Life Family and the Pursuit of Sanity

or… adventures in infertility and babies and family drama!

Big Boy December 14, 2010

Filed under: Baby G,We're parents? — arminta @ 3:02 pm

Chunky

Bruiser

Brute

Giant

Hefty

Chubby

Chunkle

 

 

That is a short list of the adjectives I regularly hear describe my baby. My very average sized baby. At his last check up he was heavier than he was long, but both height and weight were well within the norm for his age. His pediatrician kindly pointed out that as his parents were both heavier than they are long, this is to be expected. But, again, he was well within the norm’s for all of his growth measurements. Well within.

 

That said, yes, he is a solid baby. He is not soft and squishy. He is solid and sturdy and strong. He is a big boy. But he is not fat. He is not even really chunky. He’s got a thigh roll, but that’s about it. He’s not thin, he’s just stocky. Like his Daddy. Actually, he’s got big thighs and little calves like his Daddy, too!

 

So, I am confused as to why people find it necessary to constantly be on about how big my baby is. He’s not that freaking big! But, every time we see anyone the first thing they say is how big he is, or how big he’s getting, or how chubby he is. Even my freaking doctor (GP) went on about how “chunky” he is. I’m also getting a fair few comments about how I must be making “buttermilk.”

 

I don’t guess this would bother me if it weren’t for the fact that yes, his growth is directly linked to my milk. As in, if he’s not growing properly my body is failing both of us. If he’s too big then I must be doing something wrong, right? WRONG!!!!! Babies all grow differently and some are big and some are small. And mine is just-fucking-right! But, I do hear “your milk is bad” when people say “your baby is big.” Because I’m a self conscience freak like that. That’s my issue. I’m able to recognize it and shut it down.

 

Except… when my husband says “Why is the baby so big?” and “I’ve noticed whenever he cries you stick a tit in his mouth.” and the creme de la creme “I just don’t want him to develop diabetes, maybe we should give him formula.”

 

Of course there’s no point in stating once again that my baby is WELL-FUCKING-WITHIN the norm for his age. I also would be wasting my breath to remind that he sees 2-3 feedings a day at most during the week, maybe one when gets home from work, one before bed and sometimes one in the night. So let’s see… 5-6pm, 8-9pm and 3am. Yes, I am definitely overfeeding the baby. NOT! Also, apparently last night RIGHT BEFORE he started this nonsense perhaps he should have been paying more attention to us and less to the laptop, and he’d have seen me ROCK the crying, overstimulated baby (not stick a tit in his mouth) to get him settled down BEFORE his bedtime feeding. Since there is no point in bringing any of this up, as I’d just be “getting defensive” I guess I just have to wonder how in the hell formula is supposed to prevent the baby developing diabetes?!?!?

 

Unless what he’s really saying is that there’s something wrong with my milk… So, maybe I’m not being so paranoid after all?

 

A Really Boring List That I Will Totally Understand If You Don’t Read December 13, 2010

The babies are both sleeping! So here is a quick update on the haps at casa Minta!

 

  • After thinking about it constantly for a couple of days, I did decide to test. It was negative. Well, G says it was negative. I am insane and always see some kind of shadow line. Well, this time it was there, then it wasn’t, then it came back. Which means I am insane. Because even when I don’t really-really-really want to see a line, apparently my brain still wants to see a line.
  • I will be 31 on Wednesday. Boo! But also, yay. I’m feeling a little odd about my birthday this year.
  • Enbrel has been restarted. RA relief has happened almost immediately. Oh, right, I never told you… I have been having the worst RA pain of my life since about 8 weeks postpartum. I have been living on the steroids, which has slowed the weight loss way the heck down 😦 So, I saw the rheumy and now am back on the drugs. Am starting to feel better already. She had thought it might take months…
  • Prednisone step down here we come!
  • Hopefully weight loss will pick back up.
  • Have now lost 72 pounds! Which is only two pounds since last time I told you, a month ago. Hence the joy at the pednisone going way.
  • Wii Fit has been resumed. I was too fat for it for a while (even not pregnant…) but now am back on track with it!
 

Bean Remembered

Filed under: Blueberry Bean,Miscarriage — arminta @ 12:05 am

This weekend was really great. We finished getting the lights on the tree. We did some Christmas shopping. G bought me Twilight Eclipse for my birthday. Baby G was his normal smiley happy self (of course, until 5pm when I-really-should-have-napped-and-now-am-exhausted kicked in, but then he took a nap and all was better). We spent today at my mom’s being all Christmassy and happy as a family while it snowed. All-in-all, great weekend.

 

Of course, as great as it was there was something missing. There is always something missing. But this particular weekend, that something felt gigantic. What we did not do this weekend seemed to linger in my mind all day yesterday. Because, what we did not do was celebrate Bean’s first birthday.

 

Obviously, we don’t know when Bean would have been born had (s)he made it, but the EDD was yesterday, 12/11. Making yesterday the first anniversary of the unfulfilled due date. Yesterday could have been his/her first birthday. But, it wasn’t. My Bean doesn’t have a birthday. Just a death-day.

 

So, the EDD came and went. No one noticed except me. It’s almost as if (s)he never was. But (s)he was. For 11 short weeks my Bean fought to survive. Slow hcg doubling and small for gestational age my Bean fought. But, the fight was lost. Mommy remembers. Mommy always remembers.

 

3 Months – Things to Remember December 6, 2010

Filed under: Baby G — arminta @ 1:48 pm

Dear Baby G,

Mommy has pretty much sucked at making regular notes of what you’re up to. Luckily, she has been very good at taking photo’s, so at least we’ll remember what you looked like. But, today as you were going down for your morning nap you were rubbing your eyes, I wanted to remember it forever. Here are some other things you are up to right now at 14w2d old:

 

– You suck your fingers. You try for the thumb, and sometimes get it, but usually end up sucking your left index finger. You wake me up in the night sucking on it and that’s how I know you’re hungry before you wake up.

– You rarely wake up in the night. I hear you munching and sucking your hands and feed you, but you are mostly still asleep for this.

– You hold onto my finger while you’re eating.

– You smile, a lot. A lot. You have a bashful smile, and a delighted smile and an amused smile and a million other smiles. You love to smile. You are a happy baby.

– You have started acting interested in what Daddy and I are eating. (For the record: It’s disgusting, and you don’t want to try it for like 12 more weeks at  minimum.)

– You make the most adorable face right before you cry. Bottom lip out, cheeks red, eyes squinched, it’s positively adorable.

– You don’t make that face very often, because you don’t cry very often. Although, you had two days last week where you went on long crying jags. It made me feel very grateful that you never were colicky.

– I wish my fingernails grew as quickly as yours. Your hands look like Uncle Chris’s and your feet like Uncle Parker’s.

– You like facing forward in your carriers so you can see the world. Daddy and I try to show you something new every weekend.

– Your head is soft and fuzzy like a peach.

– You mostly wear 6 months clothes right now, but have some 3’s and some 9’s that fit. Carter’s brand fits you best because your torso is long.

– You love to be naked.

– You can sit up in your boppy if you also have a pillow behind you.

– You don’t like to bend at the middle.

– You do like to stand on laps and tables.

– Your favorite toys are your keys, a triangle shaped teether and a monkey with light up cheeks. You do also like your little blue phone and Poo rattle. You like your frog rattle, but you konk yourself in the head with it.

– You love books. Especially Cat in the Hat and Pokey Little Puppy.

– You make the sweetest little sound when you swallow. Half grunt/half sigh.

– You blow spit bubbles.

– You did not get your nap out, and we need to lay back down.

 

Love you forever,

 

Mommy

 

Be Still My Infertile Brain December 4, 2010

Filed under: Baby G,Infertility,We're parents? — arminta @ 8:53 pm

I am constipated. Not like haven’t pooped in days constipated (that just doesn’t happen to me, I pooped the day after giving birth), but like my poops are HARD. This is abnormal for me. This is sometimes a pregnancy sign for me. This has my brain spinning.

 

I was really hoping that after having my Baby G that this type of insanity would go away. That I would no longer wonder if every little abnormality could possibly be a sign of being pregnant. I was really hoping that I’d no longer think “I had to pee twice last night, and my poop was hard as a rock and I have a headache… should I test?” after getting through a successful pregnancy.

 

But alas, this is indeed how I am starting to think again. Which makes me wonder if birth control would not be a waste of money just to prevent this insanity. Because, we aren’t using birth control now. Well, unless you count pulling out and breast feeding. Which no one who’s serious about not getting pregnant does. But… truth be told we haven’t been that serious about not getting pregnant again. Our attitude has pretty much been if we’re lucky enough to be part of the “pregnant before the first postnatal period” group, then so be it. We always wanted more than one child and if they end up Irish twins, then so be it. If we don’t get pregnant again for a couple of years, then so be it.

 

That was our attitude. Which is why the haphazard birth control (the OB says wait until March to try again, which is why any birth control is being used, again if we can call pulling out and breast feeding birth control). But… if I’m being completely honest (and if I can’t be completely honest here, then why do I blog?) I don’t really want to get pregnant again right away. I’m scared of saying that and of attempting to prevent because I feel like if I miss any chances on purpose, then can’t ever get pregnant again I’ll regret it. The truth is obviously, after all we’ve been through another baby would be a blessing, and I would never consider it otherwise. I love being a mommy. LOVE IT. It is so much more than I thought it would be.

 

Which is why I’m not super thrilled at the idea of becoming pregnant again right away… Baby G just got here. I don’t feel like I’ve had time to fully enjoy him. I don’t feel ready to split the love and attention I’ve waited so long to shower on him. I’m so content with just him right now. And he is such a good baby. He is the very definition of easy baby. He sleeps great, he eats great, he’s smiley and happy most of the time. I just really want to soak him up. I don’t want to be shared, I want to be all his. For now.

 

So, I’m conflicted. My brain is so used to wanting to be pregnant that it sees pregnancy around every corner, and while I certainly wouldn’t consider it a bad thing, my heart is content right where we are and wants to enjoy it a while longer. Of course, neither brain nor heart has any control over the ovaries who may or may not cooperate with either of them!

 

What a Difference a Year Can Make December 1, 2010

Filed under: Baby G,Miscarriage,We're parents? — arminta @ 12:19 am

There is a commercial that makes me cry. Only one, you ask? Well, truthfully, no. I think my hormones have finally become female and I cry a lot more, now. My husband likes to make jokes about finally having a girl for a wife. But, I digress…

There is a commercial that makes me cry. Tears of joy and sadness, but mostly joy. Last year this same commercial made me shout things at the TV and turn the channel and chuck whatever was in my hand at the floor (because “Hello, let’s not fuck up the TV just because your depressed”). It’s amazing what a difference a year can make.

(I can’t find it on YouTube, but it’s the one where a woman is rocking a baby and her husband comes in and she asks why he’s up, it’s 2am and he says 2am on Christmas, our first as a family and they hug and rainbows shoot from their asses. OK, no rainbows shoot from their asses, but you get my point.)

Last year the pain of a looming unrealized due date and another early miscarriage were so strong that the thought of this commercial hurt. Watching it was nearly impossible. I hated those commercial people. I hated them and wished their Christmas tree would catch fire.

This year, I am much less of a bitch. This year I am looking forward to my own holiday firsts. This year I have a living baby. And he is awesome. And I am going out of my way to make things awesome for him, although I am fully aware that he will not remember this when he is a grown up. Or potentially even next week. Because I just love him that much. I’m sorry to be all gushy and sappy and gross, but for real, I am so in love with this baby. Which makes me be less of a bitch in general, but especially to the commercial people. Which makes me realize that I am happy. I am actually, honest to goodness, no shit happy. (Obviously, still with issues, but generally, overall happy.)

And honestly, how can one not be happy with this sleeping in their bed every night (I already told you we co-sleep…)?

OK, I don’t let him sleep in the hat. Or with the Christmas lights. But, seriously, those eyes can make everything better. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to say I’m glad for our losses, but I can say that knowing him I wouldn’t change it. I wouldn’t take back the pain if it meant not having him.

Enough of this depressingness… More Christmas pictures of the baby!

He really wanted to eat those lights!

Those cheeks are every bit as yummy as they look

(BTW… I made the hat and took the photo’s! Yes, I am bragging a little, but as this is a space solely dedicated to talking about me, I figure it’s not really inappropriate…)