Not surpassing expectations...

This is a tough post to write... and while generally I focus on infertility or parenting this is about something else... not meeting or exceeding someone's expectations. I learned that I did that. I thought I was meeting or exceeding expectations, but turns out I'm not - but it's not in a cut and dry sense of the word... no it's more in a vague way which really is irritating. I'm actually pretty peeved by that realization. However it has opened my eyes that I can't meet everyone's expectations. I can't exceed everyone's expectations and damnit all... I can't kill myself trying to. Maybe it's the wake up call I needed.

I've also learned I'm not going to win any popularity contests. I get superficial friendships, but those deep friendships that inspire loyalty are few and far between. I'm not sure how to rectify that. It actually makes me pull more inward. I'm already a pretty inward sort of person, so this makes it even more so.

I know this is vague... but have you ever thought you wanted something only to realize maybe you didn't when you learned you didn't meet someones expectations? I just did... and I'm not sure how I feel about it. By the way this has nothing to do with parenting or infertility... and more to do with just life stuff.

Soon - the year in review...

Merry Christmas!

May your day be filled with family, friends, and good food. From my family to yours!

Being Broken...

In my real life there has been a rash of pregnancy announcements... and I'll admit to being torn. One couple I'm extremely happy for - it took them greater than a year and she was getting ready to start delving into modern medicines interventions when it happened. The other... it was an oops and their first child is about 18 months old. When talking with her about it she alluded that the other should be happy because she got to "try" to get pregnant. I told her that basically trying isn't all that much fun. It took 2 years of trying for SD to be here and lets just say the trying gets old when that occurs. I don't think she understood. I know she didn't. If you haven't lived in it then you don't understand. Although I will admit to wanting to punch that person. I refrained.

I recognize that some of this is jealousy. For me to even think about trying it involves a trip to the RE. I don't want to take the chance of having a doomed pregnancy because I don't make enough progesterone on my own to support an "oops" pregnancy. I don't want to take the chance that it "might" work. I want a pregnancy to know that it has the full support of everyone and anyone. We just don't want to take the risk and I'm okay with that. However it hasn't made me go through and schedule an appointment with the RE yet. Key word is yet. I want my cycles to come back to normal and to wean SD before that occurs. I
think the reason why I wanted to punch the one newly pregnant woman is that she had a luxury I don't have. I can't just try and see what happens.

However I had my yearly appointment with my regular guy and I mentioned that we would probably start trying again and go to the RE. He supported that go to the RE thing. Which reminded me that in the reproductive bits... I'm still broken. That's a little disheartening even if I already knew it. It's one thing to know it yourself... it's a whole nother story to have the medical professionals agree with you.

Fitting in...

I don't think I fit in...

I'm kind of stuck in between traditional and natural parenting. What the hell does that mean? I vaccinate... I'm okay with the fact I had a c-section... My child wears cloth and disposable diapers... We still have plastic in the house... We're weeding out high fructose corn syrup. I don't buy all organic - I'm too cheap for that.

There's just a lot of things that separate me from both my peers and my coworkers. I fit in here. I fit in with my close friends. Trying to fit in with my coworkers - it's tough. Their priorities and my priorities are totally different. I look like the hippy granola girl with them. Which I'm not. But one of the big reasons why I look like that is due to still breastfeeding... or let me rephrase it... because we've breastfed for so long. I know it always comes back to the b**bs doesn't it?

However with the granola group - well I don't fit in either. I'm okay with having the birth I had... hell I was maybe disappointed for about 5 minutes, but then there was that real live healthy baby and everything about disappointment went out the window. I can't muster any energy to be upset about the birth SD had. It was what it was and I have a healthy, happy child because of it. Then there's the vaccinate or not vaccinate debate which makes my head explode. Especially now with all the s*ine f*u talk and the vaccinations regarding that. I know that my decisions are based on what I see at work and lets just say that is not a pretty picture - which without disclosing how I fall on the vaccination debate probably gives you an idea of how I fall.

Ultimately I am so thankful for this space... this collection of women who I can say I fit in with. Maybe infertility brought us together, but my parenting choices hasn't brought us apart. For that I am thankful.

Prayers Needed For a Friend

Many of you that do read here will remember my friend Mandy she's also located at Inside Amanda's Head the first is her infertility blog and journey to motherhood. The second blog was started recently due to her learning of having chiari malformation which now necessitates brain surgery. She will be having the surgery tomorrow. If you are a praying person - send up some prayers. If you're a positive vibe kind of person - send those her way. Essentially I'm asking for you to think of Amanda and send her and her family your thoughts. I appreciate it and I know she will too.

Early On

First off... we've graduated from feeding therapy. Can we all go WOOHOO! Now granted we've still got lots of work to do. However I can honestly say the 12 weeks of therapy were worth it. Last night we went to a restaurant and my son actually ate a thing of mac n cheese from the kiddie menu. We sat and stared while he did it we were in such awe.

However we have watched patiently for Squeaker to have this language explosion... which hasn't happened. We've heard "hey blue" and "I love you" but we don't hear much else. So we decided that we would have an evaluation by Early On and see what they had to say. Today was the evaluation and we learned that Squeaker does indeed qualify for services in speech.

So in the next few weeks we'll be having the sit down to discuss goals and come up with a plan etc. His receptive language is off the charts, but his expressive is sadly lacking. Hopefully we'll have similar feelings about Early On as we did regarding feeding therapy. We shall see.

I'd Do It Again In a Heartbeat

Yesterday was my anniversary. Five years ago yesterday, I married a man who understands me. A man who loves me wholeheartedly and who is there for me. He was at my side through infertility and he has been by my side through parenthood.

I am a lucky lucky woman.

So - Happy Anniversary to me and the one I love.

Not How I Thought It Would Be

DinoD asked... and now I shall answer...

Is Squeaker still nursing? Yes. Yes, I'm nursing a toddler. I never thought that would be the case. I hoped to nurse until he was 2, have the birthday party and say goodbye to nursing- you know a burn the nursing bra party. However he's still nursing and the birthday party was a few days ago. We've significantly decreased the frequency of nursing, but he's still totally into the b**b when it comes to bedtime and when it comes to naptime... or if he's particularly pissed off about something.

I'm also admitting that I'm a lazy parent and bedtime is so simple with the b**b that seriously we'd have to change our nighttime routine and I'd rather not go through the hassle. I will eventually start having D put him to sleep, but with wonky work schedules it's hard to figure out how to make it work.

D is not terribly thrilled about this turn of events. No matter how often I tell him that it will eventually end and it will eventually means before he turns 5 and hopefully before he turns 3. My mom teases about him still nursing as does my friends and coworkers. I'm not ashamed of it, but I know it's outside the "norm" and slaps a crunchier label on me than I really am.

I do have to admit to enjoying one benefit of extended nursing... my periods didn't show back up until June. I wasn't terribly thrilled to see that particular thing show back up, but such is life.

Suggestions are welcome... I'm kind of doing the child/parent led weaning. I'd rather just slowly wind down and have him have no interest in it... however I'll admit to being a bit worried that he is going to be nursing forever.

Happy Birthday Squeaker!

My baby turned 2 today... It's hard to believe that two years have passed. Happy birthday SD!

Happy Birthday Friend...

I may not always have the "right" words. However I will always be there for you- whether you want me to be there or not. Happy Happy Birthday Mandy

Remembering A Father...

While celebrating another...

Father's Day is a day when I cherish the husband who is now a father... and remember the father who is no longer with us. My dad is someone I remember at odd times throughout the year. When my mom and I recently had difficulties I really wished he was here. He could calm her down and get her to see reason quicker than anyone I know.

I doubt I've told this story on here before, but when I was probably 1 or 2 my mom got extremely angry at Christmastime with something my brothers and sister had done and attempted to throw the Christmas tree and all the gifts out. My dad being a brave man chose to lock her in the bathroom. He didn't just lock her in there... he locked himself in with her. She was spitting mad - like a hissing wild cat, ranting and raving. His response to all of this was to hug her and just listen. He told her they weren't getting out of the bathroom until she calmed down. She eventually calmed down... and Christmas was saved.

That's just who he was... he was willing to stand the heat. He could handle it. Over the years growing up Dad was always there for me. He let me make mistakes, but he was always there to pick up the pieces. I wonder how he would have handled the multiple miscarriages that we suffered. I'm sure he would have found something just right to say to make me know just how much it bothered him and just how much he loved me and hated to see what we were going through. I wonder what he would have thought of having a grandson named after him. Or of having a grandson that at times is the spitting image of him. Although now that Squeaker isn't as much of a cueball he looks slightly less like him.

My parents would have been married for 33 years on the 19th... Today my mom is placing yellow roses on my Dad's grave. That's their flower...

Today I remember the man that raised me. He may not be here, but he is not forgotten. I also cherish the husband I have who is a fabulous father. My dad would be proud of my husband for being such a great father. I think my dad saw the potential when he gave his blessing for us to marry by announcing to the whole world that D was his son. Not his future son in law... but his son. That's just the guy my dad was.

Time Does Heal Some Wounds...

Four years ago I had my first d/c which I then learned was an ectopic. Three years ago we received the news that a rest cycle pregnancy was not viable... who would have thought lightning could hit twice. It did... and two years ago I spent the 15th under the covers with a doppler and poking my belly in the hopes that Squeaker would a) stay in there and b) live. Last year I spent the day enjoying Squeaker.

Today I did the same. This is not meant to say I don't still have bad memories of the 15th, but I'm making new happier memories of this day. It's the day before my birthday. The day before my bloggoversary... It's what lead me to this wonderful community. I have a lot of things to be thankful for... including...

Nanna will be coming back. She misses me... she misses Squeaker... she misses Dan.

Living with a hope and a prayer...

I guess I've learned something... when things are good - I don't blog. When things are not so good I blog. Things here are getting better, but not quite where one wants them to be.

I'll be honest here - I hope with the feeding therapy my mom comes back. Having my son sleep at someone elses house (I work nights) just isn't high on my want to do list. I'll do it... The other drama is that D's schedule changes in a few months so we may have to find yet another daycare provider if my mom doesn't come back.

I'm not holding out hope that she'll come back, but I am praying about it. It'd make all of our lives easier. Squeaker misses her. He still runs to her door and pounds on it as if to say "Nanna come out!" Which breaks my heart when it happens. Thankfully it's not as often as it was in the first few days of my mom's absence. Still watching my son want to see his Nanna and not being able to see her well it just makes me sad.

We start feeding therapy on Tuesday. To be truthful I have no freaking clue what we're going to do in feeding therapy. I'm going to assume that there's going to be actual feeding. Could be wrong though. I don't know if I'm supposed to bring him in hungry or what. It would be helpful if they gave detailed instructions so that the nurse in me can figure this out. We've been trying to follow the instructions given to us in the meantime... 1. Playing with food - yeah that ones not going so well. Not for lack of effort on our part.. but Squeaker not really into it. He'll dip and that's about it. 2. Smelling food - yeah not going so well either... he's not into letting anything get towards his mouth if we're the ones holding it... and he scrunches up his face as if to say "NO" and 3. Not forcing him - that's about the only one that is going well. We're letting him run the show so no forcing is happening.

Let me just say meal time is a HUGE pain in the ass at our house... I'm pinning a lot of hope on this whole feeding therapy thing.

Amy - Squeaker is otherwise healthy and meeting his developmental milestones... speech is a bit delayed, but physically he exceeds where he's supposed to be. Weight wise he's always been in the 5th percentile - never any higher. Hope that helps.

That Feeding Thing...

Well with my mom's prompt departure I was forced to take a serious look at my son's eating habits or lack there of. So I made that appointment for the feeding clinic...

Yesterday was the evaluation. And the verdict is that we need to do feeding therapy. Apparently Squeaker is showing signs of some oral aversion and reflux. The last part I want hmmm... his food choices, his self limiting behavior, etc.

So two things happened yesterday - we started him on prevacid and my brain was a bit fried as I had been up all night, but we have 3 things we need to work on until we actually start the therapy program... playing with food, smelling food, and not forcing him to eat.

My mom felt bad when she heard we were told NOT to force him to eat as she had been forcing him to eat out of frustration. I told her she was doing what she thought best and that it's not her fault.

So onward and upward right? This is something we can work on and hopefully we have a new boy in regards to food in the next few weeks. We did order freeze dried peas and corn and he loves those so we are finally getting vegetables to cross those lips of his...

At least we finally have a plan... that's a good thing right?

I am NOT a patient person

Things with my mom haven't improved much as of yet. The first night she barely said a word... the second day wasn't much better. The fourth (I took the third day off) she ranted and raved about a bunch of things but was semi civil. Things have slowly progressed. I hoped hearing that I had gotten Squeaker's hair cut which was one of her complaints would bring out her grandmotherly spirit, but alas I haven't heard a word.

One of my mom's other big gripes was my son's eating habits or lack there of was sending her over the proverbial edge. In the hopes of mending fences and even maybe getting her to come back, I took the plunge on Tuesday and called requesting a referral to the feeding clinic. I then waited, and waited, and called and was told - the message is in, call back on Friday - which irritated me. This morning I called AGAIN and said what's the hold up? I apparently expressed enough irritation as I was finally told a short time later that the referral had been put through. In the short time I did call the feeding clinic and asked politely - Do I have to have a referral? My insurance doesn't require one. I was told firmly that I HAD to have a referral and that the wait was 6 weeks for the eval... and then if we needed the intensive feeding clinic it would be roughly 9 months.

I think my head exploded at that point... if we would have known it would take 6 weeks 3 months ago we would have just gone ahead and done the eval back then... so now I'm kicking myself for not putting this in the forefront...

I mean some days he eats great... most days he eats subpar to okay... and then there are the days when getting anything past his lips that are not crackers or cheese.

One of my mom's other beefs was that we were still breastfeeding... we haven't given that up. The plan is to wean when he's 2... I'm sticking with that one... Though most days I think it would be so easy to just say enough. He's still all about the boob.

Ultimately once I make a decision I want instant results... this waiting crap is for the birds. I've been a patient person - waiting patiently for Squeaker was enough. I shouldn't have to wait for this now.

I also shouldn't have to wait for my mom to cool off and become a normal human being again... you know that loving mother she used to be. But I have to wait for that as well...

The Nanny Quit...

Or why my mother is upset with me...

Thursday of last week was not a great day for me... for a number of reasons. First I had just started coming down with mastitis and second was dealing with a rental car since my husband had been in a car accident earlier in the week. We came home from dealing with both issues and sat down after having had a nice dinner. My mom had been at our house and was watching Squeaker.

We sat down and she started complaining about how I cut Squeaker's hair. I had trimmed it a bit, no it wasn't fabulous, but darnit the kid screamed the entire time I was doing it. I didn't want to pay someone I didn't know to listen to him scream and had planned on getting it cut professionally by someone we both go to who I thought would do a good job in a week. Well D said "You've done nothing but bitch since she cut his hair - at least she finally cut it." She looked at the both of us and said "I'm done, I quit." I of course sat there in stunned silence, attempted to calm her down, but at that point she unloaded.

By unloaded - I mean she came up with things that had happened 3 years ago to complain about, when she's upset she says a lot of mean and nasty things. I generally able to let it slide off my back, but some of the things did bother me. She was upset about my still breastfeeding especially since we're still having feeding issues. (Yes, I'm still breastfeeding and will continue until he's 2) She complained about the dogs and how many we have... and on and on it went. I asked if she would at least watch him through the holiday weekend and she said no. I'm not proud and I did beg her to watch him as my thought was how the heck am I going to find a babysitter on a holiday weekend. She left in a blaze of glory or as if an atomic bomb had gone off and said she was never coming back.

I spent Thursday night crying and fretting. D started searching in the phonebook for daycares and we called a friend. I needless to say was able to find another babysitter - a very good friend of ours who introduced us luckily is off from work for the summer. She's going to watch him on a part time basis until July. Friday we went and visited an in home daycare and were able to feel comfortable about this woman watching our son at night 2 nights a week.

Let me just say all of this has been incredibly difficult. I hate arguing with my mother. It tends to make me physically ill. This time was no different than in the past... it made me sick to my stomach to listen to her angry words and do nothing. I do nothing because I'd rather preserve our relationship then have it be the type of relationship she and my sister have of only talking occasionally. I did defend myself, but mostly I just listened. One of her words did hit a nerve... the one where said I wouldn't have anymore children. Because I don't know if I will and hearing her say it with such sureness really hit me hard. It's one thing for me to be unsure it's another thing to have someone else say it.

The whole daycare thing has me worked up in nerves as well. My son has never been to daycare... I'm terrified of it. I know this lady is nice, but I'm fearful we'll be kicked out by him uttering a bad word or by him just not sleeping well... and what happens if D or I get hung up at work, etc... it all just overwhelms me to think about it.

My mom and I are slowly talking... it's not like it used to be, and I'm not sure it ever will be. I worry about her on a daily basis and I worry about how the relationship she has with my son can be salvaged and kept intact. Ultimately I'm a worrier... I'm just trying to adjust to this new normal.

Sorry It Has Been So Long...

It's not that I don't think of blogging... because I do. It's more a not sure what to say. I'm in the in between state. Am I still an infertility blogger if I'm not trying to get pregnant? Well yeah and no... It's complicated.

We still are on the fence about even attempting to have a second child. Things are so busy and we're enjoying Squeaker so much that we've mutually decided that we'll table the discussion until Squeaker is 2. So when that happens believe me we'll work through our post traumatic stress disorder and blog about our thoughts. Until then I live in a state where babies are great, but I love my toddler even more.

We've been fortunate that our jobs are relatively secure. I say relatively because hiring freezes and wage freezes are something that we deal with, but at least we have our jobs. How's that for positivity?

My mom is still the Nanny... and that is good most days. However if she has a bad night with the dogs and Squeaker... well needless to say I hear about it... and since stress is not my mom's forte well it gets a bit ugly. Usually leaving me in tears and her pissed off. She generally gets over it, but in the time it takes for her to get over it I'm on egg shells, because truthfully I have NO clue what we would do for childcare without her. We work nights... finding a daycare that does nights would be awful and not easy. I thank the good lord every day that my mom is able to do this for us because I hate working days and have no desire and neither does D and unfortunately both of us have to work.

We're still struggling with the feeding issue. I'm still nursing... If you would have told me that at 20.5 months Squeaker would still be nursing when he was first born I would have told you you were nuts. Primarily because it took us SO very long to get the hang of breastfeeding... now it's easy. In the beginning it was SOOOOOO HARD. I hated people who thought it was easy. I have a friend who would tell me on the phone how easy breastfeeding was in comparison with pumping. I wanted to poke her eyes out. Thankfully she never visited because I was able to refrain from doing that. I don't know how long we'll nurse for. I assume at least until he's 2. After that I'm not sure. A part of me leans toward the child led weaning. The other part of me wants my body back.

In dog news... we still have all 5 dogs. They still drive us nuts on an almost daily basis. However Blue (one of the pups) is in love with Squeaker. It's the sweetest thing to see him come running from the bedroom. Stop give Squeaker a nudge and Squeaker give him a pat. Then head to the door. The two of them if given the opportunity would be inseparable. I have images in my mind of what the next few years will look like with the two of them.

D's parents are still... well still D's parents. I try not to let them bother me. Unfortunately next week my FIL is coming and the week after that both my FIL and MIL will be coming to visit. So I'm sure I'll have much to talk about. Lets just say I'm not extremely excited about these visits. I'm tolerant of them. They're his parents and they make him as nuts as they do me. So that's in my favor.

Ultimately life is good... and that's all I can ask for.

Winning the food war?

One of the things I never thought I'd worry about as a parent was how much my child weighed, how tall he was or how much he ate. Then SD was born and well... lets just say that thought went right out the window.

It started with him being such a sucky eater that we were doing weekly weight checks for the first 6 weeks of his life. I thought once we got through that stretch that we were home free. I was wrong.

A few weeks ago my mom had a meltdown in regards to SD's eating habits or lack there of. He sucks in regards to eating. It's not that we haven't tried to offer a variety of foods its that the kid is just not into eating. Seeing as I'm fighting the battle of the bulge and have been for a number of years and D loves food well we have no idea who he takes after in regards to his eating habits. I personally think he got the rogue gene of my sister as she was and still is a notoriously picky eater.

I'll admit to some embarrassment at my son's petite size. When others ask how old he is and I tell them and they then give me a sideways look as if to say "You're kidding right he's very small if he's truly that age." Having to say "Yes, my son is small for his age." Having a coworker who's 9-10 month old is the same weight as my son... well that just sucks. I'm jealous of those of you whose kid falls in the 50th percentile for height and weight... as we are hopefully still on the chart and may in fact now have fallen off the damn chart. We have our 18 month appointment coming soon... I'll admit to not feeling particularly cheery about it as the whole feeding thing just causes anxiety.

I've tried to keep it light... to just say it's his age that is making him such a little shit about eating. I've posted on parenting boards and have been reassured briefly that this too shall pass. But to be honest it's something we've been dealing with for a number of months. I have no end in sight and right now this morning he ate "okay" meaning - for him he ate a good amount. For those other kids he ate a puny amount.

So - this is me... trying not to compare him to others and reminding myself that neither of his parents are tall... that his father was petite at a young age. That he looks like his grandpa and well short and stubby is in his genes. I'd just like him to fill out a bit more. Or at least not feel as if I'm at war with my kid about food. Because right now I don't feel as if I've won the battle and feel as if I'm dangerously close to losing the war.

Suggestions are welcome...