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...

It's the End of the Year As We Know It...

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.

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.

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...

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

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.

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...

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.

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.

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.

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...