The Official Announcement.

May 13, 2010

The first time we got pregnant, it was an answer to our prayers. 
The second time was our very own little miracle. 
And our third time??? Well... our third time's a charm! ;)

Happy Mother's Day!

Mother's Day 2010...  May 9 to be exact.  Exactly 1 month from the 1st day of my last period...  

We spent the day with family at my mom's house.  It was a beautiful day so we spent the majority of it outside, chasing the kids around.   It was a pretty relaxing day...  and we had family visiting from out of town as well.  All in all a pretty fab day.  There was only 1 thing missing.  My period. 

When the end of the day arrived and there was not one single sign of it, I pretty much instantly knew.  And I didn't know what to think.  I told myself I would take a pregnancy test the next day, if my period didn't come.  Admittedly I secretly hoped it would.  But knew deep down it wasn't going to. 

So when Monday rolled around and I was still period free I took a deep breath, peed on a stick and waited.  And there it was...  staring at me.  A big fat, "Pregnant"sign.  I was stunned.  And stood there frozen.  I'm... pregnant?  Again??  In my heart of hearts I was happy, but at that moment I couldn't believe it.  And I wasn't sure I was ready.  Haha, well...  ready or not!?!  

I immediately called my husband at work to tell him the news.  And while on the phone I burst into tears.  Not because I wasn't happy about the little being growing in my belly, but because I was just so mixed emotionally.  I thought about my sweet baby boy and how it would affect him.  I wasn't as concerned about my daughter since she is older, but I found myself in the same situation as before, wondering how this would affect my nursing relationship with my son.  At least I had the full 9/10 months to prepare!  :)

I did not plan on having a 3rd baby.  I did not plan on having a 2nd baby for that matter.  I put it all in Gods hands and there I was...  growing another baby in my belly.  Here we go again! 

Our life.

Shortly before my daughter turned 3 we enrolled her in preschool.  We found a great school with a low student to teacher ratio which would result in her receiving a lot of 1 on 1 attention.  We felt confident she would thrive and her enthusiasm for going assured us we did the right thing.  And having that little bit of extra time to spend with my baby boy was pretty priceless. My heart was so warm.  And so happy. 

My daughters 3rd birthday was a pretty big milestone for me.  I was so happy to see my baby girl grow and yet so sad to see the same.  Her turning 3 coupled with the fact that my baby boy just turned 1 left me crying tears of so many emotions.  I felt like time was being taken from me and I wanted to just hold on and stand still.

We were coming up on early April (2010) and were scheduled to fly to the east coast to visit my IL's.  We were definitely looking forward to the trip, but for some reason I just couldn't pull myself together to get us all ready.  I felt like it was "Moving Day" all over again.  Why, I wondered??  I had no reason to feel anything but totally excited!!  I'm thinking it was the fact that I started my period the day before we were supposed to leave...  I was probably having some bad PMS and on the day I started was having god awful cramps.  Labor pain cramp like.  Left me stopped in my tracks while trying to make lunch for my babes.   Thank goodness I was able to rally through and as they slowly went away my anxiety turned to total excitement!!  Our packing was almost completely done and I couldn't wait for my husband to get home so we could finalize plans for early the next morning.  I wasn't happy about traveling while on my period, but after all was said and done, it wasn't even a blip on my radar.  We always had a great time when we visited the IL's and I was excited to be taking my babies there for the 1st time!!  A little worried about the airport/plane ride, but just figured my husband would help keep our daughter company and I would just nurse my son when he needed/wanted.  It was a full proof plan that worked like a charm.

Our trip was a total success.  We had a super fabulous and uneventful time.  I was feeling pretty great and and pretty proud of my awesome little travelers for adjusting so amazingly.  The time change didn't mess with us much and we were all back to our daily life in no time.  My daughter went back to school, my husband went back to work and my baby boy and I spent more time together.  Our lives, the lives we created, felt fulfilled.  But...  I was definitely ready for our next adventure.  Whenever that would be. 

You have a boy and a girl... you're done, right?

C'mon... how many of you have heard this??  

It seems to be the 1st thing people say to you when they A) find out you have 2 or more children and B) that you have at least 1 boy and 1 girl.  And when I would say, "I don't know" or "we'll see", I would get a look that I must be crazy.  Really?  Is it so crazy to actually want more babies??  

The truth was I didn't know.  All I knew was that my son was really high maintenance and was still, at 16 months, not sleeping thru the night.  He slept in our bed for the most part and woke up frequently throughout the night to nurse.  He was nearing in on 18 months and in my mind that was the magical age where life gets a little easier...  so, did I want more babies?  Did I want to go through all of this again?  

Well, no matter what answer I came up with, the one constant was I had no plans for birth control.  I pretty much decided I was done with all that noise after going through what we did to get pregnant the 1st time.  I just didn't think about it...

Moving Day.

I feel the need to post about this day as it was one that was particularly trying for me.  It was not only the 1st day I ventured out, alone, with both of my babies, but it was also the day I would leave one home and come home to another.  It was a big day, indeed.

I woke up in the morning with the thought that I had to get some sort of food together for my daughter since we would be gone most of the day and my pick was limited since everything was pretty much packed away.  So I fed her breakfast, packed up my diaper and snack bag, got everyone dressed and kissed my husband good bye.  He assured me everything would be taken care of and really, I didn't have a single doubt.  I was purely focused on how I was going to handle the day with a 2-week old who was not fond of car rides and an almost 2-year old who liked to run away from her mama.  I double and quadruple checked to make sure I had my stroller in my car.  

I actually had plans that day.  And no, it wasn't a fun day with friends where I could just sit at their home while my baby girl ran around and played...  I had to take her to an audition about an hour away via one of the cities most busiest freeways.  Blah.  Traffic, bad traffic, was inevitable.  

We arrived at the audition and it was one of those where we had to wait...  and wait.  I consistently handed my baby girl snacks and when lunch time slowly crept up I began to worry that I didn't have much of the way of "substantial" food.  I hoped the snacks I had would hold her over.  And they did.  Of course by the time they finally called us in my sweet patient baby boy was ready to nurse. And when they called her name I just stood up, holding my nursing baby boy, and pushed her stroller in the room.  I had to take her out when we got in there and I managed it with one hand.  The audition called for her to dance around next to a guy - presumably someone who would play her daddy in the commercial - and as soon as the music started and the guy started dancing she wanted no part of it.  She had no interest whatsoever.  Sooooo back in the stroller she went and we made our way out to some nearby benches where I could finish nursing.  I was pretty agitated by this point.  Not at all because my baby girl didn't want to partake, but because they made us wait so long and because I did not want to be there.  At all.  And yet, I had nowhere else to go.  I had to wait until everything was moved into our new place.  

My memory of what happened next is a little faded...  I remember trying to secure my daughter back into her stroller to walk to our car and she didn't like it.  She tried to fight me and as she arched her back trying to get out of the stroller I just looked at her, almost in defeat and continued to hold and nurse my son.  Eventually she sat and let me click the straps.  There was not an ounce of fight on my end and I'm thinking she realized her mama needed her to cut me some slack.  Thank goodness.  

We got into the car and began our long drive home...  by this time traffic was sure to be even worse than before so I tried my best to brace for the possibility of having to pull over multiple times for my baby boy.  I also needed to get my baby girl home for dinner.  Yes, dinner time was fast approaching.  

As we got closer to our new home the traffic slowed to almost a complete halt.  And it started to get dark out.  I heard my daughter coughing in the back and didn't think much of it until I heard a faint gasp and then her calling out to me.  I looked up in my rear-view mirror and there was just enough light for me to see that she had thrown up all over herself and her car seat.  In her 21 months of life it was the first time she had ever thrown up and it just happened to be while I was completely stuck.  I had no way of getting off the freeway at that point.  The 1st thing I could think to do was to call my sister, who fortunately lived a mere 5 minutes from our new place.  I informed her that my baby girl had just gotten sick and I would make my way there as fast as possible.  She offered to run a bath and to make us some dinner.  Steamed rice for my baby girl and her sour belly.  

When we arrived, my nieces came and got my daughter and I carried my son up in his car seat.  He stayed asleep, bless his little heart.  They gave her a bath while I soaked, scrubbed, cleaned and dried her car seat.  I couldn't imagine that she had any sort of stomach flu and after her bath when she sat and literally chowed on steamed rice I realized that this was completely my fault.  I had failed, 100%, at providing her a healthy meal that day and the variety of snacks she was given just made her sick.  My poor baby girl.  Fortunately I had the mind set to pack enough extra clothes, including jammies, for my babies and by the time we did arrive home they were both all ready for bed.  I had given my husband a heads up that we were on our way home so he could make sure to have her crib set up.  My baby girl fell asleep quickly after we got back into the car and she was an easy transfer to her bed when we got home.  My son stayed asleep long enough for me to sit and look around...  My husband had already gotten so much done as far as unpacking went.  I felt so lucky.  So relieved.  So thankful for him.  And so very thankful for my family coming to my rescue.  

There was nothing left to do, but begin our lives together, as a family, in our new place.  I sat on our couch, looked over at my husband and was overcome with feelings of goodness.  I felt at peace.  I felt like I was...  home.  And with that our earlier adventures quickly became a page in our past and I couldn't wait to wake up the next morning. 

Post Baby Blues...

Not depression...  just...  blue.  

It is hard to believe that after such an incredible, (one of the most incredible) moment it is possible to feel anything but absolutely amazing and high from the idea that this new little beautiful, precious baby has entered your life.  But, I did.  And I think it is a combination of those natural high cloud 9 feelings mixed with the sad blue feelings that make it so confusing and hard to comprehend.  They clash, in a way.  

We arrived home in the early evening of January 1, 2009 and I couldn't wait to introduce my baby girl to her new baby brother.  We walked in the door and my daughter was very happy to see us, but a little weirded out by the tiny little bundle I was holding in my arms.  My mom and sisters had been staying with her so she was having a great time.  And my apartment was spotlessly cleaned and my mom had cooked up a storm.  Something we are all always so very thankful for.  At first my daughter wasn't into the idea of a formal introduction to her brother so we just gave her the space she needed until she was ready.  Which happened to be the very next day.  She sat on our love sac (foam bean bag) and asked to hold her baby brother.  It was the sweetest moment.  I cried.  Of course... 

I will admit, our 1st night at home was R-O-U-G-H.  I was prepared for the nursing on demand and knew that I wouldn't be getting much sleep, but for some reason it was just different than when we first arrived home with my daughter.  Aside from only being a day old my baby boy already required way more attention...  Attention I had absolutely no problem giving, it was just an adjustment phase.  Naturally.  He needed to be changed with practically every wet diaper because if I wasn't fast enough to change him he would leak.  Man, baby boys pee A LOT!  And if you don't change fast enough you are surely to get peed on as well!  So my awesome husband and I spent most of our nights nursing him, changing his diapers AND jammies and then re-swaddling him, only to do it all over again an hour later.  Add to that my baby girl waking up a 5am and wanting to nurse and come to our bed with us...  Of course we let her.  That 1st night/morning my husband offered to take my baby boy to the couch with him while my baby girl and I nursed and cuddled, but I wasn't about to let that happen.  Nope.  We all cuddled in our bed and my babies took turns at my breast.  And then we tried our best to sleep until at least 7am!  Sometimes we'd stretch it to 8!  By then I had to get up to make breakfast and start our day...  This all sounds pretty normal right?  Why would I be sad at all?  Well...  there were a few bumps in our road ahead.

Because my husband is completely dedicated to his family AND to his job he wasn't able to get out of the already scheduled inventory at his company.  Especially since he is the manager and had to be there to supervise his dept.  So about 10 days after we returned home he had to go back to work for 3 nights - starting at around 8pm and not returning until somewhere between 2-4am.  Which meant I was on my own at bedtime and throughout the night...  My daughter was still nursing to sleep as was my son (of course!) and I felt like a complete failure at managing my time between my babies.  They both needed me so and I had to make them both feel 100% loved and soothed.  I settled for nothing less.  Most nights I ended up on the couch, nursing them both after neither one of them would go to sleep.  Once my husband was home and in bed he never once hesitated to still get up to help me, which I felt so lucky to have, but of course I made him rest up as much as he could.  Mornings came and I would do my best to juggle a crying newborn while making eggs for my baby girl.  I wasn't smart enough to have a sling back then so I would just hold him and cook with one hand or put him in his swing and hope and pray he wouldn't cry.  Once breakfast was made and my daughter was eating peacefully I could sit and just swoon over my son.  And by then my husband insisted on getting up to be there for us and with us throughout the day.  

By this time his parents had flown into town to visit their brand new grandson.  They were (still are!) so proud.  They were staying at a nearby hotel and as soon as everyone was up, dressed and able we would go visit them at their hotel for breakfast or lunch or to simply hang out and visit.  Admittedly it was difficult for me to muster up the strength to leave the house...  healing after the birth was rougher than I had anticipated.  And I was just plain exhausted.  Never the less getting outside always felt nice and the fresh air was something we all most definitely needed.  And when I felt I just couldn't do it they had no problem coming to us.  They spoiled us with love and support and I secretly hoped the birth of their grandson would persuade them to move closer to us...  I still haven't given up on that hope. 

There was one more bump in the road...  We had given notice to move out of our apartment and needed to be out by January 15th.  Yep,  two weeks after my son was born we had to pack up and get out.  And nothing in my apartment was packed.  Nothing.  I was so not ready for this. It was our decision to move and something we needed to do for financial reasons, but still, I was dreading it.  Immensely.  I felt at a complete loss.  I didn't want to leave it all up to my husband to take care of, even though he was completely willing and able, but there was literally not one single part of me that felt I could handle the stress of it all.  Which also made me feel horrible.  I am also not very good (at all!) about asking for help.  It's just not in my nature...  something I need to work on, for sure.  So when my amazing friends called and begged to come over and help I repeatedly told him "no thank you".  My exceedingly generous IL's (In-Laws) heard we needed to buy a fridge for our apt. and took us shopping to pick one out.  They didn't even question it.  We needed it?  They were going to provide it for us.  They also offered to pay for movers when they heard we planned to do it all ourselves....  So we graciously took them up on their offers and tried our best to express our heartfelt gratitude.

Our 2 leases overlapped so we could take our time moving in and we were able to kill 2 birds with one stone by meeting the delivery company for the fridge and the gas company guy all in the same day (at the new apt).  My daughter immediately chose the room she wanted and in fact the day we were there waiting she and my husband took a nap together, on the carpet, in the room she still sleeps in today.  I wound up taking a little walk with my baby boy while looking around our new neighborhood.  Things were looking up.

It was January 13th, the last morning of my husbands inventory and ONE day before our movers were scheduled. And there was still so much to be done.  I got a call from a very good girlfriend of mine and I must have been feeling completely vulnerable because after her many offers and persuasions I ultimately gave up and let her come over to help.  She has a son my daughters age and so I also knew they would be happy to see each other.  After visiting with my baby boy for a bit she just took over and packed up my entire kitchen.  In no time at all.  My heart was filled with love and gratefulness.  I have to add that this is also the same girlfriend who had her husband stop by a couple days after we got home with a big ole' box of gifts and homemade delicious food for us.  She knew that if I saw her I would invite her in, but that I wasn't quite ready for visitors so she sent her husband up to drop it off with a note that we would see her soon.  She rescued me that morning.  And I am forever thankful to her.

By the end of that day we were somehow close to 95% ready for the movers.  My husband stepped up huge and practically packed up our entire place.  I managed to pack up a few things here and there, but I take no credit for getting us ready.  I know how tremendously lucky I am to have such remarkable people in my life.  And with that...  moving day fast approached.  Like it or not.  January 14th was upon us. 

New life.

One of the reasons I chose to pursue a VBAC was because I knew that a vaginal birth would "require less hospital" time for me.  And I was in a hurry to get back home to my baby girl.  I was in no hurry to rush any after birth bonding with my son, but I also felt that we, as a family, needed to start bonding right away.  

After my son was born I remember feeling much more awake and alert.  I knew this time around that there was absolutely NO WAY that I would go anywhere close to hours without my son by my side.  I didn't have to overcome any drug effects and I sure as heck didn't have to sleep any off either.  They measured him, weighed him and got all necessary information in the very room he was born in, just as before, but after wrapping him up and bringing him to me they walked away, giving us ample time to bond before they had to move us to post delivery.  I could barely hold back the tears.  I was beaming with a sense of accomplishment that I birthed my son into this world against the overall popular notion that because I had a cesarean before I had to have another.  And the truth is if I wound up having another cesarean I would've been ok with it.  But I knew that IF it were to happen, it would be absolutely because of necessity and not because of convenience.  It was going to be my decision.  You know... my choice. 

He looked up at me with such open eyes and I couldn't believe he was mine.  I couldn't wait to try nursing him.  He was sucking on my finger for a while and a few of my family members came in to visit and to see my brand new gorgeous baby boy.  

They asked to take him for his 1st bath and since they were also going to move me to my next stop, post delivery, I allowed them to bathe him in the nursery and was assured that my husband would stay by his side the entire time.  And after a few short moments he was back with me in my room. They had him in one of those little plastic see through cribs and rather than leaving him there, I scooped him up and laid him next to me, in my hospital bed.  Where he slept for the rest of our stay.  Swaddled and cozy, right next to his mommy.  

We were successful when it came to nursing and I wondered how my baby girl would handle having to take turns, especially since my son would be nursing on demand, whenever he wanted.  They actually wound up being our most beautiful moments. There were a few instances where I would be nursing them both, at the same time, one on each breast, and my daughter would reach out her hand to hold her brothers hand.  Oh my, it was so beautiful.  So Amazing.  So Lovely.  True sibling bonding.  And all at my breast, where they both sought nourishment, comfort, love and soothing.  I was so thankful for those moments.  

My son was born on New Years Eve and because everything went so marvelously we were able to check out and go home the very next day.  January 1st, 2009 we were all together, as a family, and were eager to go about living our lives.