growths as we really don't need to be dealing with the other alternative. Ernie is forlorn right now as he has to wear the stupid elizabethian collar since he won't quit licking his sides. He'll have the stitches removed in about 2 weeks. Until then the collar stays on and he looks like Eeyore with it on. So sad.
In even other news... we are going to be getting dish TV... we had tried to suck it up through the digital conversion from analog - bought new antenna, the converter boxes, etc and yet as if to say screw you - the digital tv gods laughed at me when the cold windy weather hit and our tv channels were cut down by about 50%. My mom who is going to be living with us a good majority of the winter can not survive without certain tv programs (no not Je.rry Spr.inger more like Ju.dge Ju.dy) so in an effort to keep that front happy I caved and finally consented to allowing a satellite tv provider into our home. I'm not happy about it... and am kicking and screaming my way through it.
I have made some efforts to prepare myself for the holiday season. Christmas cards are ordered. A friend of ours took Squeaker's picture and they turned out fabulously... so we had a great photo to use.
This of course is not the picture, but it's from the photo shoot...
On October 19th Squeaker decided to be a giant crank. To be exact he screamed the entire night. No - not kidding... there was maybe an hour there that he didn't. This was with tylenol and motrin on board for another complaint. Thankfully I had had the psychic ability to deduce it was going to be a shitty night and made D stay home. I was able to share the love so to speak with D so that each of us could get an hour here or there to sleep while the other cared for the screaming inconsolable Squeaker. The next morning during breakfast I put my finger in Squeakers mouth and was shocked to find... not 1 tooth like he'd had, but 4 teeth. Yes - we teethed 3 teeth in one night. It sucked. So at 14.5 months he has 4 teeth. He's also still under 20 lbs... to be exact at the last ped appt he weighed in at 19 lbs 9 oz. Still not into table food but getting better. Who knew feeding your toddler would be such a pain in the ass? I had no clue that's for sure.
In other news... Ernie had some growths removed from his side during a dental cleaning. We're waiting on the histology results - hopefully the margins are clear and we can just focus on Ernie being a dog. My mom is beside herself while I am cautiously optimistic that it's nothing to worry about. So some prayers are welcomed that they are just benign growths as we really don't need to be dealing with the other alternative. Ernie is forlorn right now as he has to wear the stupid elizabethian collar since he won't quit licking his sides. He'll have the stitches removed in about 2 weeks. Until then the collar stays on and he looks like Eeyore with it on. So sad.
In even other news... we are going to be getting dish TV... we had tried to suck it up through the digital conversion from analog - bought new antenna, the converter boxes, etc and yet as if to say screw you - the digital tv gods laughed at me when the cold windy weather hit and our tv channels were cut down by about 50%. My mom who is going to be living with us a good majority of the winter can not survive without certain tv programs (no not Je.rry Spr.inger more like Ju.dge Ju.dy) so in an effort to keep that front happy I caved and finally consented to allowing a satellite tv provider into our home. I'm not happy about it... and am kicking and screaming my way through it.
I have made some efforts to prepare myself for the holiday season. Christmas cards are ordered. A friend of ours took Squeaker's picture and they turned out fabulously... so we had a great photo to use.
This of course is not the picture, but it's from the photo shoot...
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Goodbye Old Friend...
Today was awful... Chance had to be put to sleep... my dog... The dog who was there for me through everything... The dog who almost had me disowned.
12 years ago I purchased a beautiful miniature dachshund who was red dapple in color. I was 18 and I spent an exorbitant amount of money purchasing this dog. My mother when she heard the news threatened to disown me. He also convinced my mom not to disown me by running around the house with a newspaper over his head, running into a table and yelping like the puppy that he was. He eventually moved into my apartment with me and managed to scare off any number of bad boyfriends by doing various things such as eating a wallet, their shoes, peeing on them, coming between us when the guy went to kiss me. He loved my husband and didn't do any of those things to him. Chance had managed to survive back problems that caused numbness, two attacks by Megan and a kidney ailment. Chance was my baby before I had a baby... He was there for me through infertility and beyond...
Losing someone you love always sucks... doing the right thing and ending their misery is never easy. Chance is in a better place where he never has to worry about Megan trying to eat him. He doesn't have to share his bed with Lola and he'll always be with me in spirit. He has no pain and he's able to eat to his heart content... and I'm sure he'll be waiting for me at the rainbow bridge when I meet my maker...
Goodbye Old Friend... I love you...
CHANCELLOR SEBASTIEN CHAMPION
June 3, 1996 - October 15, 2008
12 years ago I purchased a beautiful miniature dachshund who was red dapple in color. I was 18 and I spent an exorbitant amount of money purchasing this dog. My mother when she heard the news threatened to disown me. He also convinced my mom not to disown me by running around the house with a newspaper over his head, running into a table and yelping like the puppy that he was. He eventually moved into my apartment with me and managed to scare off any number of bad boyfriends by doing various things such as eating a wallet, their shoes, peeing on them, coming between us when the guy went to kiss me. He loved my husband and didn't do any of those things to him. Chance had managed to survive back problems that caused numbness, two attacks by Megan and a kidney ailment. Chance was my baby before I had a baby... He was there for me through infertility and beyond...
Losing someone you love always sucks... doing the right thing and ending their misery is never easy. Chance is in a better place where he never has to worry about Megan trying to eat him. He doesn't have to share his bed with Lola and he'll always be with me in spirit. He has no pain and he's able to eat to his heart content... and I'm sure he'll be waiting for me at the rainbow bridge when I meet my maker...
Goodbye Old Friend... I love you...
CHANCELLOR SEBASTIEN CHAMPION
June 3, 1996 - October 15, 2008
Saturday, October 04, 2008
We have a tooth...
Holy Schnickey batman... we finally after 13 months of waiting. (Really 6 months of waiting) we have 1 tooth. My son is no longer the toothless wonder. His top left tooth popped through on Monday. We had no signs it was happening except for his nap schedule got all screwy.
That's one worry off my mind now... my son won't be toothless forever. I spoke to various pediatricians I work with who all reassured me that he would eventually get his teeth, but when it goes by month after month and no teeth you kind of start to wonder. When coworkers look at you like you've grown another head when you say - sorry no teeth yet.
In other news his grandmother just had surgery and is having to use a walker... apparently it was a more in depth surgery than previously thought. Here's hoping she's back up and around to chase after Squeaker. I know my FIL would really like her to be back up and around as we all would.
That's one worry off my mind now... my son won't be toothless forever. I spoke to various pediatricians I work with who all reassured me that he would eventually get his teeth, but when it goes by month after month and no teeth you kind of start to wonder. When coworkers look at you like you've grown another head when you say - sorry no teeth yet.
In other news his grandmother just had surgery and is having to use a walker... apparently it was a more in depth surgery than previously thought. Here's hoping she's back up and around to chase after Squeaker. I know my FIL would really like her to be back up and around as we all would.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
What A Wonderful Four Years It Has Been...
Four years ago today I married my husband. Over the last four years we've managed to survive and thrive in spite of living apart our first two years of marriage, ten miscarriages, an infertility work up and then the joyous birth of our son.
Granted this year has probably been the best because we were finally where we wanted to be... we became parents and I found that I loved my husband even more because of what a great father he is. Who knew that he could become more attractive.
The bottom line... I would do it again. I would marry my husband in a heartbeat. He is my partner, my friend, my lover, the father of my child... and he is the best man for me.
Happy anniversary my love...
Granted this year has probably been the best because we were finally where we wanted to be... we became parents and I found that I loved my husband even more because of what a great father he is. Who knew that he could become more attractive.
The bottom line... I would do it again. I would marry my husband in a heartbeat. He is my partner, my friend, my lover, the father of my child... and he is the best man for me.
Happy anniversary my love...
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
12 Month Stats
Right now Squeaker is being told NO in response to trying to pull books out of the book case. He and his father are having quite the conversation in regards to that book case.
Today was Squeaker's 12 month well baby visit. Here's his stats in case you care.
Weight 19 lbs 10 oz
Height 29.5 inches long
He's managed to stay consistently in the 10th percentile for weight and 25th percentile for height. His melon is of course 90th percentile. I just think he's going to have a big brain.
He's managed to take 5-6 steps at a time on his own terms of course. He babbles on his own terms. The pediatrician was pleased with his development.
His birthday party involved carrot cake for baby and ice cream cake for adults. He ate some of the carrot cake and some ice cream cake... of course he then puked 3 times. Needless to say we'll be waiting on the cake for a little while before trying it again.
My mom had a mini meltdown after all the guests were gone and it was just the in laws, my mom and us. I blame my in laws... will post later about that.
Ultimately the party went well. Food was fabulous and we are happy to say our little boy is now a year old.
Today was Squeaker's 12 month well baby visit. Here's his stats in case you care.
Weight 19 lbs 10 oz
Height 29.5 inches long
He's managed to stay consistently in the 10th percentile for weight and 25th percentile for height. His melon is of course 90th percentile. I just think he's going to have a big brain.
He's managed to take 5-6 steps at a time on his own terms of course. He babbles on his own terms. The pediatrician was pleased with his development.
His birthday party involved carrot cake for baby and ice cream cake for adults. He ate some of the carrot cake and some ice cream cake... of course he then puked 3 times. Needless to say we'll be waiting on the cake for a little while before trying it again.
My mom had a mini meltdown after all the guests were gone and it was just the in laws, my mom and us. I blame my in laws... will post later about that.
Ultimately the party went well. Food was fabulous and we are happy to say our little boy is now a year old.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
What A Year It Has Been...
A year ago Squeaker came into our lives and we haven't looked back. Looking forward our future is bright and happy and filled with this laughing, giggly, bowl of joy.
Having a baby does change your life. For the better. Infertility may have left scars, but they are at the moment scarred over and thought of infrequently and late at night generally when I'm looking at my son's sweet head and thanking my lucky stars.
Life truly is beautiful. Happy Birthday Squeaker... may this year be better than the last for you... may you continue to grow and challenge us and make us smile down to our toes. You are the best thing that ever happened to me.
Having a baby does change your life. For the better. Infertility may have left scars, but they are at the moment scarred over and thought of infrequently and late at night generally when I'm looking at my son's sweet head and thanking my lucky stars.
Life truly is beautiful. Happy Birthday Squeaker... may this year be better than the last for you... may you continue to grow and challenge us and make us smile down to our toes. You are the best thing that ever happened to me.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
I take back all the bad things I've said about you...
Okay I lied I'll take back most of the bad things I've said about a doc I work with, but that's only because he gave me an awesome recommendation for an eye doctor for my mom.
Last year in October my mom was supposed to have cataract surgery. The day came and the surgeon (a different one than originally planned) says no I won't do your cataract surgery as you have Fuchs dystrophy. Granted the spelling my mom came up with "I have F u c * dystrophy". Her response once she realized she was spelling it wrong was quite comical. The surgeon put the fear of God into her and had her thinking she would go blind in a week based on what he had to say. If you recall last year I was quite post partum at the time and not able to fully deal with this issue the way I would normally.
So fast forward to May when I finally got around to setting up an appointment with a new eye MD and found that we couldn't get in until August. No problem Mom's eye sight has remained stable although she has not been able to read her murder mysteries like she would like to.
Yesterday August 5th was the appointment. The recommendation for this doc was from one of the docs I work with... he's a bit of a challenge to work with at times - bipolar, pita, at times. Ultimately a wonderfully skilled physician that can be a bit of a pita when he wants to be. However he's also one of the most honest and will give an honest opinion when asked - so I asked him for a recommendation and he suggested a particular group and specifically this particular doctor. Off we went, I had low expectations. I hoped that my mom would not be diagnosed with Fuchs but if she was so be it. The idea of a corneal transplant was not my idea of a great time since I would need to take off work to take care of her and the baby. Not ideal and purely selfish on my part. Also the whole genetic component that it's passed along not high on my list of things I want to worry about.
The appointment went well. My mom does indeed have Fuchs but it's a moderate case. Her cataracts will eventually need to be operated on, however this doctor would like to wait and reevaluate 9 months from now as he feels if she implements some of the tricks he's suggested in how to live with Fuchs. My mom went from being ADAMANT that she would have her cataracts removed in a few weeks to - okay with not having them treated. Once it was explained that the cataract surgery may push her over the little ledge she is standing on and would mean she would then probably have to have the corneal transplant. It was a light bulb moment. It also was refreshing to see my mom back down in her thoughts and actually listen to what a doctor had to say.
In the future I'll be going with my mom to all her eye doctor appointments. I think it's in everyone's best interest to do so.
Last year in October my mom was supposed to have cataract surgery. The day came and the surgeon (a different one than originally planned) says no I won't do your cataract surgery as you have Fuchs dystrophy. Granted the spelling my mom came up with "I have F u c * dystrophy". Her response once she realized she was spelling it wrong was quite comical. The surgeon put the fear of God into her and had her thinking she would go blind in a week based on what he had to say. If you recall last year I was quite post partum at the time and not able to fully deal with this issue the way I would normally.
So fast forward to May when I finally got around to setting up an appointment with a new eye MD and found that we couldn't get in until August. No problem Mom's eye sight has remained stable although she has not been able to read her murder mysteries like she would like to.
Yesterday August 5th was the appointment. The recommendation for this doc was from one of the docs I work with... he's a bit of a challenge to work with at times - bipolar, pita, at times. Ultimately a wonderfully skilled physician that can be a bit of a pita when he wants to be. However he's also one of the most honest and will give an honest opinion when asked - so I asked him for a recommendation and he suggested a particular group and specifically this particular doctor. Off we went, I had low expectations. I hoped that my mom would not be diagnosed with Fuchs but if she was so be it. The idea of a corneal transplant was not my idea of a great time since I would need to take off work to take care of her and the baby. Not ideal and purely selfish on my part. Also the whole genetic component that it's passed along not high on my list of things I want to worry about.
The appointment went well. My mom does indeed have Fuchs but it's a moderate case. Her cataracts will eventually need to be operated on, however this doctor would like to wait and reevaluate 9 months from now as he feels if she implements some of the tricks he's suggested in how to live with Fuchs. My mom went from being ADAMANT that she would have her cataracts removed in a few weeks to - okay with not having them treated. Once it was explained that the cataract surgery may push her over the little ledge she is standing on and would mean she would then probably have to have the corneal transplant. It was a light bulb moment. It also was refreshing to see my mom back down in her thoughts and actually listen to what a doctor had to say.
In the future I'll be going with my mom to all her eye doctor appointments. I think it's in everyone's best interest to do so.
Saturday, August 02, 2008
So many things to do...
Eleven months and a few days... that's how old my son is. In twenty-nine days my son will be a year old.
I've neglected my blog... and I'm sorry for that, but to be honest it was so much easier to write when things were not quite right. Now that I reached what I was striving for - to have a child, well I find I can't complain. It's not that I don't have things to complain about it is more that it is hard for me to do so.
I could gripe about work, about lack of sleep, lack of labido, etc - but really I am happy and that is something I can not find in my heart to complain about. There are too many things to do for me to take a moment and say get a load of this. My internet usage has significantly decreased as my son's mobility has increased. It's quite comical if you think about it because a year ago I thought I would have all these wonderful things to say, but really it's hard for me to not make this into a mommy blog and I'm not sure I want to. I'm not in the trenches anymore... I'm off the island and while infertility still is a part of who I am, it's just a bit different now and I haven't quite reconciled how to combine the two worlds... being a mom and being infertile.
I've learned something though... being open about my struggles has allowed others to be open. Coworkers who struggle or are just starting to navigate the path of infertility can talk to me about clomid, injectables, etc and I'm able to be there for them in a way that those who had no difficulty are not. That's the part that matters. I can listen and say I've been there before... maybe it was a bit different than the place you are at right now, but I do understand...
I've neglected my blog... and I'm sorry for that, but to be honest it was so much easier to write when things were not quite right. Now that I reached what I was striving for - to have a child, well I find I can't complain. It's not that I don't have things to complain about it is more that it is hard for me to do so.
I could gripe about work, about lack of sleep, lack of labido, etc - but really I am happy and that is something I can not find in my heart to complain about. There are too many things to do for me to take a moment and say get a load of this. My internet usage has significantly decreased as my son's mobility has increased. It's quite comical if you think about it because a year ago I thought I would have all these wonderful things to say, but really it's hard for me to not make this into a mommy blog and I'm not sure I want to. I'm not in the trenches anymore... I'm off the island and while infertility still is a part of who I am, it's just a bit different now and I haven't quite reconciled how to combine the two worlds... being a mom and being infertile.
I've learned something though... being open about my struggles has allowed others to be open. Coworkers who struggle or are just starting to navigate the path of infertility can talk to me about clomid, injectables, etc and I'm able to be there for them in a way that those who had no difficulty are not. That's the part that matters. I can listen and say I've been there before... maybe it was a bit different than the place you are at right now, but I do understand...
Monday, June 16, 2008
Happy Birthday to me...
Curled up next to me is the best birthday gift ever... who is currently sleeping.
Now if only he also came with diamond earrings a girl would be in heaven :D
*Highly doubt I'll be getting those earrings, but a girl can dream right?
Sunday, June 15, 2008
The Day Before My Birthday...
It is just after midnight and I'm looking back on June 15th and what it means to me... Since 2005 this has not been a day I think of fondly... This is the day that started it all. This is the day that left me reeling, trying to find my footing and trying to make sense of what seemed impossible. This is the day that brought me to my knees not once, but twice.
But this is also the day that started my search - granted the first search was for "ectopic pregnancy" and "methotrexate side effects" and all of that, but it lead me to blogs and eventually on July 7th, 2005 this blog became what it is. That was when we only had 3 dogs -rather than 6. Ahh the 3 dog household what a difference 3 more makes..
This blog became what it is because of June 15, 2005. One day before my 27th birthday... this was before we had multiple miscarriages, before we had been to an RE, before we had even thought it would take 2.5 years and 12 pregnancies to have our son... this was the day I thought I was going to just have a simple d/c and instead found out we had an ectopic pregnancy. This is the day that repeated in 2006 and found us with yet more awful news... and it found us last year huddled under the covers not doing anything - no doctor's appointments, just us at home with a doppler listening to Squeaker who was then the Not Negative... We did not reclaim this day last year, but this year damnit it is going to be reclaimed.
I am done looking at the calendar and seeing June 15th and feeling dread. Yes, this day is something I will always remember my losses on, but it doesn't hold the power that it once did. I need to reclaim it so that I can reclaim my birthday. Everyone deserves to celebrate their birthday rather than dread it and this year more than most I think I deserve that. So - since it is Father's day today and my husband is now a father we're going to celebrate the day at least the afternoon as D has to work tonight. Squeaker and I are not going to huddle in our beds with the cover over our head... we're going to go out and we're going to enjoy ourselves. I may take a few moments like now to remember those losses and to be sad, but I won't barricade myself away from the world and I won't dread my birthday. This year the wounds are healed- still scarred, but no longer fresh and gaping... and we have Squeaker to thank for that. He's healed those wounds without even trying.
I'm reclaiming June 15th... I'm going to celebrate my husband's first Father's Day as a father and I'm going to hug Squeaker like he'll always be small... and I'm going to remember those pregnancies that did not come to be... but I'm not going to hide anymore on the 15th of June... it's time to reclaim it as the day before my birthday rather than as something awful and horrible. Because I am strong... and I have already walked through the fire and while I was burned and bloodied, I came out the other side and there's this little person who needs me to be strong.
But this is also the day that started my search - granted the first search was for "ectopic pregnancy" and "methotrexate side effects" and all of that, but it lead me to blogs and eventually on July 7th, 2005 this blog became what it is. That was when we only had 3 dogs -rather than 6. Ahh the 3 dog household what a difference 3 more makes..
This blog became what it is because of June 15, 2005. One day before my 27th birthday... this was before we had multiple miscarriages, before we had been to an RE, before we had even thought it would take 2.5 years and 12 pregnancies to have our son... this was the day I thought I was going to just have a simple d/c and instead found out we had an ectopic pregnancy. This is the day that repeated in 2006 and found us with yet more awful news... and it found us last year huddled under the covers not doing anything - no doctor's appointments, just us at home with a doppler listening to Squeaker who was then the Not Negative... We did not reclaim this day last year, but this year damnit it is going to be reclaimed.
I am done looking at the calendar and seeing June 15th and feeling dread. Yes, this day is something I will always remember my losses on, but it doesn't hold the power that it once did. I need to reclaim it so that I can reclaim my birthday. Everyone deserves to celebrate their birthday rather than dread it and this year more than most I think I deserve that. So - since it is Father's day today and my husband is now a father we're going to celebrate the day at least the afternoon as D has to work tonight. Squeaker and I are not going to huddle in our beds with the cover over our head... we're going to go out and we're going to enjoy ourselves. I may take a few moments like now to remember those losses and to be sad, but I won't barricade myself away from the world and I won't dread my birthday. This year the wounds are healed- still scarred, but no longer fresh and gaping... and we have Squeaker to thank for that. He's healed those wounds without even trying.
I'm reclaiming June 15th... I'm going to celebrate my husband's first Father's Day as a father and I'm going to hug Squeaker like he'll always be small... and I'm going to remember those pregnancies that did not come to be... but I'm not going to hide anymore on the 15th of June... it's time to reclaim it as the day before my birthday rather than as something awful and horrible. Because I am strong... and I have already walked through the fire and while I was burned and bloodied, I came out the other side and there's this little person who needs me to be strong.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Nine Months...
If you were to look back nine months you would have seen me... pregnant... working... totally oblivious to the obvious fact that I would soon have a child. I didn't believe it. I felt as if I was getting ready for something that was imaginary. Needless to say reality hit at 11:09 a.m. on the 31st of August 2007. It was one of the best days of my life... the other best day of course was marrying D my wonderful husband...
I don't want to make being a mom this romanticized version because there are times when it's hard. There are times when I wonder what the hell was I thinking. There are moments when I don't want to pump breast milk at work or nurse at night and there are times when I wish Squeaker would be soothed or comforted by D or Grandma or anyone else but me... but those moments are few and far between and are not my reality most days.
The last few weeks have been hard... Squeaker managed to get crawling down pat, pulling himself up on objects and sitting upright unassisted all in a week and that meant his sleep cycle got all wonked up. He was half waking up in the middle of the night by sitting himself upright and crying with eyes closed. It was difficult to soothe him back to sleep and it was downright frustrating to watch it happen. Laying him down just resulted in him popping right back upright as if to say "See mom look at my new trick." Needless to say we are happy to be past that little bump in the road. We still have not managed to get the Squeaker into his crib... and I so don't know when that will happen... we talk about it and then forget to follow through.
The past week he's also finally gotten a taste for solid food. We've also learned he'll eat solids, just not if given by me. So D or my mom are the token feeders... he lays eyes on me and he wants the boob none of this real food crap. For them he's a baby bird with his mouth open... for me he's a mouth closed not getting anything but a boob or a bottle past these lips.
The past nine months have flown by... my in laws visited this past week as D turned 30 on Monday - sorry I forgot to post my loving post to him... but I did wish him a happy birthday and bought him a wonderful vacuum cleaner (he wanted it and it was horribly expensive) for his birthday. They are already talking about his first birthday... I can't even imagine that, but know that it will happen and soon... but for now I have 3 months to think about that and I can savor those three months... and just enjoy my little baby boy who isn't so little anymore...
This weekend my nephew will be competing in the Odyssey of the Mind competition and will be carrying a picture of Squeaker as his good luck charm... when I took the picture of him in his "lucky and charming" t-shirt and printed it I was shocked... Shocked by just how much he looks like my dad. The facial expression was the same as my dad and that was eerie. Others have mentioned that he looks like me, but then if you look at images of my dad you truly see just who he looks like... Excluding the blue eyes of course those are all D.
My coworkers call him "petite" granted they all gave birth to mammoth elephants in comparison with my little mouse, but he's perfect just the way he is... So here is my miracle... my son... my Squeaker who truly lights up my days and sometimes my nights :D
I don't want to make being a mom this romanticized version because there are times when it's hard. There are times when I wonder what the hell was I thinking. There are moments when I don't want to pump breast milk at work or nurse at night and there are times when I wish Squeaker would be soothed or comforted by D or Grandma or anyone else but me... but those moments are few and far between and are not my reality most days.
The last few weeks have been hard... Squeaker managed to get crawling down pat, pulling himself up on objects and sitting upright unassisted all in a week and that meant his sleep cycle got all wonked up. He was half waking up in the middle of the night by sitting himself upright and crying with eyes closed. It was difficult to soothe him back to sleep and it was downright frustrating to watch it happen. Laying him down just resulted in him popping right back upright as if to say "See mom look at my new trick." Needless to say we are happy to be past that little bump in the road. We still have not managed to get the Squeaker into his crib... and I so don't know when that will happen... we talk about it and then forget to follow through.
The past week he's also finally gotten a taste for solid food. We've also learned he'll eat solids, just not if given by me. So D or my mom are the token feeders... he lays eyes on me and he wants the boob none of this real food crap. For them he's a baby bird with his mouth open... for me he's a mouth closed not getting anything but a boob or a bottle past these lips.
The past nine months have flown by... my in laws visited this past week as D turned 30 on Monday - sorry I forgot to post my loving post to him... but I did wish him a happy birthday and bought him a wonderful vacuum cleaner (he wanted it and it was horribly expensive) for his birthday. They are already talking about his first birthday... I can't even imagine that, but know that it will happen and soon... but for now I have 3 months to think about that and I can savor those three months... and just enjoy my little baby boy who isn't so little anymore...
This weekend my nephew will be competing in the Odyssey of the Mind competition and will be carrying a picture of Squeaker as his good luck charm... when I took the picture of him in his "lucky and charming" t-shirt and printed it I was shocked... Shocked by just how much he looks like my dad. The facial expression was the same as my dad and that was eerie. Others have mentioned that he looks like me, but then if you look at images of my dad you truly see just who he looks like... Excluding the blue eyes of course those are all D.
My coworkers call him "petite" granted they all gave birth to mammoth elephants in comparison with my little mouse, but he's perfect just the way he is... So here is my miracle... my son... my Squeaker who truly lights up my days and sometimes my nights :D
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Cloth vs Disposables
Dino D you have not suddenly gone senile - those are indeed disposables. We're still using cloth about 50-75% of the time. However when out and about we use disposables and also on travels we use disposables. Life is just a bit chaotic for me to use cloth when we go on road trips and fortunately our road trips are so infrequent that we just don't need to learn to travel with cloth.
I'm more of a bumgenius girl than a prefold girl... though I am slowly getting better at the prefolds. We generally use the bumgenius most days and my mom is definitely more into the bumgenius than the prefolds. I'm thinking of buying some fitteds to switch things up. So yes we're still doing cloth - just not in that particular picture :D
I'm more of a bumgenius girl than a prefold girl... though I am slowly getting better at the prefolds. We generally use the bumgenius most days and my mom is definitely more into the bumgenius than the prefolds. I'm thinking of buying some fitteds to switch things up. So yes we're still doing cloth - just not in that particular picture :D
Come on baby - Do the
Fill in the blank- Locomotion.
We now have locomotion... movement... forward propulsion. We also have sideway and backwards and while it's not pretty or speedy we do have movement. He can get from point A to point B. Also if you watch closely you see nothing... it's when you look away - bam he's in another spot. Little stinker is shy about his accomplishments. It's great fun to see him grow and change right before our eyes.
We still have no teeth, though we have a ton of drool to go with absolutely nothing.
We do have a fence now... so I will not have anything to complain about for quite a while. A fence - how the hell did we survive without a fence? It has enriched our lives in ways that are too numerous to name.
Work is still crazy. D's work is still crazy. Life is just going by so quickly and taking the time to stop and smell the roses is something I force myself to do frequently... granted the roses I'm smelling is Squeak, and sometimes he definitely doesn't smell like roses. But he's mine and that's the part that I thank my lucky stars every day for...
Life before him was definitely boring and missing something. I knew there was a reason why we kept trying. Knowing the reason while it doesn't make all our losses go away... it makes them easier to bear.
We now have locomotion... movement... forward propulsion. We also have sideway and backwards and while it's not pretty or speedy we do have movement. He can get from point A to point B. Also if you watch closely you see nothing... it's when you look away - bam he's in another spot. Little stinker is shy about his accomplishments. It's great fun to see him grow and change right before our eyes.
We still have no teeth, though we have a ton of drool to go with absolutely nothing.
We do have a fence now... so I will not have anything to complain about for quite a while. A fence - how the hell did we survive without a fence? It has enriched our lives in ways that are too numerous to name.
Work is still crazy. D's work is still crazy. Life is just going by so quickly and taking the time to stop and smell the roses is something I force myself to do frequently... granted the roses I'm smelling is Squeak, and sometimes he definitely doesn't smell like roses. But he's mine and that's the part that I thank my lucky stars every day for...
Life before him was definitely boring and missing something. I knew there was a reason why we kept trying. Knowing the reason while it doesn't make all our losses go away... it makes them easier to bear.
Friday, April 18, 2008
We Survived!
The baptism on the 6th of April with minimal meltdowns... though taking 6 dogs in 2 cars helped us significantly and nursing an infant while husband is driving the car is something I thought I would never do - thankfully the dachshunds did allow me some leg room to climb in back so I could be near Squeaker or we would have been so SCREWED.
Lets see to start things off on Wednesday the 2nd of April I was woken by D saying - "Honey, I think we have to take Blue to the vet." Apparently Pepper in her infinite wisdom somehow managed to do something to Blue's eye - he came in from playing outside with a puffed up eye that he wouldn't open. The dog looked awful. I on no sleep and a friend took the 2 mangy mutts to the vet and learned Blue had scratched his cornea and would need 10 days of antibiotic drops. Wrestling a 50+ lb dog to put eye drops in 3 times a day was not high on my list of things to do. However within 2 days of starting the drops Blue no longer looked like he needed an eye patch to go anywhere.
Friday the 4th we gathered up all our supplies, foisted 2 dogs (Meg and Ernie) off on a friend who was also going to the other side of the state and would hand off Meg & Ernie to my mom as she drove through my home town. Finished loading up the car and started on our merry way. Car ride there was uneventful. My mom's house thankfully was finished being repaired and in her infinite wisdom she chose WHITE carpet. I blame her poor eye sight for that one... White carpet??? Seriously mom what the hell were you thinking. My mangy mutts put paw prints on it immediately and yes I do feel bad about it, but have no idea how to prevent if from happening again in July when we come for a visit.
Saturday found D's parents at my mom's and they loved on Squeaker... though he was a bit discombobulated about everything that was going on. Saturday I also visited with my brother and his wife and their clients (they run an adult foster care home).
Sunday was the big day and we managed to arrive at church on time. All parties accounted for and Squeaker was adorable... the minister took one look at him and announced during the service that he could see my dad in Squeaker with the grin he was giving him. The actual baptism Squeaker was a peach through though he tried to grab the napkin to wipe his forehead with, the pamphlet the minister was holding, the ministers remnants and so on and so forth. The only thing he didn't try to grab was the minister's beard. He didn't cry actually smiled and giggled through the baptism and then we were back to our seats. He took his morning nap during the church service. Afterwards at the party he was a-okay with being passed around to various family members - including husband's mother's family evil inc. Although he did start screaming in Grandma's lap again and didn't really enjoy meeting D's uncle the slime ball. Afterward he was whipped and took a late nap.
Monday came and we stayed for a few repairmen to come to my mom's. The loaded up the car. About an hour and a half into the car ride Squeaker had enough - screaming. We pulled over, not once, not twice, but three times each time changing, feeding and settling. When he started screaming for the fourth time we looked at one another and I decided to give it a shot hopping into the back and nursing him from the car seat - not ideal, not what I'd recommend, but when you're only 40 minutes from home you do what you have to do. D says he loves me even more because that whole screaming thing with Squeaker leads to puking and we'd already dealt with puking once during the scream fest. So it was either stop or nurse. Nurse occurred and he fell asleep. He was just so OVER being on the road.
I will post some more this weekend I promise - including pictures.
Lets see to start things off on Wednesday the 2nd of April I was woken by D saying - "Honey, I think we have to take Blue to the vet." Apparently Pepper in her infinite wisdom somehow managed to do something to Blue's eye - he came in from playing outside with a puffed up eye that he wouldn't open. The dog looked awful. I on no sleep and a friend took the 2 mangy mutts to the vet and learned Blue had scratched his cornea and would need 10 days of antibiotic drops. Wrestling a 50+ lb dog to put eye drops in 3 times a day was not high on my list of things to do. However within 2 days of starting the drops Blue no longer looked like he needed an eye patch to go anywhere.
Friday the 4th we gathered up all our supplies, foisted 2 dogs (Meg and Ernie) off on a friend who was also going to the other side of the state and would hand off Meg & Ernie to my mom as she drove through my home town. Finished loading up the car and started on our merry way. Car ride there was uneventful. My mom's house thankfully was finished being repaired and in her infinite wisdom she chose WHITE carpet. I blame her poor eye sight for that one... White carpet??? Seriously mom what the hell were you thinking. My mangy mutts put paw prints on it immediately and yes I do feel bad about it, but have no idea how to prevent if from happening again in July when we come for a visit.
Saturday found D's parents at my mom's and they loved on Squeaker... though he was a bit discombobulated about everything that was going on. Saturday I also visited with my brother and his wife and their clients (they run an adult foster care home).
Sunday was the big day and we managed to arrive at church on time. All parties accounted for and Squeaker was adorable... the minister took one look at him and announced during the service that he could see my dad in Squeaker with the grin he was giving him. The actual baptism Squeaker was a peach through though he tried to grab the napkin to wipe his forehead with, the pamphlet the minister was holding, the ministers remnants and so on and so forth. The only thing he didn't try to grab was the minister's beard. He didn't cry actually smiled and giggled through the baptism and then we were back to our seats. He took his morning nap during the church service. Afterwards at the party he was a-okay with being passed around to various family members - including husband's mother's family evil inc. Although he did start screaming in Grandma's lap again and didn't really enjoy meeting D's uncle the slime ball. Afterward he was whipped and took a late nap.
Monday came and we stayed for a few repairmen to come to my mom's. The loaded up the car. About an hour and a half into the car ride Squeaker had enough - screaming. We pulled over, not once, not twice, but three times each time changing, feeding and settling. When he started screaming for the fourth time we looked at one another and I decided to give it a shot hopping into the back and nursing him from the car seat - not ideal, not what I'd recommend, but when you're only 40 minutes from home you do what you have to do. D says he loves me even more because that whole screaming thing with Squeaker leads to puking and we'd already dealt with puking once during the scream fest. So it was either stop or nurse. Nurse occurred and he fell asleep. He was just so OVER being on the road.
I will post some more this weekend I promise - including pictures.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Did You Remember What Today Is?
My mom had the audacity to ask that question of me today. My response of - "Of course I know what today is, but I didn't want to mention it to you unless you brought it up." Was met with a brief "aha".
Four years ago - my dad died. My mom still grieves for him. With all the problems at my childhood home (the pipes freezing) which caused a tremendous amount of damage. My dad I'm sure heard all about it as she still occasionally goes to his grave and yells at him for whatever has gone wrong with the house. I know it sounds irrational, but if that's what she needs to do, then that's okay by me. A few people are hounding my mom to either sell the house or have it demolished. She admitted to me why she can't do either of those things... she feels if she gets rid of those things she's losing the last connection she has to my dad. They picked out the house together. I'm not one of the few encouraging her to sell or demolish. Yes, it would make my life easier not to have 2 houses to worry about, however I recognize why she has to have the farm and am on board. D is as well.
I still think of how my dad would have reacted to having a little boy named after him. I wonder what he would have thought about my little boy. I know he would have loved him unconditionally. I know he would have enjoyed Squeaker just the way he is and he would have embraced the nickname "Squeaker" and just ran with it. He would have spent hours making my son giggle and grin by making Donald Duck noises and by just being a Grandpa to him. I know that my dad would have taken my son out for a day and brought him back filthy from head to toe, but he would have bathed him and gotten him ready for bed and just enjoyed letting him be a little boy.
So today I told my son about his Grandpa... and told him that he's up in heaven, looking down and protecting him... Squeaker grinned at me and snuggled up with me. For just a moment I felt close to my dad again... I hadn't felt that way since the night he died... when the police officer told me to "drive carefully" and gave me a speeding ticket... It was one of those moments that I knew my dad was with me... and he was with my son. It wasn't the way I wanted it to be, but it would have to do.
Below is my son... 6 months of age... he's got the best smile, just like his Grandpa had.
Four years ago - my dad died. My mom still grieves for him. With all the problems at my childhood home (the pipes freezing) which caused a tremendous amount of damage. My dad I'm sure heard all about it as she still occasionally goes to his grave and yells at him for whatever has gone wrong with the house. I know it sounds irrational, but if that's what she needs to do, then that's okay by me. A few people are hounding my mom to either sell the house or have it demolished. She admitted to me why she can't do either of those things... she feels if she gets rid of those things she's losing the last connection she has to my dad. They picked out the house together. I'm not one of the few encouraging her to sell or demolish. Yes, it would make my life easier not to have 2 houses to worry about, however I recognize why she has to have the farm and am on board. D is as well.
I still think of how my dad would have reacted to having a little boy named after him. I wonder what he would have thought about my little boy. I know he would have loved him unconditionally. I know he would have enjoyed Squeaker just the way he is and he would have embraced the nickname "Squeaker" and just ran with it. He would have spent hours making my son giggle and grin by making Donald Duck noises and by just being a Grandpa to him. I know that my dad would have taken my son out for a day and brought him back filthy from head to toe, but he would have bathed him and gotten him ready for bed and just enjoyed letting him be a little boy.
So today I told my son about his Grandpa... and told him that he's up in heaven, looking down and protecting him... Squeaker grinned at me and snuggled up with me. For just a moment I felt close to my dad again... I hadn't felt that way since the night he died... when the police officer told me to "drive carefully" and gave me a speeding ticket... It was one of those moments that I knew my dad was with me... and he was with my son. It wasn't the way I wanted it to be, but it would have to do.
Below is my son... 6 months of age... he's got the best smile, just like his Grandpa had.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
What a difference a year makes...
I had every intention of putting up this post up on February 14th, however the broken toe, turkey incident shadowed that.
A year ago on Valentines day we seen for the third time the Not Negative... with his little heart beating, measuring on track body, sitting in the right place we were both excited and terrified. Every week we were panicky and scared that something would go wrong. Last year on Valentine's day I had 2 appointments - one with the RE and one with my OB... two totally different worlds.
The RE world - where they recognize that things don't always come easy and don't look at you as if you're nuts or paranoid for being anxious. Such a calming place to go as they "got" what we were feeling. The OB's office where things are taken a bit for granted. Where I was actually asked if I had 11 kids at home... where D wanted to have a gun so he could shoot someone so they would quit asking STUPID questions. Where I was given a purple folder with preregistration information at my 1st appointment... Never did fill out that preregistration stuff - WHOOPS.
Eventually we began to just see the OB and the stupid questions quit being asked. However I still remember all the appointments where my OB kept giving me the look of "relax already" and I wanted to punch him or at least kick him in the knee for giving me those looks. Then after Squeaker was born and the recap he had to shrug and say "We just don't know why PPROM occurs... and yes you are risk for that to happen again."
The year has been so wonderful on so many levels... and I am so thankful that I was able to have the lovely blog world be with me through that journey to motherhood... I do not say this often enough, but thank you for supporting me through all the crap I've been through. It has helped a lot - more than you know.
I'm not a social butterfly - I have only few friends. I haven't gotten "out there" to make new friends. D and I both are home bodies and we're okay with that. However there are times when I miss having close friends here near where I live... fortunately I can almost always get online and feel connected again to my internet friends and my friends in real life who now live far away. My coworkers are nice people, but I don't get invited to go out with them... and I don't feel included most of the time in the inner circle. Some days that's a great thing... other days it just makes you feel as if you're an outsider. I think for the most part i keep people at work at a distance- work is work and when I leave work I leave work. Yes, some of my patients will forever leave marks on my soul, but work does not own my soul and that I think is healthy for both me and my sanity.
I started this blog after having an ectopic and a d/c... since then many things have happened. All the emotions have been experienced and you have been able to watch me work through them. I am so very thankful for my internet/blog friends. I even sometimes feel like the popular girl - you know the one... the one you hated in high school - or is that just me who hated the popular girl in high school? Anyway I get to feel the love and not worry about what people think and that is a nice thing.
Fortunately Squeaker makes me feel as if I'm queen of the world and can accomplish anything. He's truly a happy little boy who is just a barrel of fun.
A year ago on Valentines day we seen for the third time the Not Negative... with his little heart beating, measuring on track body, sitting in the right place we were both excited and terrified. Every week we were panicky and scared that something would go wrong. Last year on Valentine's day I had 2 appointments - one with the RE and one with my OB... two totally different worlds.
The RE world - where they recognize that things don't always come easy and don't look at you as if you're nuts or paranoid for being anxious. Such a calming place to go as they "got" what we were feeling. The OB's office where things are taken a bit for granted. Where I was actually asked if I had 11 kids at home... where D wanted to have a gun so he could shoot someone so they would quit asking STUPID questions. Where I was given a purple folder with preregistration information at my 1st appointment... Never did fill out that preregistration stuff - WHOOPS.
Eventually we began to just see the OB and the stupid questions quit being asked. However I still remember all the appointments where my OB kept giving me the look of "relax already" and I wanted to punch him or at least kick him in the knee for giving me those looks. Then after Squeaker was born and the recap he had to shrug and say "We just don't know why PPROM occurs... and yes you are risk for that to happen again."
The year has been so wonderful on so many levels... and I am so thankful that I was able to have the lovely blog world be with me through that journey to motherhood... I do not say this often enough, but thank you for supporting me through all the crap I've been through. It has helped a lot - more than you know.
I'm not a social butterfly - I have only few friends. I haven't gotten "out there" to make new friends. D and I both are home bodies and we're okay with that. However there are times when I miss having close friends here near where I live... fortunately I can almost always get online and feel connected again to my internet friends and my friends in real life who now live far away. My coworkers are nice people, but I don't get invited to go out with them... and I don't feel included most of the time in the inner circle. Some days that's a great thing... other days it just makes you feel as if you're an outsider. I think for the most part i keep people at work at a distance- work is work and when I leave work I leave work. Yes, some of my patients will forever leave marks on my soul, but work does not own my soul and that I think is healthy for both me and my sanity.
I started this blog after having an ectopic and a d/c... since then many things have happened. All the emotions have been experienced and you have been able to watch me work through them. I am so very thankful for my internet/blog friends. I even sometimes feel like the popular girl - you know the one... the one you hated in high school - or is that just me who hated the popular girl in high school? Anyway I get to feel the love and not worry about what people think and that is a nice thing.
Fortunately Squeaker makes me feel as if I'm queen of the world and can accomplish anything. He's truly a happy little boy who is just a barrel of fun.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
What Does A Frozen Turkey Have To Do With This?
What does a frozen turkey have to do with anything???
Well when that meets a cement floor and manages to land on your foot it generally is not a good thing.
Last night I decided that I was going to attempt some cleaning of our basement. First - me and cleaning are not a good combination. When I finished up my maybe 15 minutes of cleaning I decided I had better find the frozen chicken for dinner. We have 2 freezers. I started digging through the chest freezer and had to move some items including 2 turkey breasts in a bag. I picked up the turkey breasts and continued digging. The bag broke sending 1 turkey onto my left foot and the resounding thud and my resounding moan sent D running to the basement. He wasn't sure if I fell, something fell, or what but he came running. He calmly picked up the turkey and then helped me up the stairs. We looked at my toe and it was already black, blue and bloody. We cleaned it up a bit and I debated should I go the urgent care... could it be an open fracture? Would I need antibiotics?
After a bit of debate as Squeak had just fell asleep and the roads were shitty we decided it was best to go and get it checked out.
Five hours later - yes FIVE hours later I am missing a toenail and have 4 stitches and a beautifully bruised toe and yes it is an open fracture, so I made the right decision to go and get it checked out.
Oh yes and to top off this week on Sunday when my mom got home to her house the pipes had burst. So we've been dealing with the insurance issues and my mom's nerves as well in regards to the house, etc. She told D that she had to take a nerve pill yesterday because of the way the cleaners are cleaning her house. She'd rather have the tools and clean it herself. So my week has been fun - how about yours?
Oh yes and we haven't told her yet about the toe... I'll tell her tonight. So if you hear yelling it's my mom. Maybe I'll slip her a "nerve" pill?
Well when that meets a cement floor and manages to land on your foot it generally is not a good thing.
Last night I decided that I was going to attempt some cleaning of our basement. First - me and cleaning are not a good combination. When I finished up my maybe 15 minutes of cleaning I decided I had better find the frozen chicken for dinner. We have 2 freezers. I started digging through the chest freezer and had to move some items including 2 turkey breasts in a bag. I picked up the turkey breasts and continued digging. The bag broke sending 1 turkey onto my left foot and the resounding thud and my resounding moan sent D running to the basement. He wasn't sure if I fell, something fell, or what but he came running. He calmly picked up the turkey and then helped me up the stairs. We looked at my toe and it was already black, blue and bloody. We cleaned it up a bit and I debated should I go the urgent care... could it be an open fracture? Would I need antibiotics?
After a bit of debate as Squeak had just fell asleep and the roads were shitty we decided it was best to go and get it checked out.
Five hours later - yes FIVE hours later I am missing a toenail and have 4 stitches and a beautifully bruised toe and yes it is an open fracture, so I made the right decision to go and get it checked out.
Oh yes and to top off this week on Sunday when my mom got home to her house the pipes had burst. So we've been dealing with the insurance issues and my mom's nerves as well in regards to the house, etc. She told D that she had to take a nerve pill yesterday because of the way the cleaners are cleaning her house. She'd rather have the tools and clean it herself. So my week has been fun - how about yours?
Oh yes and we haven't told her yet about the toe... I'll tell her tonight. So if you hear yelling it's my mom. Maybe I'll slip her a "nerve" pill?
Thursday, January 24, 2008
We've Come So Far...
Sorry it's been so long. I'd love to say I've been galavanting around the countryside, however that would be a lie. I'd like to say I was just too busy but that would probably be an exaggeration as well. Truthfully I've just been reading blogs, working, and taking care of SD.
Before SD was born I dreamed we would have this great breastfeeding relationship. That it would work wonderfully. I went to a class on breastfeeding and felt prepared for what was to come. My coworkers told me stories, gave suggestions, etc. Then he was born and instead of a full term infant I had a preterm white boy who was so whimpy even the lactation consultants were saying "pump... pump... pump". We spent the first 3 days having nurses on our ass about blood sugars and a physician even threaten if he continued with the low blood sugars that he would end up in the special care nursery. I resorted to formula at that point and continued to deal with the sleepy baby.
We came home and I would try for 15 minutes to get him to latch and stay awake. We tried with a nipple shield. Then I'd pump for 15 minutes... every 2-3 hours around the clock.
The next day we went to the pediatrician, were diagnosed with jaundice and it just seemed to get worse. My nipples felt like they were going to fall off and two days later I went to the lactation consultant. The lactation consultant took one look at my nipples and said those are off limits to SD for at least a week. I had been using too much suction with the pump and SD's latch was making mince meat of my boobs. It was less than glorious to be sure. I felt like an utter failure.
The next week we went back to the LC and we tried and managed to only suck about 13 cc. We continued to try and breast feed, but at that point I was resigning myself to becoming an exclusive pumper rather than an exclusive from the tap. We went each week and he was improving, but at that point the nurse in me was kicking in and I became obsessed with just getting him to take the amounts that the doctor wanted him to take in. So at 6 weeks when he finally managed to take close to a feed in at the LC I tried... and failed to get him back to the proverbial boob. I then gave up. We nursed if I was tired and he was tired and we were in bed. Otherwise I'd be hooked to the pump and D would feed.
By the time I went back to work at 12 weeks we were nursing maybe 2 feeds a day. At 16 weeks we finally had gotten it figured out. We were nursing maybe 95% of the time. Now when I'm off it's still about 95% sometimes 100%. I still pump at least once a day as I produce way more than he takes in and I'm just too uncomfortable to not pump, but it truly is amazing to think how far we have come.
I tried to donate my breastmilk to a local milk bank and was turned down... considering I have about 16 liters in my freezer right now I'm a touch heartbroken that I cannot donate because I take zyrtec and prilosec... which are considered safe for breastfeeding, but when donating they have stricter regulations. I'm investigating whether or not I can switch to a nasal spray for my allergies and stop the meds for gerd but have not truly put forth the effort.
Ultimately breastfeeding did not go how I imagined it would... I had all those dreams of it working so easily and when that didn't happen I was heart broken. I was devestated that I couldn't make it work. Now that it is working I think of how far we've come.. and how hard it was to get here. I wish that it would have been easier, but I'm glad that I finally arrived.
Before SD was born I dreamed we would have this great breastfeeding relationship. That it would work wonderfully. I went to a class on breastfeeding and felt prepared for what was to come. My coworkers told me stories, gave suggestions, etc. Then he was born and instead of a full term infant I had a preterm white boy who was so whimpy even the lactation consultants were saying "pump... pump... pump". We spent the first 3 days having nurses on our ass about blood sugars and a physician even threaten if he continued with the low blood sugars that he would end up in the special care nursery. I resorted to formula at that point and continued to deal with the sleepy baby.
We came home and I would try for 15 minutes to get him to latch and stay awake. We tried with a nipple shield. Then I'd pump for 15 minutes... every 2-3 hours around the clock.
The next day we went to the pediatrician, were diagnosed with jaundice and it just seemed to get worse. My nipples felt like they were going to fall off and two days later I went to the lactation consultant. The lactation consultant took one look at my nipples and said those are off limits to SD for at least a week. I had been using too much suction with the pump and SD's latch was making mince meat of my boobs. It was less than glorious to be sure. I felt like an utter failure.
The next week we went back to the LC and we tried and managed to only suck about 13 cc. We continued to try and breast feed, but at that point I was resigning myself to becoming an exclusive pumper rather than an exclusive from the tap. We went each week and he was improving, but at that point the nurse in me was kicking in and I became obsessed with just getting him to take the amounts that the doctor wanted him to take in. So at 6 weeks when he finally managed to take close to a feed in at the LC I tried... and failed to get him back to the proverbial boob. I then gave up. We nursed if I was tired and he was tired and we were in bed. Otherwise I'd be hooked to the pump and D would feed.
By the time I went back to work at 12 weeks we were nursing maybe 2 feeds a day. At 16 weeks we finally had gotten it figured out. We were nursing maybe 95% of the time. Now when I'm off it's still about 95% sometimes 100%. I still pump at least once a day as I produce way more than he takes in and I'm just too uncomfortable to not pump, but it truly is amazing to think how far we have come.
I tried to donate my breastmilk to a local milk bank and was turned down... considering I have about 16 liters in my freezer right now I'm a touch heartbroken that I cannot donate because I take zyrtec and prilosec... which are considered safe for breastfeeding, but when donating they have stricter regulations. I'm investigating whether or not I can switch to a nasal spray for my allergies and stop the meds for gerd but have not truly put forth the effort.
Ultimately breastfeeding did not go how I imagined it would... I had all those dreams of it working so easily and when that didn't happen I was heart broken. I was devestated that I couldn't make it work. Now that it is working I think of how far we've come.. and how hard it was to get here. I wish that it would have been easier, but I'm glad that I finally arrived.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
To Blog or sleep???
Sorry sleep wins out every time...
I'm still trying to acclimate to working again. I just finished a 6 day stretch and wow am I tired. My mom went back to the other side of the state to take care of things and well I had a migraine today - fortunately Squeak is a-okay with a day in kind of thing. However eventually I need to get my act together and go grocery shopping and actually cook something other than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
This is what my life has become and I'm okay with that to a certain extent. I hate the bone aching fatigue I have after working 6 nights in a row... However I don't know how to work anything different. I also feel even worse if I do break the stretch up so where oh where is my magic millionaire so I don't have to work.
In Squeak news - he's so much fun and quite a little character. He still hates his crib with a fiery passion to sleep, but he does sleep in his snuggle nest for 6 hours at a stretch so I really can't complain. He survived his 4 month shots without too much crankiness. He's found his toes which is great fun to watch.
Right now I need to run and deal with whiney dachshunds that are becoming increasingly whiney. I wish they wouldn't do that. We apparently have progressed to crying. Must run now... know that I'm reading if not commenting.
I'm still trying to acclimate to working again. I just finished a 6 day stretch and wow am I tired. My mom went back to the other side of the state to take care of things and well I had a migraine today - fortunately Squeak is a-okay with a day in kind of thing. However eventually I need to get my act together and go grocery shopping and actually cook something other than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
This is what my life has become and I'm okay with that to a certain extent. I hate the bone aching fatigue I have after working 6 nights in a row... However I don't know how to work anything different. I also feel even worse if I do break the stretch up so where oh where is my magic millionaire so I don't have to work.
In Squeak news - he's so much fun and quite a little character. He still hates his crib with a fiery passion to sleep, but he does sleep in his snuggle nest for 6 hours at a stretch so I really can't complain. He survived his 4 month shots without too much crankiness. He's found his toes which is great fun to watch.
Right now I need to run and deal with whiney dachshunds that are becoming increasingly whiney. I wish they wouldn't do that. We apparently have progressed to crying. Must run now... know that I'm reading if not commenting.
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