We did it, Luxie!
We survived moving you and really, it went so smoothly I don't know what I was all worked up about in the first place.
I think it really just boils down to me tripping down Memory Lane, remembering how we started...bringing you home from the hospital (grrrr...am weirdly struggling with this topic, now after six months) and curling up into each other.
We may have technically separated at your birth but it sure didn't seem so, especially at night.
I remember you sleeping on my belly, with my hands placed on your back to stay you, both of us breathing in-time together, warm, safe, so loved.
Or...
I would curve my body around yours and you'd sleep inside that curve, with your little feet standing on my drawn up legs.
We'd stay like this together all night long.
And I'd never slept better.
SO, to spend time in those memories and then realize that it's time to move you out and on your own (I am so dramatic. I mean, even I am realizing this at this point. You're like a foot away from me in your little crib.)...it just STINKS that you are getting so big so fast.
And yet, I love every single minute.
You are pure sunlight and joy.
Rainbows and butterflies.
Big dopey toothless grins and pudgy rolls of baby dough.
I can't be in your presence and not be all over you.
(And you can't be in mine either. You are SO DAMN CUTE when you see me and want me. You start whimpering and leaning away from whoever is holding you and making desperate, desperate eye contact with me. You elbowed your father in the neck tonight as he walked past me with you in his arms, in your attempt to drop magically into my lap.)
Back to the whole sleep thing:
You're really moving fast, little lady, so we had to scrap the she-goes-in-her-new-room! program and just get you somewhere safe.
On Saturday, I had left you sleeping in bed in the morning and boxed you in with big pillows but when you woke (I heard you on the monitor), my heart went wild and I sprinted up the stairs in a panic.
You were fine, but I knew then that way down deep, I'd passed my comfort zone with keeping you in bed alone and needed to listen to those feelings because I didn't last time with Creux and I already told you how I almost, like, broke his FACE doing that.
So I came down with you that morning and declared that you were moving into the crib thing that very afternoon and by golly, that's precisely what happened.
I wasn't sure how you'd take to it--honestly, I expected the worst.
But I waited until you were really very sleepy, when you'd been fed and changed and needed nothing...and then I laid you down with Greer's old crib blanket (so swanky cute!) and a few toys...and I left.
You were happy to play there for a bit but I knew that you'd soon tire of that and realize that you were stuck there indefinitely.
Because I'm not good about letting you cry for a bit to just get settled (and sometimes you babies DO just need to vent for a few minutes and wail and wind down), I made myself busy.
I scurried off to the basement for some laundry and by the time I came up to fold it, you were wailing on the monitor.
My initial instinct was to say, "Tsk, I knew she'd hate that. She just needs me to nurse her and she'll be fine."
That's ALWAYS my instinct because I don't like to hear my babies fussing ever and I know that I can fix just about anything for you.
But I promised myself that I wouldn't go to you until I finished folding the load and I stuck to it.
As I neared the bottom, you were still crying but stopped almost immediately.
I snuck upstairs to peek at you and there you were, face-down and passed out, dreaming hard in your new crib.
I was so happy for you and yet so sad for us.
Really (oh the DRAMA of your mama!) it's not even that bad because we are still snuggling at night when I'm in bed with you.
It's just all the day-time sleeping that you are doing, now it's all in the crib.
It had mostly been in the swing still, which I have always hated but was a place where you simply wanted to sleep, but I'd started trying to encourage you to do some alone-in-the-bed sleeping too.
I was successful at that only sometimes but then my anxiety would spike, thinking of you hurtling off the bed in a freak fast-break.
Anyway, this is for the best and now, I'm totally good with it.
Five freaking kids in and I am the world's biggest WUSS apparently! Sheeze...
I love you so much, my big sleeper girl.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
You--26 Weeks, 5 Days
On the move, lady!
You're taking off over here and seem to be just over the moon about your newfound tricks!
I wouldn't exactly say that you're crawling but rather creeping...sliding, dragging, pulling.
You kind of move backwards which is something others of you kids have done.
Strangely, I get it.
(I can whistle that way and only that way. I can't whistle out but rather do it by sucking air back IN.
Weird Mom Fact for the day!)
You're sitting big, too!
Toppling over less and less though still not sturdy enough for me to remove all manner of pillow proppage but on your way.
And I just bought size THREE diapers, you pudgy little princess!
My girl is growing up.
Sniff.
I joke with the sniff (sort of) because I'm having so much fun with you.
Your personality is firmly in place and girl, you are FUNNY!
And you like to have fun which is fantastic because we are a houseful of regular jokesters.
Your room is coming along, too, Luxie.
Slowly but it's coming.
It's going to be gorgeous when it's through--almost so gorgeous that I'm excited to move you right on down the hall.
Well, not quite that gorgeous.
I still want you with me.
After I wrote about you moving out in the last post, I had a whopping case of back-pedaling.
Is a pack-n-play in my room so bad after all?
I mean, really? Is it?
You won't be there forever. (This is what I tell Daddy, who, frankly, is just fine with you moving out--he loves you, just wants his bed back. And wife. You and I are like peanut butter and jelly right now. You just don't separate them! EVER!!!)
These things have a way of working out though so I know to just let it roll however it rolls for me.
I might have major anxiety about it and realize that I'm just not ready on that day and then three days later, I'll be at peace with it.
(When it's time, weaning goes the same way. I just need to respect my own feelings on the matter because deep down, I know when I'm ready for changes and that usually goes hand-in-hand when you babies are ready. One does not go without the other for peace of mind.)
We'll see how we feel when the room is finished.
Who knows, you may take one look at the place and leap from my arms into the crib!
Yeah, I'm not counting on it either.
Anyway, I just thought I'd pop by here and say that you're still unbeatably the happiest baby on the block.
And that I love you so much.
XO
Mama
You're taking off over here and seem to be just over the moon about your newfound tricks!
I wouldn't exactly say that you're crawling but rather creeping...sliding, dragging, pulling.
You kind of move backwards which is something others of you kids have done.
Strangely, I get it.
(I can whistle that way and only that way. I can't whistle out but rather do it by sucking air back IN.
Weird Mom Fact for the day!)
You're sitting big, too!
Toppling over less and less though still not sturdy enough for me to remove all manner of pillow proppage but on your way.
And I just bought size THREE diapers, you pudgy little princess!
My girl is growing up.
Sniff.
I joke with the sniff (sort of) because I'm having so much fun with you.
Your personality is firmly in place and girl, you are FUNNY!
And you like to have fun which is fantastic because we are a houseful of regular jokesters.
Your room is coming along, too, Luxie.
Slowly but it's coming.
It's going to be gorgeous when it's through--almost so gorgeous that I'm excited to move you right on down the hall.
Well, not quite that gorgeous.
I still want you with me.
After I wrote about you moving out in the last post, I had a whopping case of back-pedaling.
Is a pack-n-play in my room so bad after all?
I mean, really? Is it?
You won't be there forever. (This is what I tell Daddy, who, frankly, is just fine with you moving out--he loves you, just wants his bed back. And wife. You and I are like peanut butter and jelly right now. You just don't separate them! EVER!!!)
These things have a way of working out though so I know to just let it roll however it rolls for me.
I might have major anxiety about it and realize that I'm just not ready on that day and then three days later, I'll be at peace with it.
(When it's time, weaning goes the same way. I just need to respect my own feelings on the matter because deep down, I know when I'm ready for changes and that usually goes hand-in-hand when you babies are ready. One does not go without the other for peace of mind.)
We'll see how we feel when the room is finished.
Who knows, you may take one look at the place and leap from my arms into the crib!
Yeah, I'm not counting on it either.
Anyway, I just thought I'd pop by here and say that you're still unbeatably the happiest baby on the block.
And that I love you so much.
XO
Mama
Sunday, January 2, 2011
You--24 Weeks, 6 Days
We made it through your first Christmas without a hitch and what a delight you were!
For me, there was no better gift.
Honestly, I could have received nothing and it would have still been one of my highest ranked holidays in history.
You slept late for your first Christmas and had us all to yourselves by the time you strolled down.
Miss Lay Zee Bones.
You are a girl after my own heart--we love our sleep-ins!
A new year upon us, too.
2011.
I guess I never really much considerd that you were born in a nice, even year (2010) so it's incredibly easy to figure out how old you'll be in (name that year).
The next six months are going to bring a WHOLE different you into the mix!
You're starting to move by rolling....I can put you down in one place and return just a minute or two later to see that you've rolled yourself over to whatever it is that caught your eye!
You're starting to sit up on your own briefly.
We can't leave you sitting up but you're able to hold your own (rather impressive) weight up for a lengthy ten seconds or so before veering off in one direction like a little drunkard.
You're pushing up well on those little arms in preparation for crawling which sets off mega-anxiety inside me because I walk through the house counting wee choking hazards littering the floor (all of which have been banned from the first level but you can see from just me writing this that I'm seriously going to have to crack down on these fools) and there are A MILLION!
We're not quite ready for you to take off just yet!
Just two days ago you gave me the fright of my life.
You'd fallen asleep sideways in the middle of my bed where you don't normally lay and I didn't box you in with any pillows, thinking that I didn't need to.
I checked on you periodically and you were happily snoozing.
But then I heard you on the monitor and I came up to find that you had wriggled almost to the edge of my side of the bed.
You must've been awake for awhile, quiet and BUSY.
(You'd also pooped your pants something HORRIFIC, child, and smuggled a foot free from your sleeper. How you managed THAT, I'm still contemplating.)
SO.
That's it for you, missy!
(I know I keep saying this but we had to get through the holidays first.)
You're moving out this month and my heart is just b-r-e-a-k-i-n-g.
I don't want you to go.
I love sleeping with you, rolling over and kissing your plump little cheek, being able to make sure you're warm, waking up to find that we're holding hands or that you're holding my hair.
I could keep you at night still (when I am in bed with you and can keep you safe) but I think it will be too confusing for you--that during the day, you can't sleep in our nest but at night, you can.
As much as I hate it, you're just going to have to go.
Way the hell down the hallway.
Far, far from me.
Sniff.
Six months old and flying the coop.
Sniff, sniff.
This whole month will be devoted to your the making of your very own bedroom and selfishly, I hope it takes that long so that we still have some time together.
Honestly though, this would be easiest if done quickly.
Like ripping off a band-aid.
Hmm.
But see I don't like ripping off band-aids...I am super gentle and peel off one eensy weensy corner and then just a tiny bit more after that...and in 20 minutes, I am band-aid free!
Sort of how it'll take me 29 more days to move you out :)
The only thing that will make this better for me is if I'm super excited about where you're going and if I make it how I think you would like for it to be.
Greer has cornered the market on the pinky/peach hue.
(And it is the PERFECT mix of pink and peach together, please believe.)
Which is fine because you are not pink to me, you never have been.
You...are lavender.
Very light lavendery walls with deeper purple accents.
Cozy and elegant.
I am reluctantly excited about this project--I'm happy to do this for you but at the same time, I'd just rather that you stay with me.
Forever.
(Okay, well maybe not forever, but for indefinite.)
Scott and Lynn were just here to celebrate the new year with us and they said, "She's not a pork chop, she's a lamb chop."
And it's so fitting, really it is!
The main word there is "chop" in case you didn't notice--be it pork or lamb, Luxie, you are DELICIOUSLY choppish.
But lamb is cuter than pork so that might stick as a name.
(Just be glad it isn't "sausage" because that's what Creux was called for the first year and a half of his fat little life.)
My favorite moments of most weeks right now are your "Home Spa Days."
Initially I hated (and I do mean hated) the little bath pod we bought for you.
But now you've grown into it a bit and we can stuff you down in it pretty well where you can't move a chubby little limb so I no longer feel like bath time is a watery version of Russian roulette.
You seem to just love this thing now and we give you a little Boon toy (the kind that will stick to the walls) and you chomp on that and splash and smile.
Daddy and I have been doing this together as I'd been terrified that I was going to drown you a month back so he took over...but then I missed bath time so now I hang out while he soaps you.
You're just so incredibly sweet sitting it in, water up to your tiny little shoulders, your sweet neck exposed in the back, your hair frizzing up from the humidity.
I think you're going to have curly hair like your big sister which is just so foreign to me.
I probably told you this before but when I was little (and on into college really) my hair was so straight that I couldn't even get it to hold curl AT ALL.
Now the texture of my hair is different, whether from age or babies (you kids really kind of wreck EVERYTHING ;)) who knows.
But Greer had these ringlet curls when she was little and they were so tight that I would stick my finger right up inside them and they would wind right around me.
You have just the most adorable beginnings of curls--wispy little flyaways that aren't quite long enough yet to do much of anything except stand out from your head.
You've moved fully into 6-9 month clothing and are outpacing my supply of baby girl hand-me-downs because Greer was on the tiny end of things. Her 6-9 month stuff is mostly spring wear and it's definitely NOT spring around here yet.
It's really not that big of a problem though because unlike my other babies (all of them), I prefer to keep you in pajamas.
All. Day. Long.
The sign of a successful day for me is if you remain in your sleepwear from night until the following night because it means that I did not have to drag you out in the cold that day.
I'm not a fan of babies going out in pajamas (weird little thing of mine) so if we go public I dress you, but if not, in pjs you stay alllllll the live long day!
You're not even really going out for date night anymore which is actually very nice.
If you're with us, I'm either nursing through dinner or Daddy is holding you the whole time so one of us is really kind of more caught up in you than in the date itself.
You're bigger now and can go longer stretches between feeds (3-4 hours) so I'll feed you right before we walk out the door and we're good for the night.
If we're planning a big chunk of time out, we'll go shopping...go home to nurse...then back out for dinner.
And maybe that sounds like an inconvenience but if it keeps you snug at home and keeps us free for awhile, it's totally worth the extra effort to make it happen.
No teeth yet but a rising interest in food.
We'll bring you to the table this month and see what happens though you're pretty content with your new sippy cups (of water).
Once you start taking solid food, you will take less of my milk and that's better for you than anything I can whip into a puree so we're putting it off for as long as possible.
Regardless, I'm excited to make room for you at our family table.
Officially.
(Meaning, lap-free as right now you slap the food right off my fork or attempt to sog us both by swiping the drink from my mouth. Fiesty little lap diner!)
Love to you, my little lamb chop.
Mama
For me, there was no better gift.
Honestly, I could have received nothing and it would have still been one of my highest ranked holidays in history.
You slept late for your first Christmas and had us all to yourselves by the time you strolled down.
Miss Lay Zee Bones.
You are a girl after my own heart--we love our sleep-ins!
A new year upon us, too.
2011.
I guess I never really much considerd that you were born in a nice, even year (2010) so it's incredibly easy to figure out how old you'll be in (name that year).
The next six months are going to bring a WHOLE different you into the mix!
You're starting to move by rolling....I can put you down in one place and return just a minute or two later to see that you've rolled yourself over to whatever it is that caught your eye!
You're starting to sit up on your own briefly.
We can't leave you sitting up but you're able to hold your own (rather impressive) weight up for a lengthy ten seconds or so before veering off in one direction like a little drunkard.
You're pushing up well on those little arms in preparation for crawling which sets off mega-anxiety inside me because I walk through the house counting wee choking hazards littering the floor (all of which have been banned from the first level but you can see from just me writing this that I'm seriously going to have to crack down on these fools) and there are A MILLION!
We're not quite ready for you to take off just yet!
Just two days ago you gave me the fright of my life.
You'd fallen asleep sideways in the middle of my bed where you don't normally lay and I didn't box you in with any pillows, thinking that I didn't need to.
I checked on you periodically and you were happily snoozing.
But then I heard you on the monitor and I came up to find that you had wriggled almost to the edge of my side of the bed.
You must've been awake for awhile, quiet and BUSY.
(You'd also pooped your pants something HORRIFIC, child, and smuggled a foot free from your sleeper. How you managed THAT, I'm still contemplating.)
SO.
That's it for you, missy!
(I know I keep saying this but we had to get through the holidays first.)
You're moving out this month and my heart is just b-r-e-a-k-i-n-g.
I don't want you to go.
I love sleeping with you, rolling over and kissing your plump little cheek, being able to make sure you're warm, waking up to find that we're holding hands or that you're holding my hair.
I could keep you at night still (when I am in bed with you and can keep you safe) but I think it will be too confusing for you--that during the day, you can't sleep in our nest but at night, you can.
As much as I hate it, you're just going to have to go.
Way the hell down the hallway.
Far, far from me.
Sniff.
Six months old and flying the coop.
Sniff, sniff.
This whole month will be devoted to your the making of your very own bedroom and selfishly, I hope it takes that long so that we still have some time together.
Honestly though, this would be easiest if done quickly.
Like ripping off a band-aid.
Hmm.
But see I don't like ripping off band-aids...I am super gentle and peel off one eensy weensy corner and then just a tiny bit more after that...and in 20 minutes, I am band-aid free!
Sort of how it'll take me 29 more days to move you out :)
The only thing that will make this better for me is if I'm super excited about where you're going and if I make it how I think you would like for it to be.
Greer has cornered the market on the pinky/peach hue.
(And it is the PERFECT mix of pink and peach together, please believe.)
Which is fine because you are not pink to me, you never have been.
You...are lavender.
Very light lavendery walls with deeper purple accents.
Cozy and elegant.
I am reluctantly excited about this project--I'm happy to do this for you but at the same time, I'd just rather that you stay with me.
Forever.
(Okay, well maybe not forever, but for indefinite.)
Scott and Lynn were just here to celebrate the new year with us and they said, "She's not a pork chop, she's a lamb chop."
And it's so fitting, really it is!
The main word there is "chop" in case you didn't notice--be it pork or lamb, Luxie, you are DELICIOUSLY choppish.
But lamb is cuter than pork so that might stick as a name.
(Just be glad it isn't "sausage" because that's what Creux was called for the first year and a half of his fat little life.)
My favorite moments of most weeks right now are your "Home Spa Days."
Initially I hated (and I do mean hated) the little bath pod we bought for you.
But now you've grown into it a bit and we can stuff you down in it pretty well where you can't move a chubby little limb so I no longer feel like bath time is a watery version of Russian roulette.
You seem to just love this thing now and we give you a little Boon toy (the kind that will stick to the walls) and you chomp on that and splash and smile.
Daddy and I have been doing this together as I'd been terrified that I was going to drown you a month back so he took over...but then I missed bath time so now I hang out while he soaps you.
You're just so incredibly sweet sitting it in, water up to your tiny little shoulders, your sweet neck exposed in the back, your hair frizzing up from the humidity.
I think you're going to have curly hair like your big sister which is just so foreign to me.
I probably told you this before but when I was little (and on into college really) my hair was so straight that I couldn't even get it to hold curl AT ALL.
Now the texture of my hair is different, whether from age or babies (you kids really kind of wreck EVERYTHING ;)) who knows.
But Greer had these ringlet curls when she was little and they were so tight that I would stick my finger right up inside them and they would wind right around me.
You have just the most adorable beginnings of curls--wispy little flyaways that aren't quite long enough yet to do much of anything except stand out from your head.
You've moved fully into 6-9 month clothing and are outpacing my supply of baby girl hand-me-downs because Greer was on the tiny end of things. Her 6-9 month stuff is mostly spring wear and it's definitely NOT spring around here yet.
It's really not that big of a problem though because unlike my other babies (all of them), I prefer to keep you in pajamas.
All. Day. Long.
The sign of a successful day for me is if you remain in your sleepwear from night until the following night because it means that I did not have to drag you out in the cold that day.
I'm not a fan of babies going out in pajamas (weird little thing of mine) so if we go public I dress you, but if not, in pjs you stay alllllll the live long day!
You're not even really going out for date night anymore which is actually very nice.
If you're with us, I'm either nursing through dinner or Daddy is holding you the whole time so one of us is really kind of more caught up in you than in the date itself.
You're bigger now and can go longer stretches between feeds (3-4 hours) so I'll feed you right before we walk out the door and we're good for the night.
If we're planning a big chunk of time out, we'll go shopping...go home to nurse...then back out for dinner.
And maybe that sounds like an inconvenience but if it keeps you snug at home and keeps us free for awhile, it's totally worth the extra effort to make it happen.
No teeth yet but a rising interest in food.
We'll bring you to the table this month and see what happens though you're pretty content with your new sippy cups (of water).
Once you start taking solid food, you will take less of my milk and that's better for you than anything I can whip into a puree so we're putting it off for as long as possible.
Regardless, I'm excited to make room for you at our family table.
Officially.
(Meaning, lap-free as right now you slap the food right off my fork or attempt to sog us both by swiping the drink from my mouth. Fiesty little lap diner!)
Love to you, my little lamb chop.
Mama
Monday, December 20, 2010
You--23 Weeks
Oh my goodness, has it been that long since I've written?
In fairness, you are beyond featured on our family blog so I HAVE been documenting things for you, just not always here.
And do I feel guilty about that?
YES.
Not that I want you to think that this is just another "thing" on my To-Do list because it isn't.
At the same time, I have a smidgeon of free time in a day right now (THE HOLIDAYS!) so I err on the side of efficiency and since with my photos I can blog all of you kids, I tend to do just that!
Even now, piles and I mean PILES of presents await my wrapping attention but I wanted to update this for you because you are changing by leaps and bounds and I simply can't keep up!
--We bought you a Bumpo which you loved for approximately a week and now you are a danger to yourself in the damn thing. The directions on the box stated, "SOME babies will try to escape it...."
I didn't know that was you.
I have been notified of my error in thinking.
--Gone is the bouncy seat, arrived is the Jumperoo! This has been our favorite baby accessory (we bought this with Greer) as you little ones just LOVE to jump in it and that tickles us all! It took you a day or so to figure out what you were supposed to do in it but you had LOTS of help as your brothers (Rhyse and Creux) were very eager to "show" you by like catapulting you across the room in it.
--You like those brothers, by the way. You like them all and you just ADORE your sister.
But I have to say, Luxie, that you really still only have eyes for me. I still must sneak around you from time to time as, if you're alerted to my presence in the room, you go from being fine to whining and begging me with your eyes (really, you do this. I swear it to be true.) to come and get you from whoever is holding you.
I've said it before and I'll say it again, no one has ever loved me quite like you do.
We're besties. (Me, you, & Greer!)
--You also know how to ask for food which cracks me up! You will cry and look DIRECTLY at my chest, then back up and me, then back to my chest. And when I start making motions to feed you (by unsnapping my bra and all the shifting and rearranging of clothing), you either get really excited (if you're not too hungry) or your whimpering turns to pleading (if you're starving).
--And some day you will totally hate that I write this but one of my very favorite nursing moments with you is when you're really ready to eat and at the same time very tired...because you're eyes will literally roll back in pleasure and it kills me in a funny way.
--No teeth yet but you're quite serious about chomping down on stuff.
--No crawling yet either but I'm making concentrated efforts to give you ample floor time these days. I'll whine all along about how you babies are into everything and yet at the same time, I'll encourage you to get up and go none-the-less.
That's my job.
A hug and then a teeny tiny push out of the nest.
--Speaking of the nest, you haven't left it. And I don't want you to. I really don't want you to.
This is the hardest separation for me as we've been together since literally back when you were made and it's not easy for me to let you go. The nights are special times for us. And you're at peace in this nest. I hate to make you go.
--But you must! (Here's where I steel myself!) If you don't go, you will fall. I did this with Creux, have I told you that? I waited and waited and I KNEW BETTER but I waited too long. I caught him a few times, hearing him wake and gurgle on the monitor and I'd race upstairs to grab him before he could roll, roll, roll off the bed.
But one day, I didn't catch him.
I heard him fall, how could I not?
And when I reached him, sprinting up the stairs, my heart pounding so fast I thought it would explode, he was very hurt.
He'd smacked a board on the way down, the board that holds together the frame of the bed, and he'd smacked it face-first.
I think it knocked the wind out of him.
So when I reached him, he was gasping for air and I freaked out.
I was so ashamed that day, I could barely even look at him.
I called your dad and sat on the porch, waiting for him to arrive so that he could check Creux out--he's better in those situations than I am.
And while he took my baby boy inside, I sat on the front porch step alone, head bent to my knees, rocking back and forth, waiting for him to come and tell me that everything was fine (and it was) so that I could breathe again.
That was, and remains to be, my very worst parenting decision.
EVER.
And so, dear Luxe, I will not put my needs above yours and though we'll both dislike it very much in the beginning, we'll get you all squared away in your own fab nest very soon. You aren't moving so much that you're an immediate risk but time is a'tickin' and I don't typically make the same mistake twice :)
--It's almost Christmas time! Oh, you have so many wonderful things to explore! Santa said you were VERY good this year and so, SHE shopped accordingly.
--You and I stood in front of our tree last night and your sheer wonder and awe at the sight that it was brought me to tears. You looked up and down, eyes so bright and wide, and reached out to touch things. I stood very close so you could feel the prickly needles and could shake the tree a bit to make it jingle.
Your amazement is just the most precious thing.
--No food for you yet though you are showing a bit of an interest. You want what we have, period. And you often sit at the table with us, in my lap or Daddy's, so it must just seem like the thing to do: put things in your mouth! I picked out a chair for you that snaps to the table but haven't ordered it yet. I'm excited to have you join us for meals! (Though not for awhile yet--am hoping we can just nurse through this winter and then start on solids when spring arrives and with it, a bounty of fresh fruits and veggies. We don't do the jar stuff at all--haven't since Greer.)
--You're also starting to recognize your family as seperate from other baby lovers and will cry if placed too quickly in unfamiliar arms. This is (completely selfishly!) one of my favorite baby things as well--just to see that you little ones are so wonderfully attached to your family members. It's cute. Plus then I can tease my friends and say, "I belong and yoooou don't, nah- nah, nah-nah, nah, nah!"
Look, I never said maturity was my strong point ;)
--Sometimes when you cry, you try to fight it and your lower lip bends down and you take big inhales of air and I JUST DIE because you're so stinkin' CUTE! I hate when you cry but sometimes I love it.
Just sometimes though and NOT when you're good and pissed about something.
Like getting your nose wiped which is, for whatever reason, UNACCEPTABLE in your book.
Hell hath no fury like Luxe getting her nose wiped.
SHEESH!
--I think my hair is finally done falling out. Thank the Lord because it's been MONTHS? Can that be right? I'll have to go back and see but it's been a long time. And, I wouldn't necessarily say I'm a particularly vain person but at the same time, you don't go messing with my hair. It's, like, my HAIR. And I love it. Minus freaking bald spots which is what I was thinking I was going to have and that is NOT a fair post-partum experience! On top of everything else, I could at least still have good hair.
Or not.
Whichever.
UGH.
--Because I am completely stubborn, I have refused to buy almost any clothes since you were born. I have had to get a few things here and there but I could probably count them on one hand. I just don't want to waste money on things that I have no intention wearing a few months from now. So it's really quite SUCKED to get dressed for much of anything because I (apparently) seem to wear like children's sizes or something in my pre-you days because I pull stuff out, look at it and gasp, "WHO wears this size? It's like for a 12-year-old!" I do that because I'm totally annoyed that I can't fit into it yet.
BUT.
I have ONE PAIR of black pants that I wear for dress-up occasions in the winter time (and I have ONE PAIR because I don't like to dress up in the winter time) and I tried them on around Thanksgiving it was a big, fat, NOPE.
I tried them again for a recent Christmas party and...they worked, they worked!
I'm not saying they were terribly comfortable but they were ON.
I high-fived myself for 15 minutes over that one because I didn't have to suddenly own TWO pairs of dressy black pants.
YIPPEE!!
--Which brings me to a sliver of advice for you. Because now that I know your gender, I can talk to you specifically as my daughter and I'd like to say this much: when you have children, Luxie, be kind to yourself.
Don't be impatient and don't beat your body down just so you lose your baby weight faster and DEFINITELY do not go by anyone's timeline but your own. Your body will do as it will do but you must remember that something horrifically enormous has happened to it and it takes time to recover. You will probably feel okay with this right in the beginning, as you're holding a newborn, but as time moves on, you might feel less okay with how fast you are returning to "you."
With the boys, I was completely back to "me" within just a few months.
Greer took a bit longer and Creux even longer than THAT. (10 months maybe?)
Anyway, the point is that I just want to tell you that it IS hard to recover from a pregnancy but that it's important to appreciate the body you have and what it can do.
It will not always been easy.
But no matter what I may perceive as my own body flaws, I will tell you this: I love my body.
It has done everything I could possibly have wanted it to do, it's been very, very good to me.
After all, it gave me YOU.
Love you darling girl,
Mama
In fairness, you are beyond featured on our family blog so I HAVE been documenting things for you, just not always here.
And do I feel guilty about that?
YES.
Not that I want you to think that this is just another "thing" on my To-Do list because it isn't.
At the same time, I have a smidgeon of free time in a day right now (THE HOLIDAYS!) so I err on the side of efficiency and since with my photos I can blog all of you kids, I tend to do just that!
Even now, piles and I mean PILES of presents await my wrapping attention but I wanted to update this for you because you are changing by leaps and bounds and I simply can't keep up!
--We bought you a Bumpo which you loved for approximately a week and now you are a danger to yourself in the damn thing. The directions on the box stated, "SOME babies will try to escape it...."
I didn't know that was you.
I have been notified of my error in thinking.
--Gone is the bouncy seat, arrived is the Jumperoo! This has been our favorite baby accessory (we bought this with Greer) as you little ones just LOVE to jump in it and that tickles us all! It took you a day or so to figure out what you were supposed to do in it but you had LOTS of help as your brothers (Rhyse and Creux) were very eager to "show" you by like catapulting you across the room in it.
--You like those brothers, by the way. You like them all and you just ADORE your sister.
But I have to say, Luxie, that you really still only have eyes for me. I still must sneak around you from time to time as, if you're alerted to my presence in the room, you go from being fine to whining and begging me with your eyes (really, you do this. I swear it to be true.) to come and get you from whoever is holding you.
I've said it before and I'll say it again, no one has ever loved me quite like you do.
We're besties. (Me, you, & Greer!)
--You also know how to ask for food which cracks me up! You will cry and look DIRECTLY at my chest, then back up and me, then back to my chest. And when I start making motions to feed you (by unsnapping my bra and all the shifting and rearranging of clothing), you either get really excited (if you're not too hungry) or your whimpering turns to pleading (if you're starving).
--And some day you will totally hate that I write this but one of my very favorite nursing moments with you is when you're really ready to eat and at the same time very tired...because you're eyes will literally roll back in pleasure and it kills me in a funny way.
--No teeth yet but you're quite serious about chomping down on stuff.
--No crawling yet either but I'm making concentrated efforts to give you ample floor time these days. I'll whine all along about how you babies are into everything and yet at the same time, I'll encourage you to get up and go none-the-less.
That's my job.
A hug and then a teeny tiny push out of the nest.
--Speaking of the nest, you haven't left it. And I don't want you to. I really don't want you to.
This is the hardest separation for me as we've been together since literally back when you were made and it's not easy for me to let you go. The nights are special times for us. And you're at peace in this nest. I hate to make you go.
--But you must! (Here's where I steel myself!) If you don't go, you will fall. I did this with Creux, have I told you that? I waited and waited and I KNEW BETTER but I waited too long. I caught him a few times, hearing him wake and gurgle on the monitor and I'd race upstairs to grab him before he could roll, roll, roll off the bed.
But one day, I didn't catch him.
I heard him fall, how could I not?
And when I reached him, sprinting up the stairs, my heart pounding so fast I thought it would explode, he was very hurt.
He'd smacked a board on the way down, the board that holds together the frame of the bed, and he'd smacked it face-first.
I think it knocked the wind out of him.
So when I reached him, he was gasping for air and I freaked out.
I was so ashamed that day, I could barely even look at him.
I called your dad and sat on the porch, waiting for him to arrive so that he could check Creux out--he's better in those situations than I am.
And while he took my baby boy inside, I sat on the front porch step alone, head bent to my knees, rocking back and forth, waiting for him to come and tell me that everything was fine (and it was) so that I could breathe again.
That was, and remains to be, my very worst parenting decision.
EVER.
And so, dear Luxe, I will not put my needs above yours and though we'll both dislike it very much in the beginning, we'll get you all squared away in your own fab nest very soon. You aren't moving so much that you're an immediate risk but time is a'tickin' and I don't typically make the same mistake twice :)
--It's almost Christmas time! Oh, you have so many wonderful things to explore! Santa said you were VERY good this year and so, SHE shopped accordingly.
--You and I stood in front of our tree last night and your sheer wonder and awe at the sight that it was brought me to tears. You looked up and down, eyes so bright and wide, and reached out to touch things. I stood very close so you could feel the prickly needles and could shake the tree a bit to make it jingle.
Your amazement is just the most precious thing.
--No food for you yet though you are showing a bit of an interest. You want what we have, period. And you often sit at the table with us, in my lap or Daddy's, so it must just seem like the thing to do: put things in your mouth! I picked out a chair for you that snaps to the table but haven't ordered it yet. I'm excited to have you join us for meals! (Though not for awhile yet--am hoping we can just nurse through this winter and then start on solids when spring arrives and with it, a bounty of fresh fruits and veggies. We don't do the jar stuff at all--haven't since Greer.)
--You're also starting to recognize your family as seperate from other baby lovers and will cry if placed too quickly in unfamiliar arms. This is (completely selfishly!) one of my favorite baby things as well--just to see that you little ones are so wonderfully attached to your family members. It's cute. Plus then I can tease my friends and say, "I belong and yoooou don't, nah- nah, nah-nah, nah, nah!"
Look, I never said maturity was my strong point ;)
--Sometimes when you cry, you try to fight it and your lower lip bends down and you take big inhales of air and I JUST DIE because you're so stinkin' CUTE! I hate when you cry but sometimes I love it.
Just sometimes though and NOT when you're good and pissed about something.
Like getting your nose wiped which is, for whatever reason, UNACCEPTABLE in your book.
Hell hath no fury like Luxe getting her nose wiped.
SHEESH!
--I think my hair is finally done falling out. Thank the Lord because it's been MONTHS? Can that be right? I'll have to go back and see but it's been a long time. And, I wouldn't necessarily say I'm a particularly vain person but at the same time, you don't go messing with my hair. It's, like, my HAIR. And I love it. Minus freaking bald spots which is what I was thinking I was going to have and that is NOT a fair post-partum experience! On top of everything else, I could at least still have good hair.
Or not.
Whichever.
UGH.
--Because I am completely stubborn, I have refused to buy almost any clothes since you were born. I have had to get a few things here and there but I could probably count them on one hand. I just don't want to waste money on things that I have no intention wearing a few months from now. So it's really quite SUCKED to get dressed for much of anything because I (apparently) seem to wear like children's sizes or something in my pre-you days because I pull stuff out, look at it and gasp, "WHO wears this size? It's like for a 12-year-old!" I do that because I'm totally annoyed that I can't fit into it yet.
BUT.
I have ONE PAIR of black pants that I wear for dress-up occasions in the winter time (and I have ONE PAIR because I don't like to dress up in the winter time) and I tried them on around Thanksgiving it was a big, fat, NOPE.
I tried them again for a recent Christmas party and...they worked, they worked!
I'm not saying they were terribly comfortable but they were ON.
I high-fived myself for 15 minutes over that one because I didn't have to suddenly own TWO pairs of dressy black pants.
YIPPEE!!
--Which brings me to a sliver of advice for you. Because now that I know your gender, I can talk to you specifically as my daughter and I'd like to say this much: when you have children, Luxie, be kind to yourself.
Don't be impatient and don't beat your body down just so you lose your baby weight faster and DEFINITELY do not go by anyone's timeline but your own. Your body will do as it will do but you must remember that something horrifically enormous has happened to it and it takes time to recover. You will probably feel okay with this right in the beginning, as you're holding a newborn, but as time moves on, you might feel less okay with how fast you are returning to "you."
With the boys, I was completely back to "me" within just a few months.
Greer took a bit longer and Creux even longer than THAT. (10 months maybe?)
Anyway, the point is that I just want to tell you that it IS hard to recover from a pregnancy but that it's important to appreciate the body you have and what it can do.
It will not always been easy.
But no matter what I may perceive as my own body flaws, I will tell you this: I love my body.
It has done everything I could possibly have wanted it to do, it's been very, very good to me.
After all, it gave me YOU.
Love you darling girl,
Mama
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
You--21 Weeks, 1 Day
Oh, Luxie.
We have chunk roll issues. I've had to put the whole family on notice that when you receive a diaper change, the FOLDS OF YOUR THIGHS need a swipe too.
Because they're turning red and sore due to trappage of scuzzage.
NOT very lady-like, my dear.
(Kinda gross but still cute because I love a good thigh roll. I can't help it. I also squeeze your little bum cheeks to accentuate your ripples of deliciousness. Yes, I know this is weird. I do not care.)
You slept eight hours last night and I slept six.
I feel vindicated today.
Like I won something.
Which I did: sleep.
You slept so long because you were up really late.
You normally go down (in your swing which needs to S-T-O-P) around 8:00-8:30.
But last night, it was 10:30 before you gave in and that was only because I broke down and nursed you again.
You need to start sleeping upstairs (um, the way I originally wanted you to) but I'm hesitant to move you because of your lack of room space.
I don't want to move you to my bed for naps alone because I will only have to transition you in a month or so out of the bed and into a crib because you'll be rolling on your own.
Two transitions are way worse than one cuz I know you ain't gonna like the one as it is.
But it must be done.
Soon.
You're settling into the 2.5 naps a day thing, pretty regularly, so...we need to get crackin' on a space for you.
Since you are sleeping through the night, (or are able to when feeling good), there's no reason to keep you in bed with me at this point.
But I want to.
We'll probably keep the night time co-sleeps for a time longer--I hate when that goes.
And at the same time, I remember when Creux left....it was hard for a few days and then I was like, "WOW, I like not tip-toeing around!"
So I know there's an upshot to taking my space back but still.
I love me my snugglers.
Interestingly, probably because you're such a good sleeper and aren't eating around the clock, I think you're lifting the ban on the suppression of my fertility.
I normally don't get my periods back until about a year later--so this is REALLY early for me.
Creux didn't sleep how you're sleeping until he was 16 months old and by then, he was taking in solid food and cutting back on breastmilk.
I'm not going to wake you up at night to feed you just to stall the return of my monthlies but DARN...I was hoping for more time, I guess because it's quite nice without it!
And look, while I would absolutely welcome another little sweet one at some point, I'd like to not be starting another installment of "Expectant" just yet, if you know what I mean.
Plus, your dad would have heart failure so....you know.
We're heading out on date night--with you starring as chaperone!
Chaperoness :)
Uh oh, I hear you.
Through the vents.
"Waaaaah!"
And I don't even have my makeup done!
Must run!
See you in a moment when Emily comes in search of a feed source!
XO,
Mama
We have chunk roll issues. I've had to put the whole family on notice that when you receive a diaper change, the FOLDS OF YOUR THIGHS need a swipe too.
Because they're turning red and sore due to trappage of scuzzage.
NOT very lady-like, my dear.
(Kinda gross but still cute because I love a good thigh roll. I can't help it. I also squeeze your little bum cheeks to accentuate your ripples of deliciousness. Yes, I know this is weird. I do not care.)
You slept eight hours last night and I slept six.
I feel vindicated today.
Like I won something.
Which I did: sleep.
You slept so long because you were up really late.
You normally go down (in your swing which needs to S-T-O-P) around 8:00-8:30.
But last night, it was 10:30 before you gave in and that was only because I broke down and nursed you again.
You need to start sleeping upstairs (um, the way I originally wanted you to) but I'm hesitant to move you because of your lack of room space.
I don't want to move you to my bed for naps alone because I will only have to transition you in a month or so out of the bed and into a crib because you'll be rolling on your own.
Two transitions are way worse than one cuz I know you ain't gonna like the one as it is.
But it must be done.
Soon.
You're settling into the 2.5 naps a day thing, pretty regularly, so...we need to get crackin' on a space for you.
Since you are sleeping through the night, (or are able to when feeling good), there's no reason to keep you in bed with me at this point.
But I want to.
We'll probably keep the night time co-sleeps for a time longer--I hate when that goes.
And at the same time, I remember when Creux left....it was hard for a few days and then I was like, "WOW, I like not tip-toeing around!"
So I know there's an upshot to taking my space back but still.
I love me my snugglers.
Interestingly, probably because you're such a good sleeper and aren't eating around the clock, I think you're lifting the ban on the suppression of my fertility.
I normally don't get my periods back until about a year later--so this is REALLY early for me.
Creux didn't sleep how you're sleeping until he was 16 months old and by then, he was taking in solid food and cutting back on breastmilk.
I'm not going to wake you up at night to feed you just to stall the return of my monthlies but DARN...I was hoping for more time, I guess because it's quite nice without it!
And look, while I would absolutely welcome another little sweet one at some point, I'd like to not be starting another installment of "Expectant" just yet, if you know what I mean.
Plus, your dad would have heart failure so....you know.
We're heading out on date night--with you starring as chaperone!
Chaperoness :)
Uh oh, I hear you.
Through the vents.
"Waaaaah!"
And I don't even have my makeup done!
Must run!
See you in a moment when Emily comes in search of a feed source!
XO,
Mama
Sunday, November 28, 2010
You--20 Weeks, 6 Days
This time of year has been interesting for me as I'm constantly remembering where I was with you last November.
I was S.I.C.K.
In spite of that, Thanksgiving was very special as, a few nights before the actual big day of feasting, we told the kids that you were coming.
My idea had been to pass out a piece of paper and have each of your siblings write what they were most thankful for that year.
On my slip of paper I had writtnen, "I am thankful for Chas, Rhyse, Greer, Creux...and the baby in my tummy."
Don't take this the wrong way but it was not as momentous of an occasion as I had imagined it to be.
The phone rang right in the middle of my announcement and I ended up having to yell over the ring, "DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID???" because they were all staring at me blankly.
On top of that, Rhyse turned to me and, instead of saying acknowledging my news, he said, "What about Dad?" because I stupidly didn't name him in my thankful list.
SO, it wasn't quite the "WOW!" reaction I thought I'd get and watching it back on the Flip (we video'ed the moment for you--you will be annoyingly disappointed, I fear) I had to laugh because....that's just life around here right now.
Ringing phones and blank stares make up a good portion of my days :)
That's just about the only good memory I have of this month though.
I remember dragging myself up to bed for a nap last year while Daddy slaved away in the kitchen preparing the Thanksgiving meal and all I wanted was for the day to just pass as quickly as possible.
I don't remember actually throwing up that meal but I'm sure I did.
The sickness aside, that was just a hard time for me in general, though I still can't understand why.
I don't remember being so low before with any of your siblings but I cried buckets through the beginning of your pregnancy.
I love being pregnant, LOVE being pregnant, so it stunk that I was not loving it so much that time around with you.
I did absolutely grow to LOVE being pregnant with you as soon as the fog of that early bit lifted (my favorite period was this past May on vacation--my bump was in full effect and I felt fabulous. Beautiful, sexy, very...feminine. And so excited to meet you.)
I'll tell you this though: that period was so hard on me, it definitely gives me pause when I think about the possibility of another.
The end, that whole birth fiasco, was nothing compared to my first trimester.
I don't like feeling that out of control emotionally.
The sickness is one thing but the depression (?) was another.
I suppose it's probably very similar to the baby blues that many suffer from when hormones are crashing after birthing a baby.
And I probably get a touch of that but nothing like what happened at the start.
The difference, I will say, is that during the after-birth lows, I remember noticing it.
Like, in the midst of a rant, I would think: You are not even making sense anymore, crazy woman. You're super pissed and your mouth is running but you're not making any freaking sense.
Whereas in the beginning, I completely lacked that insight.
(I remember even saying to Daddy once, in the middle of a stupid argument...."You're just lucky that I don't suffer from post-partum depression because THEN you'd have to be home!" He was working tons, TONS, right after you were born and I was feeling lonely and hormonal so I was upset-- it's a hard time to be alone. And then, right after I said that, I slapped my hand over my mouth and said, "Wait. Oh my God, wait. (Gasp!) Am I post-partumly depressed? AM I? We're (the recently post-parumed) always the last to know, aren't we? WAAAAAH...")
I'm telling you this because I'd like to apologize in advance for probably passing on the Crazy Woman gene.
But that was then and this is now and I/we all survived that and now we are just...blissfully in love!
Me and you.
Actually you and everyone.
You've wrapped the whole darn house right around your chubby little finger, you have!
My favorite time of the day with you is in the morning because you're so happy to be awake and everyone else is so happy FOR you to be awake.
I'll bring you down and you'll get kisses from Daddy for a bit, then Chas will whisk you off, then Rhyse will complain that he hasn't had a turn, then Greer will want to lay with you and watch iCarly on the couch or a Giada in my bed.
Creux just dances around you, popping in and out of your view, petting your head and (cringe) wiping boogers on you.
I've told him it's disgusting but he doesn't care.
He just giggles and runs away.
He calls you 'Wuuuuxie." Have I mentioned that before?
And Greer just said something totally hilarious the other day.
She said, "What's Luxe's middle name? I don't know Luxe's middle name!"
And I said, "It's Yeardley. Luxe Yeardley."
And she looked at me for a second and then she said, "WHY?"
I totally cracked up.
The truth is that I don't know why!
I just heard it somewhere and liked it.
Names like that stick with me when I hear them because I know they're good potential middle names.
And I know it's an unlikely choice for others.
Speaking of that, the word "luxe" is being tossed around all over place right now in ads and magazines.
I heard too that Luxe is the name of a character on a show popular with teens so I freaked right out about that. The last thing I want is for your name to be trendy. THE HORROR that would be for me.
I think I've said before (I can never remember what I write here and what I don't) that the liking of your name seems to be generational.
People my age and younger mostly like it; people older than me often say, "Well. That's...interesting.
Or, "Oh! (silence) (baffled nod) Huh!"
We were out to dinner the other night and some woman asked your name. When Daddy told her, she lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Ooooo, my daughter is pregnant and I just HAVE to tell her that one! Let me see if I can find a pen and paper..."
I glared at your father.
"The next time someone asks that so eagerly, you say 'Mary!'"
The most annoying thing I've encountered with your name are the yahooligans who think they're SO clever by asking,"Is that like deeeeeluxe? Hahahaaha!"
This is no longer met with a polite chuckle from me.
I'm bored with it and frankly, they always get such a kick out of themselves that the mean girl deep inside me thrashes wildly to be let out for just one, eensy, weensy mean girl response.
Luckily I have held her at bay but my own sarcastic wit is starting to ooze out around my bitten tongue.
I've probably got the patience for about two more of those deeeeeluxe, hahahaha! comments and then, I will unbite my tongue and then no one will ask me that dumb question EVER again.
Well, it seems as though I had a LOT to catch up on here as I've babbled the night away.
But it'd been long since I'd posted so I guess that makes the random tangenty babble okay, right?
At just about five months YOU:
--are kind of cranky, my love! I think you're teeth are coming in. You're like a ravenous animal with your teethers and your sleep is broken. Poor baby.
--love your Bumpo seat but are trying, with some success, to escape it. Can't you just relax and be a baby for awhile?
--are adorably pudgy, earning the "Chunk in the Trunk" title from daddy.
And sweetie, you DO have chunk in your trunk. I love it! Rippley bum celluite makes me swoooooon!
--suck to sleep with, you pushy little broad. I'm getting real tired of hugging the edge of my bed. Either share or you're O-U-T!
(I'm kidding. I couldn't just put you out. I would miss your little feet in my back way too much.)
--you laugh and laugh and laugh. Deep belly chuckles. SWOONING!
--you are fascinated by your tongue right now and you stick it out constantly. So we all stick ours out at you too.
--you're starting to try to sit up on your own but you topple quickly.
--we're packing away your 3-6m clothes, your baby bathtub, and your bouncy seat.
--we're bringing out the Jumperoo. Your life is about to change forever. (BOING!)
--I mentioned stuffing a sippy cup in your stocking and it made me sad.
--you seem to be growing interested in our food. curious. and you're reaching for every damn thing--if you catch it, you stuff it fast into your mouth.
--I love you more every single day.
Always,
Mama
I was S.I.C.K.
In spite of that, Thanksgiving was very special as, a few nights before the actual big day of feasting, we told the kids that you were coming.
My idea had been to pass out a piece of paper and have each of your siblings write what they were most thankful for that year.
On my slip of paper I had writtnen, "I am thankful for Chas, Rhyse, Greer, Creux...and the baby in my tummy."
Don't take this the wrong way but it was not as momentous of an occasion as I had imagined it to be.
The phone rang right in the middle of my announcement and I ended up having to yell over the ring, "DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID???" because they were all staring at me blankly.
On top of that, Rhyse turned to me and, instead of saying acknowledging my news, he said, "What about Dad?" because I stupidly didn't name him in my thankful list.
SO, it wasn't quite the "WOW!" reaction I thought I'd get and watching it back on the Flip (we video'ed the moment for you--you will be annoyingly disappointed, I fear) I had to laugh because....that's just life around here right now.
Ringing phones and blank stares make up a good portion of my days :)
That's just about the only good memory I have of this month though.
I remember dragging myself up to bed for a nap last year while Daddy slaved away in the kitchen preparing the Thanksgiving meal and all I wanted was for the day to just pass as quickly as possible.
I don't remember actually throwing up that meal but I'm sure I did.
The sickness aside, that was just a hard time for me in general, though I still can't understand why.
I don't remember being so low before with any of your siblings but I cried buckets through the beginning of your pregnancy.
I love being pregnant, LOVE being pregnant, so it stunk that I was not loving it so much that time around with you.
I did absolutely grow to LOVE being pregnant with you as soon as the fog of that early bit lifted (my favorite period was this past May on vacation--my bump was in full effect and I felt fabulous. Beautiful, sexy, very...feminine. And so excited to meet you.)
I'll tell you this though: that period was so hard on me, it definitely gives me pause when I think about the possibility of another.
The end, that whole birth fiasco, was nothing compared to my first trimester.
I don't like feeling that out of control emotionally.
The sickness is one thing but the depression (?) was another.
I suppose it's probably very similar to the baby blues that many suffer from when hormones are crashing after birthing a baby.
And I probably get a touch of that but nothing like what happened at the start.
The difference, I will say, is that during the after-birth lows, I remember noticing it.
Like, in the midst of a rant, I would think: You are not even making sense anymore, crazy woman. You're super pissed and your mouth is running but you're not making any freaking sense.
Whereas in the beginning, I completely lacked that insight.
(I remember even saying to Daddy once, in the middle of a stupid argument...."You're just lucky that I don't suffer from post-partum depression because THEN you'd have to be home!" He was working tons, TONS, right after you were born and I was feeling lonely and hormonal so I was upset-- it's a hard time to be alone. And then, right after I said that, I slapped my hand over my mouth and said, "Wait. Oh my God, wait. (Gasp!) Am I post-partumly depressed? AM I? We're (the recently post-parumed) always the last to know, aren't we? WAAAAAH...")
I'm telling you this because I'd like to apologize in advance for probably passing on the Crazy Woman gene.
But that was then and this is now and I/we all survived that and now we are just...blissfully in love!
Me and you.
Actually you and everyone.
You've wrapped the whole darn house right around your chubby little finger, you have!
My favorite time of the day with you is in the morning because you're so happy to be awake and everyone else is so happy FOR you to be awake.
I'll bring you down and you'll get kisses from Daddy for a bit, then Chas will whisk you off, then Rhyse will complain that he hasn't had a turn, then Greer will want to lay with you and watch iCarly on the couch or a Giada in my bed.
Creux just dances around you, popping in and out of your view, petting your head and (cringe) wiping boogers on you.
I've told him it's disgusting but he doesn't care.
He just giggles and runs away.
He calls you 'Wuuuuxie." Have I mentioned that before?
And Greer just said something totally hilarious the other day.
She said, "What's Luxe's middle name? I don't know Luxe's middle name!"
And I said, "It's Yeardley. Luxe Yeardley."
And she looked at me for a second and then she said, "WHY?"
I totally cracked up.
The truth is that I don't know why!
I just heard it somewhere and liked it.
Names like that stick with me when I hear them because I know they're good potential middle names.
And I know it's an unlikely choice for others.
Speaking of that, the word "luxe" is being tossed around all over place right now in ads and magazines.
I heard too that Luxe is the name of a character on a show popular with teens so I freaked right out about that. The last thing I want is for your name to be trendy. THE HORROR that would be for me.
I think I've said before (I can never remember what I write here and what I don't) that the liking of your name seems to be generational.
People my age and younger mostly like it; people older than me often say, "Well. That's...interesting.
Or, "Oh! (silence) (baffled nod) Huh!"
We were out to dinner the other night and some woman asked your name. When Daddy told her, she lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Ooooo, my daughter is pregnant and I just HAVE to tell her that one! Let me see if I can find a pen and paper..."
I glared at your father.
"The next time someone asks that so eagerly, you say 'Mary!'"
The most annoying thing I've encountered with your name are the yahooligans who think they're SO clever by asking,"Is that like deeeeeluxe? Hahahaaha!"
This is no longer met with a polite chuckle from me.
I'm bored with it and frankly, they always get such a kick out of themselves that the mean girl deep inside me thrashes wildly to be let out for just one, eensy, weensy mean girl response.
Luckily I have held her at bay but my own sarcastic wit is starting to ooze out around my bitten tongue.
I've probably got the patience for about two more of those deeeeeluxe, hahahaha! comments and then, I will unbite my tongue and then no one will ask me that dumb question EVER again.
Well, it seems as though I had a LOT to catch up on here as I've babbled the night away.
But it'd been long since I'd posted so I guess that makes the random tangenty babble okay, right?
At just about five months YOU:
--are kind of cranky, my love! I think you're teeth are coming in. You're like a ravenous animal with your teethers and your sleep is broken. Poor baby.
--love your Bumpo seat but are trying, with some success, to escape it. Can't you just relax and be a baby for awhile?
--are adorably pudgy, earning the "Chunk in the Trunk" title from daddy.
And sweetie, you DO have chunk in your trunk. I love it! Rippley bum celluite makes me swoooooon!
--suck to sleep with, you pushy little broad. I'm getting real tired of hugging the edge of my bed. Either share or you're O-U-T!
(I'm kidding. I couldn't just put you out. I would miss your little feet in my back way too much.)
--you laugh and laugh and laugh. Deep belly chuckles. SWOONING!
--you are fascinated by your tongue right now and you stick it out constantly. So we all stick ours out at you too.
--you're starting to try to sit up on your own but you topple quickly.
--we're packing away your 3-6m clothes, your baby bathtub, and your bouncy seat.
--we're bringing out the Jumperoo. Your life is about to change forever. (BOING!)
--I mentioned stuffing a sippy cup in your stocking and it made me sad.
--you seem to be growing interested in our food. curious. and you're reaching for every damn thing--if you catch it, you stuff it fast into your mouth.
--I love you more every single day.
Always,
Mama
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
You--18 Weeks, 2 Days
My hair is falling out in handfuls.
It's a normal post-partum thing but still.
I don't like it.
In the shower when I wash, afterwards when I comb...it's all over the place.
I find it in my bed, and sometimes just when I run my fingers through my hair.
It's the remainder of our pregnancy together, leaving.
The line that arrived on my belly in what was most likely month six is a mere memory at this point.
But if I really look, I can still see it.
The shower always reminds me of you--of being pregnant with you.
It was my only quiet place, the only spot I really had to reflect and think in complete silence.
I worried over a miscarriage in there.
I cried hormonally charged tears.
I washed away morning sickness.
I rubbed my swollen belly.
I plotted and planned our homebirthing experience in there.
I drew your name on the shower door in the steam from my water.
It's where I sat alone when you wouldn't come and it's also where you decided to do just that.
My body is changing too--less "I JUST had a baby" and more, "I had a baby."
I can see the outline of my former self.
I can feel my waist returning.
It feels good.
I have not dropped all of my baby weight yet but have shed quite a bit of it.
I think my total gain was somewhere around 40 pounds this time (I'm normally at 36, regardless of eating ice cream daily or carrot sticks) and I've lost over half of that so far.
Another ten pounds or so and I will be....me.
I feel great.
Your infancy has not taken near the toll that I was anticipating.
I can honestly say that I was really dreading two things: the return of nursing full-time and being up three to four times a night with a newborn--that hellish sleep deprivation.
And it just so happened that neither of those things were to be issues.
Before you even arrived, I'd stopped dreading nursing and began to really look forward to it.
What I was dreading mostly was just how painful the first few weeks typically are but you weren't assaulting me like both Rhyse and Creux did.
With Creux, I was bloody and bruised and would have to mentally find my own happy place just to survive the first three minutes of his nursing session.
He came out starving, I guess.
But you...it was a piece of cake and I had little discomfort.
Sleeping has been much the same.
You've been giving me at least a five hour chunk since the very beginning.
I thought it would wear off after the first week or so but it never has.
You snuggle right up next to me and many times, I wake to see that dawn has arrived.
I can't remember the last time I saw 4am.
(Except tonight, now that I've just jinxed myself.)
I wanted a Chill Baby more than anything; more than a boy, more than a girl.
And thank you for fulfilling that request.
I don't know how I'd get through these crazy busy days if you were brutalizing me.
At four months you:
--are a pro at flipping from back to front.
--almost fell off the couch practicing your skills
--constantly are sucking your thumb (still sideways) and/or fingers
--are slimy. All the time.
--are smiley. All the time.
--have really begun to giggle spontaneously. You laugh the most for Greer but she puts the most effort in.
--have incredible balance--Daddy holds you up in the air by ONE HAND which I HATE but you balance yourself just fine.
--this is also why you'll be walking in like a month
--you bat your eyes. I swear it to be true.
--you get very excited when I come into the room. It's fantastic. Your face lights up, you flash a huge grin, and your arms and legs go wild. Your eyes don't leave me, they follow me all around the room.
You're the best stalker in the whole wide world.
--you're talking a lot. Tonight you talked for ten minutes straight, completing interrupting a conversation that Emily and I were having. You just butted your way right in, "a-gaaaaa"ing away.
Made me realize that between me, you, and Greer, the males in this family will be doing a LOT of listening.
--I just brought out teether toys for you
--I've also begun ordering your Christmas gifts. A clip-on high chair is on your list....hard to believe that very, very soon, you will join us at the dinner table.
--though you are four months and though you will soon be sitting at the table, you will not be enjoying solid food for many months yet. No processed cereals for you--it's mama's milk until you can gum some soft fruits and veggies on your own.
--you're getting bored easily. You're less happy to lay on the floor and play, partly because you always flip over but also partly because you now realize how much you like to be held and played with. And you can see very well that there are five people in the room at any given time who COULD be available to you if you beckon them desperately enough.
--6-12 month clothing for you already! Which means that everything I bought you for Christmas (months ago) is not going to fit. I didn't think you'd, uhhh, round out so well so fast!
You have stolen my heart, wee girl.
I simply can't imagine there being a sweeter baby alive.
I would contest it openly and would bet my life that it's just not possible.
Thank you for being so happy.
It makes me feel like even though this place is just a hotbed of crazy, it's a wonderful kind of crazy.
And thank you for being mine, all mine.
I don't know how I got so unbelievably lucky.
Love you, Luxie Lu.
Mama
It's a normal post-partum thing but still.
I don't like it.
In the shower when I wash, afterwards when I comb...it's all over the place.
I find it in my bed, and sometimes just when I run my fingers through my hair.
It's the remainder of our pregnancy together, leaving.
The line that arrived on my belly in what was most likely month six is a mere memory at this point.
But if I really look, I can still see it.
The shower always reminds me of you--of being pregnant with you.
It was my only quiet place, the only spot I really had to reflect and think in complete silence.
I worried over a miscarriage in there.
I cried hormonally charged tears.
I washed away morning sickness.
I rubbed my swollen belly.
I plotted and planned our homebirthing experience in there.
I drew your name on the shower door in the steam from my water.
It's where I sat alone when you wouldn't come and it's also where you decided to do just that.
My body is changing too--less "I JUST had a baby" and more, "I had a baby."
I can see the outline of my former self.
I can feel my waist returning.
It feels good.
I have not dropped all of my baby weight yet but have shed quite a bit of it.
I think my total gain was somewhere around 40 pounds this time (I'm normally at 36, regardless of eating ice cream daily or carrot sticks) and I've lost over half of that so far.
Another ten pounds or so and I will be....me.
I feel great.
Your infancy has not taken near the toll that I was anticipating.
I can honestly say that I was really dreading two things: the return of nursing full-time and being up three to four times a night with a newborn--that hellish sleep deprivation.
And it just so happened that neither of those things were to be issues.
Before you even arrived, I'd stopped dreading nursing and began to really look forward to it.
What I was dreading mostly was just how painful the first few weeks typically are but you weren't assaulting me like both Rhyse and Creux did.
With Creux, I was bloody and bruised and would have to mentally find my own happy place just to survive the first three minutes of his nursing session.
He came out starving, I guess.
But you...it was a piece of cake and I had little discomfort.
Sleeping has been much the same.
You've been giving me at least a five hour chunk since the very beginning.
I thought it would wear off after the first week or so but it never has.
You snuggle right up next to me and many times, I wake to see that dawn has arrived.
I can't remember the last time I saw 4am.
(Except tonight, now that I've just jinxed myself.)
I wanted a Chill Baby more than anything; more than a boy, more than a girl.
And thank you for fulfilling that request.
I don't know how I'd get through these crazy busy days if you were brutalizing me.
At four months you:
--are a pro at flipping from back to front.
--almost fell off the couch practicing your skills
--constantly are sucking your thumb (still sideways) and/or fingers
--are slimy. All the time.
--are smiley. All the time.
--have really begun to giggle spontaneously. You laugh the most for Greer but she puts the most effort in.
--have incredible balance--Daddy holds you up in the air by ONE HAND which I HATE but you balance yourself just fine.
--this is also why you'll be walking in like a month
--you bat your eyes. I swear it to be true.
--you get very excited when I come into the room. It's fantastic. Your face lights up, you flash a huge grin, and your arms and legs go wild. Your eyes don't leave me, they follow me all around the room.
You're the best stalker in the whole wide world.
--you're talking a lot. Tonight you talked for ten minutes straight, completing interrupting a conversation that Emily and I were having. You just butted your way right in, "a-gaaaaa"ing away.
Made me realize that between me, you, and Greer, the males in this family will be doing a LOT of listening.
--I just brought out teether toys for you
--I've also begun ordering your Christmas gifts. A clip-on high chair is on your list....hard to believe that very, very soon, you will join us at the dinner table.
--though you are four months and though you will soon be sitting at the table, you will not be enjoying solid food for many months yet. No processed cereals for you--it's mama's milk until you can gum some soft fruits and veggies on your own.
--you're getting bored easily. You're less happy to lay on the floor and play, partly because you always flip over but also partly because you now realize how much you like to be held and played with. And you can see very well that there are five people in the room at any given time who COULD be available to you if you beckon them desperately enough.
--6-12 month clothing for you already! Which means that everything I bought you for Christmas (months ago) is not going to fit. I didn't think you'd, uhhh, round out so well so fast!
You have stolen my heart, wee girl.
I simply can't imagine there being a sweeter baby alive.
I would contest it openly and would bet my life that it's just not possible.
Thank you for being so happy.
It makes me feel like even though this place is just a hotbed of crazy, it's a wonderful kind of crazy.
And thank you for being mine, all mine.
I don't know how I got so unbelievably lucky.
Love you, Luxie Lu.
Mama
Thursday, October 28, 2010
You--16 Weeks, 3 Days
YOU JUST ROLLED OVER!
I can't believe it--you're so young yet!
I'm telling you though, this house just does something to tiny people.
Everyone's always in such a daggone hurry to grown up and follow those siblings around!
Oh, Luxie.
You have stolen my heart, it's true.
I was never one to worry if I'd love my subsequent children as much as I loved Chas.
It's never been about degrees of love or having "enough" to give or anything like that for me.
What I worry over is time--making sure everyone gets what they need from me.
But you, you are just such a delight and I spend great heaping gobs of time kissing you and hugging you and doing stupid stuff just to make you smile.
When we're apart, I can't wait to get back to you.
When we sleep at night, I am so grateful to have you in my bed, to feel you so close for those hours that we could be apart.
This rolling of yours is definitely a bit sad to me for that reason because it starts the timer on you leaving my bed.
It won't be like this for much longer because as you grow stronger and realize how that (marvelously, fantastically plump) little body of yours works, you'll use it.
And it'll take you right off the cliff that is my bed!
You'll likely be crawling in two months time.
How did we get here so fast?
I feel like you just arrived, Luxie.
The days are flying by me and I guess in some regards, they are bittersweet because I don't feel like I've had as much time with you as I'd like.
There have been days recently where I've thought to myself...I feel like a working mom.
I nurse you and then, just as you are awake and happy and drooly and smiling so wide I think your face might just crack, I zip off to run someone somewhere and your day goes by without me there.
I've never ever been apart from anyone else as much as I've been apart from you.
And I've had nearly whole damn days of this zipping in to nurse and then zipping right back out again.
And I HATE it.
The alternative though isn't fun for you as you have Car Issues (MUCH improved but still) and the reality is this: I am mommy to four others.
In order to try and do right by everyone, I end up splitting myself between five people and I don't always feel great about how the chips of my time fall.
I think it's just part of mothering a big family and I don't necessarily want everyone to scrap their favorite activities so I can lounge in bed with you more but...still.
I never wanted to be a working mom so this is a difficult feeling for me sometimes and it's a new feeling, too.
I don't remember this even after having Creux.
But with each child, I must juggle harder and faster and maybe the difference is in the amount of balls that I drop.
I used to drop non-important balls, like forgetting to attend something I signed up for.
That stuff isn't even on my register these days.
The balls I drop now often have my children's names on them and BOY does that stink to realize.
Having said that, I do whisk you off to bed in private whenever I get the chance.
In the mornings, I stay upstairs until after your first nursing.
In the afternoons, after running around all day, you and I will climb into bed together for a brief nursing and it does us both a world of good.
I've heard the same sigh of contentment whistle out of you the same as it does me when we finally meet up this way.
There's just an amazing biological connection between us--so strong and natural and pure.
And the best feeling in the world is to just indulge that a little bit.
It's necessary--vital.
We both need it.
You:
--are starting to suck your thumb again! You did this when you were very new, whenever you could "catch" it, but now you know where your hands are and have no trouble getting them to your mouth. You suck it kind of funny though, with your hand turned down so that your fingers fall under your chin. SO. CUTE.
-- are beginning to lose the hair at the back of your head.
--are not only starting to roll over but trying to sit up as well.
--spend copious amounts of time blowing raspberries. This is your preferred method of communication with me, too. You will listen and smile while I talk and then there will be a brief pause while you wait to see if I'm going to continue or not and then if I don't, you start "talking" back with spit bubbles. Somehow you make this charming.
--have picked up the name "little sister." Greer is often called "sister" around here so it's not a stretch that this nickname would extend to you--modified, of course.
--when you are pissed, you scream and it sounds super girly and high pitched. It's adorably monsterous.
--are moving into 6 month clothes. (Pork chop!)
Today marks the one year anniversary of You. I learned of your quiet existance one year ago today and I've been just lost in that memory all week long but especially today. Walking around tonight with your siblings (you stayed in with Memaw), it was very surreal to me. Last year, I wondered about you, who you'd be (boy? girl?), what we'd end up naming you (not the name I SWORE it would be), and how things would change by this time this year.
You light up my life and the best decision I ever made was to push for you, my fifth baby.
I've written before that you were never a part of the "original deal" as far as family planning was concerned and it wasn't until I had Greer even that I started feeling like four wasn't my number.
I feel so grateful for you, so lucky, so happy that I followed my heart, that your daddy followed it too :), and that you are sleeping so peacefully in your swing while I sit and write to you.
Today is a special day, one that I'll never forget.
Last year on this night, you arrived in my heart.
This year, you rolled over.
I can't wait to see what next year brings.
(One more little trick or treater, for sure!)
Love,
Mama
I can't believe it--you're so young yet!
I'm telling you though, this house just does something to tiny people.
Everyone's always in such a daggone hurry to grown up and follow those siblings around!
Oh, Luxie.
You have stolen my heart, it's true.
I was never one to worry if I'd love my subsequent children as much as I loved Chas.
It's never been about degrees of love or having "enough" to give or anything like that for me.
What I worry over is time--making sure everyone gets what they need from me.
But you, you are just such a delight and I spend great heaping gobs of time kissing you and hugging you and doing stupid stuff just to make you smile.
When we're apart, I can't wait to get back to you.
When we sleep at night, I am so grateful to have you in my bed, to feel you so close for those hours that we could be apart.
This rolling of yours is definitely a bit sad to me for that reason because it starts the timer on you leaving my bed.
It won't be like this for much longer because as you grow stronger and realize how that (marvelously, fantastically plump) little body of yours works, you'll use it.
And it'll take you right off the cliff that is my bed!
You'll likely be crawling in two months time.
How did we get here so fast?
I feel like you just arrived, Luxie.
The days are flying by me and I guess in some regards, they are bittersweet because I don't feel like I've had as much time with you as I'd like.
There have been days recently where I've thought to myself...I feel like a working mom.
I nurse you and then, just as you are awake and happy and drooly and smiling so wide I think your face might just crack, I zip off to run someone somewhere and your day goes by without me there.
I've never ever been apart from anyone else as much as I've been apart from you.
And I've had nearly whole damn days of this zipping in to nurse and then zipping right back out again.
And I HATE it.
The alternative though isn't fun for you as you have Car Issues (MUCH improved but still) and the reality is this: I am mommy to four others.
In order to try and do right by everyone, I end up splitting myself between five people and I don't always feel great about how the chips of my time fall.
I think it's just part of mothering a big family and I don't necessarily want everyone to scrap their favorite activities so I can lounge in bed with you more but...still.
I never wanted to be a working mom so this is a difficult feeling for me sometimes and it's a new feeling, too.
I don't remember this even after having Creux.
But with each child, I must juggle harder and faster and maybe the difference is in the amount of balls that I drop.
I used to drop non-important balls, like forgetting to attend something I signed up for.
That stuff isn't even on my register these days.
The balls I drop now often have my children's names on them and BOY does that stink to realize.
Having said that, I do whisk you off to bed in private whenever I get the chance.
In the mornings, I stay upstairs until after your first nursing.
In the afternoons, after running around all day, you and I will climb into bed together for a brief nursing and it does us both a world of good.
I've heard the same sigh of contentment whistle out of you the same as it does me when we finally meet up this way.
There's just an amazing biological connection between us--so strong and natural and pure.
And the best feeling in the world is to just indulge that a little bit.
It's necessary--vital.
We both need it.
You:
--are starting to suck your thumb again! You did this when you were very new, whenever you could "catch" it, but now you know where your hands are and have no trouble getting them to your mouth. You suck it kind of funny though, with your hand turned down so that your fingers fall under your chin. SO. CUTE.
-- are beginning to lose the hair at the back of your head.
--are not only starting to roll over but trying to sit up as well.
--spend copious amounts of time blowing raspberries. This is your preferred method of communication with me, too. You will listen and smile while I talk and then there will be a brief pause while you wait to see if I'm going to continue or not and then if I don't, you start "talking" back with spit bubbles. Somehow you make this charming.
--have picked up the name "little sister." Greer is often called "sister" around here so it's not a stretch that this nickname would extend to you--modified, of course.
--when you are pissed, you scream and it sounds super girly and high pitched. It's adorably monsterous.
--are moving into 6 month clothes. (Pork chop!)
Today marks the one year anniversary of You. I learned of your quiet existance one year ago today and I've been just lost in that memory all week long but especially today. Walking around tonight with your siblings (you stayed in with Memaw), it was very surreal to me. Last year, I wondered about you, who you'd be (boy? girl?), what we'd end up naming you (not the name I SWORE it would be), and how things would change by this time this year.
You light up my life and the best decision I ever made was to push for you, my fifth baby.
I've written before that you were never a part of the "original deal" as far as family planning was concerned and it wasn't until I had Greer even that I started feeling like four wasn't my number.
I feel so grateful for you, so lucky, so happy that I followed my heart, that your daddy followed it too :), and that you are sleeping so peacefully in your swing while I sit and write to you.
Today is a special day, one that I'll never forget.
Last year on this night, you arrived in my heart.
This year, you rolled over.
I can't wait to see what next year brings.
(One more little trick or treater, for sure!)
Love,
Mama
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
You--15 Weeks, 3 Days
You're much better!
That was a doozy of a cold and it definitely had you down for a few days but you're so much better now.
I suspect that we had a touch of strep here in the house so I was worried that you'd pick it up.
But you probably had enough good exposure and had the immunities that I was building up on my own, passed to you through my milk, that it kept you from getting super sick.
I'm just glad it's over!
Sick babies are the WORST in a family.
My worry shifts into over-drive.
I bought you a teething toy yesterday.
It's CRAZY to think that you're just about four months old and this teething business is really just right around the corner.
So is rolling.
You flipped onto your side while lying on your activity mat today.
It won't be long now and you'll be a rolling machine.
Then crawling.
Then walking.
Our babies usually walk between 9-10 months (freakishly gross-motor advanced, I'm telling ya!) and to look at you, it's insane to think of you toddling around this place in six months time.
But it'll happen in the blink of an eye.
We had to switch your swing from the cradle rock, side-to-side, to the safer front-to-back mode.
You were trying to sit up in that thing and ended up slumping over one side, scaring the life out of me repeatedly.
You've moved into size 2 diapers.
And it's funny to me, now that you're all super cute and chunked out, that EVERYONE comments on how much you look like your daddy.
It's true.
All of you babies do at this point, with Creux probably resembling Daddy the most as an infant but you all have those round Martin eyes, as blue as the sea, and there just becomes this really strong family resemblence that I can't quite put my finger on...I just identify it as "Martin" like everyone else does.
I'm hearing less the Greer connection and more Daddy right now.
In private, Daddy says, "We've had a lot of sweet babies but she may just be the sweetest."
Which makes me laugh.
Because he does not realize that he says that every time we have a new baby.
And I'm not telling you that to diminish his statement (because it really may be true) but to point out what a baby lover he really is and how lucky you are to be his.
He's simply the best when it comes to you babies.
He's never put out about stuff--never complains when I wake him to change a diaper, or when I ask him to give a bath, change an outfit, hold so I can get a break, whatever.
It always seems to be his pleasure.
And YOU have already wrapped him around your eensy weensy finger.
I saw him laying on the bed tonight with you--you were just dazzling him with smiles and he was caught up in your sweetness.
It's precious, really.
You laugh when I chomp your neck.
The boys like when you slap at your dangling toys.
You no longer scream in the car. (WHEW.)
You light up whenever a sibling magically appears an inch from your nose though I can tell that Creux makes you slightly uncomfortable still.
(Me too, doll, me too ;))
Halloween is almost here.
I've been sort of tripping down my own Memory Lane, remembering this time from last year.
From before I knew of you.
We were at a farm recently and I walked by a place where I remembered us gathering for a family photo last October and it took me back there in my mind. I remember thinking: "I wonder if there will be someone else in this picture next year? Am I pregnant?"
I was pretty sure there would be.
And I was pretty sure I was.
But you never know.
Still, I was excited about the idea.
And you are better than I could have ever imagined.
I love you, Luxie-Lu.
XX
Mama
That was a doozy of a cold and it definitely had you down for a few days but you're so much better now.
I suspect that we had a touch of strep here in the house so I was worried that you'd pick it up.
But you probably had enough good exposure and had the immunities that I was building up on my own, passed to you through my milk, that it kept you from getting super sick.
I'm just glad it's over!
Sick babies are the WORST in a family.
My worry shifts into over-drive.
I bought you a teething toy yesterday.
It's CRAZY to think that you're just about four months old and this teething business is really just right around the corner.
So is rolling.
You flipped onto your side while lying on your activity mat today.
It won't be long now and you'll be a rolling machine.
Then crawling.
Then walking.
Our babies usually walk between 9-10 months (freakishly gross-motor advanced, I'm telling ya!) and to look at you, it's insane to think of you toddling around this place in six months time.
But it'll happen in the blink of an eye.
We had to switch your swing from the cradle rock, side-to-side, to the safer front-to-back mode.
You were trying to sit up in that thing and ended up slumping over one side, scaring the life out of me repeatedly.
You've moved into size 2 diapers.
And it's funny to me, now that you're all super cute and chunked out, that EVERYONE comments on how much you look like your daddy.
It's true.
All of you babies do at this point, with Creux probably resembling Daddy the most as an infant but you all have those round Martin eyes, as blue as the sea, and there just becomes this really strong family resemblence that I can't quite put my finger on...I just identify it as "Martin" like everyone else does.
I'm hearing less the Greer connection and more Daddy right now.
In private, Daddy says, "We've had a lot of sweet babies but she may just be the sweetest."
Which makes me laugh.
Because he does not realize that he says that every time we have a new baby.
And I'm not telling you that to diminish his statement (because it really may be true) but to point out what a baby lover he really is and how lucky you are to be his.
He's simply the best when it comes to you babies.
He's never put out about stuff--never complains when I wake him to change a diaper, or when I ask him to give a bath, change an outfit, hold so I can get a break, whatever.
It always seems to be his pleasure.
And YOU have already wrapped him around your eensy weensy finger.
I saw him laying on the bed tonight with you--you were just dazzling him with smiles and he was caught up in your sweetness.
It's precious, really.
You laugh when I chomp your neck.
The boys like when you slap at your dangling toys.
You no longer scream in the car. (WHEW.)
You light up whenever a sibling magically appears an inch from your nose though I can tell that Creux makes you slightly uncomfortable still.
(Me too, doll, me too ;))
Halloween is almost here.
I've been sort of tripping down my own Memory Lane, remembering this time from last year.
From before I knew of you.
We were at a farm recently and I walked by a place where I remembered us gathering for a family photo last October and it took me back there in my mind. I remember thinking: "I wonder if there will be someone else in this picture next year? Am I pregnant?"
I was pretty sure there would be.
And I was pretty sure I was.
But you never know.
Still, I was excited about the idea.
And you are better than I could have ever imagined.
I love you, Luxie-Lu.
XX
Mama
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
You--14 Weeks, 2 Days
Oh Luxie.
You are so sick.
You have your very first real cold and it STINKS.
Two days of vomiting now--thankfully it's only milk so it's not so bad but it's the worst thing I've ever heard.
You're feverless though and I believe that this is just your way of getting rid of all of the mucous that's rattling around inside you.
You can't blow your nose so you sneeze it out and you can't cough it up so you puke it out.
I can tell it's not normal vomit as it's very...well, mucousy.
Gross, right?
You woke us around 5:45ish in the early morning.
I'd just nursed you and you were settling back to sleep but were having a hard time doing so.
Since you're so snotty, it's super hard for you to breath while nursing.
You end up gulping and gasping and then crying in frustration.
But you managed to get a meal in and we laid down together and then you started coughing and coughing and coughing and then WHOOSH!
You projectiled all over yourself, me, the bed.
And when I scrambled out into the dark and fumbled for a light, I passed you off to Daddy who held you during the second wave of nasty funk.
We changed you and both slept on towels.
This morning you did it again and ended up starting the day with a bath.
I'd been a little worried due to all that vomiting but I really don't suspect a virus to be causing it--I honestly believe it's your body's way of getting rid of the bad stuff sitting around inside you so I thought we'd see how the day went before taking you into the doc.
I don't think they'd be able to do anything anyway.
I'm just keeping you comfy at home, making sure your eating and sleeping...and having wet diapers.
I check your soft spot too for signs of dehydration.
But so far, you seem to be handling this alright.
The rest of the day was eventless in the way of puke :)
I've never known a happier puker either!
You vomit and then dazzle me with a gummy smile.
It breaks my heart--you're just so darn SWEET!
And I've noticed that when you're struggling to breathe in your sleep, I hold my breath involuntarily.
It's only when I think you've inhaled finally that I do too.
It's weird--I'm aware of it but unable to stop myself.
Luxe, you are officially one year old--to me.
This is right about the time last year that you were made.
Called up, if you will.
It's so crazy to think that you started out as just this little twinkle in my eye.
I went to the pumpkin patch last year with you dividing like mad inside me and I had no clue of your existence.
I wondered, of course.
But I had still had weeks of wondering to do before I could find out.
And then there was that negative pregnancy test.
I was so grouchy and snippy all week long after that.
Crushed by disappointment.
It still boggles my mind that I didn't retest a few days later--I waited almost a whole week!
When I finally did, l remember watching your super, super faint line, that "little line of mine" grow dark right before my eyes.
Announcing your "arrival."
I found out about you the night we went trick-or-treating and I was so happy I don't think my feet actually touched the ground.
I was so high.
Here we are a year later and you're better than I could have ever imagined.
Three and a half months of chubby delight, you are!
So happy and content.
You've changed so much since I've written here last:
--You're getting fat, sister. The all-milk diet certainly agrees with you.
--You're doing better in the car. We bought you some toys. And they seem to intrigue you enough to help you forget about how much you friggin' HATE your seat.
Thank. GOD.
--Though you're doing better, I've rearranged how we shuffle you around town and it's a simple plan: we don't take you unless we absolutely have to.
I'm lucky to have help at home that I trust, mostly in the form of your cousin and your oldest brother.
I've left you more than I've ever left any baby.
But I think you are happier for it as I leave A LOT and instead of getting dragged all over the place, you sleep in the swing.
It's been a nice adjustment.
--You're drooling and chewing on your fists any chance you get! Already, this drooling stuff? And stuffing things into your mouth? Noooooo.
--You crack me up when you find your hands. You lay back and inspect them curiously, turning them from side to side. Like..."What in...the hell... is THIS????"
--You pull my hair. Or you cling to it. You just seem to like it in your fingers.
All you babies have been that way.
--You're never cradled anymore, always held upright and mostly held facing outwards. This is my signature baby holding move--I very rarely hold babies over the shoulder or on my hip. You guys like to look around!
I don't blame you. There's lots of good stuff to see.
--You are the Raspberry Blowing QUEEN! You blow, I blow. We're both soaked by the time we're done playing.
--You're talking a lot these days. Cooing, trilling. High to low, making funny expressions with your eyebrows. It cracks me up.
--And when I laugh, you light up with a smile. Happiness IS contagious.
I sure hope you get better soon, my little Mucous Monster.
(I stole that from Chas, who held you the other day until proclaiming you to be "too juicy" for his liking and then he said, "Please come get this Mucous Monster." I thought that was worth stealing.)
Love,
Mama
You are so sick.
You have your very first real cold and it STINKS.
Two days of vomiting now--thankfully it's only milk so it's not so bad but it's the worst thing I've ever heard.
You're feverless though and I believe that this is just your way of getting rid of all of the mucous that's rattling around inside you.
You can't blow your nose so you sneeze it out and you can't cough it up so you puke it out.
I can tell it's not normal vomit as it's very...well, mucousy.
Gross, right?
You woke us around 5:45ish in the early morning.
I'd just nursed you and you were settling back to sleep but were having a hard time doing so.
Since you're so snotty, it's super hard for you to breath while nursing.
You end up gulping and gasping and then crying in frustration.
But you managed to get a meal in and we laid down together and then you started coughing and coughing and coughing and then WHOOSH!
You projectiled all over yourself, me, the bed.
And when I scrambled out into the dark and fumbled for a light, I passed you off to Daddy who held you during the second wave of nasty funk.
We changed you and both slept on towels.
This morning you did it again and ended up starting the day with a bath.
I'd been a little worried due to all that vomiting but I really don't suspect a virus to be causing it--I honestly believe it's your body's way of getting rid of the bad stuff sitting around inside you so I thought we'd see how the day went before taking you into the doc.
I don't think they'd be able to do anything anyway.
I'm just keeping you comfy at home, making sure your eating and sleeping...and having wet diapers.
I check your soft spot too for signs of dehydration.
But so far, you seem to be handling this alright.
The rest of the day was eventless in the way of puke :)
I've never known a happier puker either!
You vomit and then dazzle me with a gummy smile.
It breaks my heart--you're just so darn SWEET!
And I've noticed that when you're struggling to breathe in your sleep, I hold my breath involuntarily.
It's only when I think you've inhaled finally that I do too.
It's weird--I'm aware of it but unable to stop myself.
Luxe, you are officially one year old--to me.
This is right about the time last year that you were made.
Called up, if you will.
It's so crazy to think that you started out as just this little twinkle in my eye.
I went to the pumpkin patch last year with you dividing like mad inside me and I had no clue of your existence.
I wondered, of course.
But I had still had weeks of wondering to do before I could find out.
And then there was that negative pregnancy test.
I was so grouchy and snippy all week long after that.
Crushed by disappointment.
It still boggles my mind that I didn't retest a few days later--I waited almost a whole week!
When I finally did, l remember watching your super, super faint line, that "little line of mine" grow dark right before my eyes.
Announcing your "arrival."
I found out about you the night we went trick-or-treating and I was so happy I don't think my feet actually touched the ground.
I was so high.
Here we are a year later and you're better than I could have ever imagined.
Three and a half months of chubby delight, you are!
So happy and content.
You've changed so much since I've written here last:
--You're getting fat, sister. The all-milk diet certainly agrees with you.
--You're doing better in the car. We bought you some toys. And they seem to intrigue you enough to help you forget about how much you friggin' HATE your seat.
Thank. GOD.
--Though you're doing better, I've rearranged how we shuffle you around town and it's a simple plan: we don't take you unless we absolutely have to.
I'm lucky to have help at home that I trust, mostly in the form of your cousin and your oldest brother.
I've left you more than I've ever left any baby.
But I think you are happier for it as I leave A LOT and instead of getting dragged all over the place, you sleep in the swing.
It's been a nice adjustment.
--You're drooling and chewing on your fists any chance you get! Already, this drooling stuff? And stuffing things into your mouth? Noooooo.
--You crack me up when you find your hands. You lay back and inspect them curiously, turning them from side to side. Like..."What in...the hell... is THIS????"
--You pull my hair. Or you cling to it. You just seem to like it in your fingers.
All you babies have been that way.
--You're never cradled anymore, always held upright and mostly held facing outwards. This is my signature baby holding move--I very rarely hold babies over the shoulder or on my hip. You guys like to look around!
I don't blame you. There's lots of good stuff to see.
--You are the Raspberry Blowing QUEEN! You blow, I blow. We're both soaked by the time we're done playing.
--You're talking a lot these days. Cooing, trilling. High to low, making funny expressions with your eyebrows. It cracks me up.
--And when I laugh, you light up with a smile. Happiness IS contagious.
I sure hope you get better soon, my little Mucous Monster.
(I stole that from Chas, who held you the other day until proclaiming you to be "too juicy" for his liking and then he said, "Please come get this Mucous Monster." I thought that was worth stealing.)
Love,
Mama
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
The Morning Of Your Birth--Game Plan
I didn't sleep well after the events of the night before.
I really hadn't planned on sleeping, actually.
We were "taking a break" which, in hindsight, was probably Jill's kind way of letting me down easy.
But deep down, I knew we were done with homebirthing.
I'd thought then, that night, that I'd truly never been more exhausted but I would prove myself wrong.
The day of your birth, that morning when I officially woke, it was then that I'd never been more exhausted.
I hadn't eaten in over 12 hours at this point so I was physically drained and mentally, I'd shut down a bit.
I was almost despondent.
So very disappointed.
And while I knew I'd be having a baby later in the day, I had a whole different take on how things would go.
Since I woke up without any contractions, my plan was to make a leisurely appearance at the hospital.
Because I was so tired and would be in the hospital anyway, I now planned on a medicated birth.
(There is no shame in a medicated birth, in my opinion. Unless you are the woman currently feeling like your insides are being set on fire and twisted up like scrap metal, I say "shut yer piehole." Luxie, you do what you want when it comes to this and don't let anyone persuade you one way or another. I'll always give you my take on the matter since I've now done it both ways but there are pros and cons to each. More than anything else, I say "stay away from Nazi nurses." In fact, I will gladly help you in this matter! BUT, if you would like to know, I'd choose natural. Surprised?)
I woke Daddy up around 7:30am.
I'd slept so badly that I could've woken him at 5:00, 5:20, 5:45, 6:10, or any twenty minute period after that.
But I wanted to make a game plan for the day and this seemed like a less cruel hour than the ones previously mentioned.
I had no idea that the midwives had stayed overnight.
They slept on our couches and it's still strange to me that I never thought about where they went or what they were doing after leaving my bedroom the night before.
I guess it makes sense that they would be there but still.
I was sort of thrown by that but immensely happy that they were near.
I never truly believed that either of us were in any harm, I know I keep saying that.
But I should admit that I was very uncomfortable the night before and was worried about you being stressed from all the laboring activity.
At one point, your hair could been seen from my birthing position so I know it just must've been wild for you, too.
The in and out, and starting and stopping, the strange hands in your private space.
I wanted to hear your heartbeat.
I knew Jill had the Doppler in her bag and I just wanted to hear you.
And then I could get on with my day.
When Daddy woke up, he asked me what I wanted to do.
I said that I knew we should go to the hospital at that point.
What else could be done?
He went to get Jill.
Jill came up and we talked for a bit in my bed.
She knew I was disappointed and tired but I think there was another emotion coursing through me and it was this woman-on-the-verge thing.
I was hanging on by a thread.
What I wanted to do was spend the day in my bed moping and feeling sorry for myself.
And sleeping.
God, I need sleep so badly that morning.
I wanted to be left completely alone--I didn't even want Daddy around.
I needed time to sort of recover from the whole everything-but-nothing from the day before.
But I knew I was totally out of time.
Jill and Abby were both in support of me leaving home and having you in the hospital, the sooner, the better, since now we'd opened us up to infection.
I know this because I pushed the issue one last time.
But THIS time it was YOUR choosing!
When Jill and I were first speaking, she asked how I was feeling and I told her all that I just wrote here.
And then I said, "And last night I was having all those contractions and today--nothing."
Because it was true.
I wasn't having any contractions that morning.
It was like the events of the night before were already a distant memory to my uterus.
I moved from my bed into the bathroom and I started pulling things out for my hospital bag.
I wasn't crying but I was just...quiet.
Tired.
Sad.
Dreading the day.
Isn't that strange to say?
And it's not that I dreaded your birth--that was the only bright spot in all of it.
But I did not want to go to the hospital in my condition.
I did not want to be the homebirth-gone-bad.
I did not want to be harassed about my water being broken.
(And now that time has passed, I can say it: I lied to them about the timing of that. I think I shaved off, oh, a DAY because I absolutely KNEW they'd totally flip out.)
I did not want to be in the hospital environment, didn't want to stay there, didn't want to leave your siblings, didn't want to, didn't want to, didn't want to.
Jill listened to me and then she planted the seed of all seeds:
"Angi, no one can MAKE you stay in the hospital."
I'm sorry, what?
No one can MAKE me?
I looked at her.
"What will happen if I leave?"
"You will have to sign papers taking full responsibility for yourself and your baby. And they won't like it one bit. It's not done often but it CAN be done."
I didn't make my decision right then and there to leave but I was super happy she tucked that bit of info into what was left of my brain because I would later need it.
I can recall the EXACT moment when I made the decision to walk "against medical advice" and it wasn't until after you'd arrived.
I was treated precisely how I thought I'd have been treated by my labor and delivery nurse and the doctor in charge of your birth.
But when that treatment extended to YOU, we were out of there.
(I'll tell you more later. I'm getting ahead of myself!)
Jill and Daddy and I discussed hospital choices.
She preferred us going to Grant but I was definitely hesitant.
We have a terrific surburban hospital about three minutes from us with a gorgeous maternity wing and all kinds of bells and whistles.
Plus I'd already delivered there twice (Chas and Creux) so that's where I wanted to go.
But Jill and Abby were more comfortable dealing with the staff at Grant as this was where they typically took their patients who needed "help".
Grant, however, is inner city.
Like people go there for gun-shot wounds from bar-room brawls.
It was not giving me the warm and fuzzy, to say the least.
They left the decision up to me and I pushed it back on Daddy.
He felt like they would know better in this situation so I went with it.
(I do not regret this decision and believe that while I MIGHT have received slightly better care in the beginning, I would have faced a much bigger battle getting us out of there if we were at St. Ann's.)
Jill left to make the call to Grant to alert them that we were coming in.
I wanted a shower, even though I'd showered the night before.
Really, I think I needed an excuse for alone time.
I needed to pull myself together emotionally, at least the bare minimum.
I'd already planned to help myself out physically with the epidural so I figured I was good there.
But I needed some time to come to terms with everything that had happened and was about to happen.
I needed to find some strength to at least get me to the hospital.
I was so very, very tired.
I had no idea that everything was seconds away from changing yet again.
There would be no rest for me.
I really hadn't planned on sleeping, actually.
We were "taking a break" which, in hindsight, was probably Jill's kind way of letting me down easy.
But deep down, I knew we were done with homebirthing.
I'd thought then, that night, that I'd truly never been more exhausted but I would prove myself wrong.
The day of your birth, that morning when I officially woke, it was then that I'd never been more exhausted.
I hadn't eaten in over 12 hours at this point so I was physically drained and mentally, I'd shut down a bit.
I was almost despondent.
So very disappointed.
And while I knew I'd be having a baby later in the day, I had a whole different take on how things would go.
Since I woke up without any contractions, my plan was to make a leisurely appearance at the hospital.
Because I was so tired and would be in the hospital anyway, I now planned on a medicated birth.
(There is no shame in a medicated birth, in my opinion. Unless you are the woman currently feeling like your insides are being set on fire and twisted up like scrap metal, I say "shut yer piehole." Luxie, you do what you want when it comes to this and don't let anyone persuade you one way or another. I'll always give you my take on the matter since I've now done it both ways but there are pros and cons to each. More than anything else, I say "stay away from Nazi nurses." In fact, I will gladly help you in this matter! BUT, if you would like to know, I'd choose natural. Surprised?)
I woke Daddy up around 7:30am.
I'd slept so badly that I could've woken him at 5:00, 5:20, 5:45, 6:10, or any twenty minute period after that.
But I wanted to make a game plan for the day and this seemed like a less cruel hour than the ones previously mentioned.
I had no idea that the midwives had stayed overnight.
They slept on our couches and it's still strange to me that I never thought about where they went or what they were doing after leaving my bedroom the night before.
I guess it makes sense that they would be there but still.
I was sort of thrown by that but immensely happy that they were near.
I never truly believed that either of us were in any harm, I know I keep saying that.
But I should admit that I was very uncomfortable the night before and was worried about you being stressed from all the laboring activity.
At one point, your hair could been seen from my birthing position so I know it just must've been wild for you, too.
The in and out, and starting and stopping, the strange hands in your private space.
I wanted to hear your heartbeat.
I knew Jill had the Doppler in her bag and I just wanted to hear you.
And then I could get on with my day.
When Daddy woke up, he asked me what I wanted to do.
I said that I knew we should go to the hospital at that point.
What else could be done?
He went to get Jill.
Jill came up and we talked for a bit in my bed.
She knew I was disappointed and tired but I think there was another emotion coursing through me and it was this woman-on-the-verge thing.
I was hanging on by a thread.
What I wanted to do was spend the day in my bed moping and feeling sorry for myself.
And sleeping.
God, I need sleep so badly that morning.
I wanted to be left completely alone--I didn't even want Daddy around.
I needed time to sort of recover from the whole everything-but-nothing from the day before.
But I knew I was totally out of time.
Jill and Abby were both in support of me leaving home and having you in the hospital, the sooner, the better, since now we'd opened us up to infection.
I know this because I pushed the issue one last time.
But THIS time it was YOUR choosing!
When Jill and I were first speaking, she asked how I was feeling and I told her all that I just wrote here.
And then I said, "And last night I was having all those contractions and today--nothing."
Because it was true.
I wasn't having any contractions that morning.
It was like the events of the night before were already a distant memory to my uterus.
I moved from my bed into the bathroom and I started pulling things out for my hospital bag.
I wasn't crying but I was just...quiet.
Tired.
Sad.
Dreading the day.
Isn't that strange to say?
And it's not that I dreaded your birth--that was the only bright spot in all of it.
But I did not want to go to the hospital in my condition.
I did not want to be the homebirth-gone-bad.
I did not want to be harassed about my water being broken.
(And now that time has passed, I can say it: I lied to them about the timing of that. I think I shaved off, oh, a DAY because I absolutely KNEW they'd totally flip out.)
I did not want to be in the hospital environment, didn't want to stay there, didn't want to leave your siblings, didn't want to, didn't want to, didn't want to.
Jill listened to me and then she planted the seed of all seeds:
"Angi, no one can MAKE you stay in the hospital."
I'm sorry, what?
No one can MAKE me?
I looked at her.
"What will happen if I leave?"
"You will have to sign papers taking full responsibility for yourself and your baby. And they won't like it one bit. It's not done often but it CAN be done."
I didn't make my decision right then and there to leave but I was super happy she tucked that bit of info into what was left of my brain because I would later need it.
I can recall the EXACT moment when I made the decision to walk "against medical advice" and it wasn't until after you'd arrived.
I was treated precisely how I thought I'd have been treated by my labor and delivery nurse and the doctor in charge of your birth.
But when that treatment extended to YOU, we were out of there.
(I'll tell you more later. I'm getting ahead of myself!)
Jill and Daddy and I discussed hospital choices.
She preferred us going to Grant but I was definitely hesitant.
We have a terrific surburban hospital about three minutes from us with a gorgeous maternity wing and all kinds of bells and whistles.
Plus I'd already delivered there twice (Chas and Creux) so that's where I wanted to go.
But Jill and Abby were more comfortable dealing with the staff at Grant as this was where they typically took their patients who needed "help".
Grant, however, is inner city.
Like people go there for gun-shot wounds from bar-room brawls.
It was not giving me the warm and fuzzy, to say the least.
They left the decision up to me and I pushed it back on Daddy.
He felt like they would know better in this situation so I went with it.
(I do not regret this decision and believe that while I MIGHT have received slightly better care in the beginning, I would have faced a much bigger battle getting us out of there if we were at St. Ann's.)
Jill left to make the call to Grant to alert them that we were coming in.
I wanted a shower, even though I'd showered the night before.
Really, I think I needed an excuse for alone time.
I needed to pull myself together emotionally, at least the bare minimum.
I'd already planned to help myself out physically with the epidural so I figured I was good there.
But I needed some time to come to terms with everything that had happened and was about to happen.
I needed to find some strength to at least get me to the hospital.
I was so very, very tired.
I had no idea that everything was seconds away from changing yet again.
There would be no rest for me.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
You--11 Weeks, 3 Days
Luxe,
You are THE MOST STUBBORN baby we've had.
And I know you hate it but you MUST make peace with your car seat because I feel like a child abuser whenever we go somewhere.
I just keep thinking about how it must not make any sense to you that I won't come and stop your crying.
I know you only want picked up.
But I'm driving, child!
When you start, you do not give in until you get what you want.
Your father says you get that from me.
He's right.
But it IS annoying to be on the receiving side of such...determination.
If you start crying in the driveway, you will continue crying until we reach our destination and by then you're practically hyper-ventilating.
And SO AM I.
I don't understand this!
I make sure you're fed and clean before we go anywhere.
You are surrounded by siblings--you face the Littles since you sit backwards and you'd think those two monkeys would be entertaining but nope.
And Rhyse and Chas sit next to you.
But your wailing is just out of control.
PLEASE stop.
It's horrible for both of us and I feel like a need a valium just to get to the grocery and back.
You're digging your heels in over the stupid swing, too.
As it turns out, you really do not want to sleep anywhere else.
And also as it turns out, if I can't make it happen then you won't sleep--you will only doze for about 15-20 minutes in my arms.
By the time I finally get us back home, you're overly tired and you are mean!
Yowling at me from across the room, yowling at me while I carry you, yowling at me while I bounce and snuggle and even sometimes feed.
You'll break your suction to yowl some more just as a reminder to me how pissed you are.
I GET IT.
But we have things to do!
And you, the fifth baby, are supposed to think the car is your napping place, not a torture chamber!
You're supposed to be happy sleeping on the run.
And yet.
You.
Are.
Not.
Bummer.
You giggled finally.
We were in the car last week and Chas was talking about how you giggled and Daddy was shaking his head when I asked him.
"Did she? Oh my gosh, did she? I MISSED IT?"
No, no, no, he kept assuring me.
But I think you giggled for them first and he just won't tell me for fear of some massive hormonal meltdown-y sobfest.
It doesn't matter though because right after that I made you laugh and you totally chuckled briefly.
Not a full belly cackle yet but it's progress.
You also totally barfed in Chas's face the other day and I almost peed my pants from laughing so hard.
He sneaks into our nest in the mornings after I feed you and he picks you up and plays with you.
Makes you fly, makes you bounce, makes you smile.
And also makes you barf :)
I was sorting clothes in my closet (what to wear, WHAT TO WEAR?) when I heard the worst sound emerge from your tiny little body.
It was a... man belch.
I don't know how it escaped from bitty little you but it was impressive.
And I looked up to see Chas with his eyes squished closed, his mouth smashed tight....and lots of curdy breastmilk dripping down his lips and chin.
He was holding you and you were standing, just looking at him curiously.
I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe--it was great fun!
Thanks for that :)
(Though Chas, he's a tad more careful with just-fed-You these days. Haha.)
You're 11 pounds.
I took the Littles in for check-ups and snuck you onto the scale.
11 pounds.
Almost double your birth weight.
I like slightly pudgy You.
We pinch your inner thigh rolls, tug at the second chin you've developed, kiss your round squishy cheeks.
When you were first born, you reminded me of a wee baby bird.
But now you're like a goose.
Not quite a Christmas goose but on your way.
My favorite thing right now?
When you're nursing and I'm talking to you, sometimes you smile while trying to eat.
Suck, suck, suck, pause....GRIN....suck, suck, suck.
I love that.
And I'll tell you it sure as hell beats your yowling at me!
Tomorrow you're going to need your Big Girl Panties, Luxe, as it's co-op day-- followed by two soccer games and a dance class.
I apologize in advance for the nervous breakdown that you're going to have around 4:00pm, followed by mine at 4:45.
It's bad for you, worse for me.
We will snuggle in November, I promise.
The cold weather will come, our obligations will wind down, and me and you--we're going to hibernate and have long lazy nursings back in our nest.
It's a date.
(And I can't wait!)
Love,
Mama
You are THE MOST STUBBORN baby we've had.
And I know you hate it but you MUST make peace with your car seat because I feel like a child abuser whenever we go somewhere.
I just keep thinking about how it must not make any sense to you that I won't come and stop your crying.
I know you only want picked up.
But I'm driving, child!
When you start, you do not give in until you get what you want.
Your father says you get that from me.
He's right.
But it IS annoying to be on the receiving side of such...determination.
If you start crying in the driveway, you will continue crying until we reach our destination and by then you're practically hyper-ventilating.
And SO AM I.
I don't understand this!
I make sure you're fed and clean before we go anywhere.
You are surrounded by siblings--you face the Littles since you sit backwards and you'd think those two monkeys would be entertaining but nope.
And Rhyse and Chas sit next to you.
But your wailing is just out of control.
PLEASE stop.
It's horrible for both of us and I feel like a need a valium just to get to the grocery and back.
You're digging your heels in over the stupid swing, too.
As it turns out, you really do not want to sleep anywhere else.
And also as it turns out, if I can't make it happen then you won't sleep--you will only doze for about 15-20 minutes in my arms.
By the time I finally get us back home, you're overly tired and you are mean!
Yowling at me from across the room, yowling at me while I carry you, yowling at me while I bounce and snuggle and even sometimes feed.
You'll break your suction to yowl some more just as a reminder to me how pissed you are.
I GET IT.
But we have things to do!
And you, the fifth baby, are supposed to think the car is your napping place, not a torture chamber!
You're supposed to be happy sleeping on the run.
And yet.
You.
Are.
Not.
Bummer.
You giggled finally.
We were in the car last week and Chas was talking about how you giggled and Daddy was shaking his head when I asked him.
"Did she? Oh my gosh, did she? I MISSED IT?"
No, no, no, he kept assuring me.
But I think you giggled for them first and he just won't tell me for fear of some massive hormonal meltdown-y sobfest.
It doesn't matter though because right after that I made you laugh and you totally chuckled briefly.
Not a full belly cackle yet but it's progress.
You also totally barfed in Chas's face the other day and I almost peed my pants from laughing so hard.
He sneaks into our nest in the mornings after I feed you and he picks you up and plays with you.
Makes you fly, makes you bounce, makes you smile.
And also makes you barf :)
I was sorting clothes in my closet (what to wear, WHAT TO WEAR?) when I heard the worst sound emerge from your tiny little body.
It was a... man belch.
I don't know how it escaped from bitty little you but it was impressive.
And I looked up to see Chas with his eyes squished closed, his mouth smashed tight....and lots of curdy breastmilk dripping down his lips and chin.
He was holding you and you were standing, just looking at him curiously.
I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe--it was great fun!
Thanks for that :)
(Though Chas, he's a tad more careful with just-fed-You these days. Haha.)
You're 11 pounds.
I took the Littles in for check-ups and snuck you onto the scale.
11 pounds.
Almost double your birth weight.
I like slightly pudgy You.
We pinch your inner thigh rolls, tug at the second chin you've developed, kiss your round squishy cheeks.
When you were first born, you reminded me of a wee baby bird.
But now you're like a goose.
Not quite a Christmas goose but on your way.
My favorite thing right now?
When you're nursing and I'm talking to you, sometimes you smile while trying to eat.
Suck, suck, suck, pause....GRIN....suck, suck, suck.
I love that.
And I'll tell you it sure as hell beats your yowling at me!
Tomorrow you're going to need your Big Girl Panties, Luxe, as it's co-op day-- followed by two soccer games and a dance class.
I apologize in advance for the nervous breakdown that you're going to have around 4:00pm, followed by mine at 4:45.
It's bad for you, worse for me.
We will snuggle in November, I promise.
The cold weather will come, our obligations will wind down, and me and you--we're going to hibernate and have long lazy nursings back in our nest.
It's a date.
(And I can't wait!)
Love,
Mama
Monday, September 13, 2010
You--10 Weeks
I've had mass amounts of anxiety over my non-posting for you.
I swore I'd do better, posting shorter yet more frequently and I was doing so good there for a bit but MAN.
It's hard to take care of you AND write to you!
I'm wiped by the end of the days and it's all I can do to toss up a few cute shots of you and your sibs over on my other blog.
Life has taken a tremendous turn for crazy.
Luxie, you are the bestest baby ever and I mean that sincerely.
Ever since the start of the month, I have dragged you from place to place.
I can't get past it, can't get around it.
We no longer cuddle in my bed for late mornings or afternoon naps--there simply is no time.
I took one nap with you recently, on the first Thursday that we started back to co-op, and I'm not even sure I'd call it a nap.
A mid-day, short-term COMA might be more accurate.
So let me catch you up on you really quickly and then I need to get showered.
I can only shower at night right now while you're sleeping in your swing as my days are too busy and I'm NOT getting up early.
--Your eyelashes are fully in. I noticed this today and took some photos.
Yes, of your eyelashes.
--Luxe, you HATE your carseat and I can't fix this for you. I never ever expected you to dislike that thing so much but if I found a needle buried in the back of it, it would make total sense to me. You sit backwards smack dab in the middle of our car, surrounded by siblings (two facing you, two beside you) and it does not make a damn bit of difference. If you set that thing on fire once you're able to walk, I will totally understand.
--Your swing is where you like to sleep and I don't like this at all. Wasn't I just saying how important I felt it was to shelter you from the noise and chaos downstairs? You're now up in the mornings around 8:30-9:00 and you'll stay awake for an hour or so. We'll cruise the downstairs together, cleaning up the kitchen or doing schoolwork. Then you'll drift off in my arms and I'll sneak you into bed but you never sleep long there.
If we're home (which we aren't), I'll wait until Creux heads down for his nap so it's nice and quiet and then pop you into the swing where you'd happily sleep for DAYS if I let you.
--Your hair is coming in more. Strawberry blonde?
--No giggles yet but tons of smiles and my fave coos. We talk. A LOT.
We're girls, we do that.
--Almost all of your newborn clothing has been packed away. Just a few sleeping gowns are all that's left.
--This is what people say when they first meet you:
"She looks just like the rest of them, doesn't she?"
"Oh my goodness, she looks EXACTLY like her big sister!" (You do. It's uncanny.)
"She's so tiny! How much did she weigh when she was born?"
That last one is so strange to me because I think you're huge! You're nice and solid in my arms, you have two chins and some really cute rolls down by your girly bits. No cellulite yet (I keep checking cause I adore baby cellulite) but we're working on it. Not sure how much you weigh but am guessing somewhere in the 9-10 pound range.
--I've left you several times already. Last week I had to get my hair done and I was a nervous wreck, terrified that you'd wake and need me and that I'd be out in Granville having my fall low-lights put in my hair.
I walked in and said, "I don't have long today. If my sitter calls, I'm walking out with wet, uncut hair if I need to so LET'S MOVE IT!" Because I really didn't need uncut hair. I'd gone almost three long months without any diva maintenancing and BOY did I need it.
--You're just so different these days. You're a big girl, two and a half months old. No more newborny stuff, even sleep-wise--no more. No sleeping on my tummy, no more totally sporadic feeds (you can go three hours now and most times you do), no more baby coma, no more just...newness. You're established somewhat and you've acclimated yourself here just fine. You tolerate the noise pretty well, not even freaking out when someone goes running past you shrieking over someone taking something of theirs. Of course, you've been listening to that crap ever since you were a twinkle in my eye so maybe that's not so surprising.
--I bought THE CUTEST Halloween get-up for you. Not a costume, a...frock. With tulle and glitter and sparkles. Halloween should be every day for you.
You're just a delight.
I love you madly and even on the short runs that I do while you're sleeping...I can't wait to get back to you.
When you sleep long, I can't wait for you to wake so I can kiss and cuddle you a bit.
I miss you in my sleep so I dream about you.
I. Am. Smitten.
Happy 10 weeks to you.
Love,
Mama
P.S. I will do better posting. Again. This is a long-term project at this point, I see no reason not to continue to write to you so...I'm in for the haul. I just need the days to be 30 hours instead of 24. I could do so much with those extra six hours, you have no idea....
I swore I'd do better, posting shorter yet more frequently and I was doing so good there for a bit but MAN.
It's hard to take care of you AND write to you!
I'm wiped by the end of the days and it's all I can do to toss up a few cute shots of you and your sibs over on my other blog.
Life has taken a tremendous turn for crazy.
Luxie, you are the bestest baby ever and I mean that sincerely.
Ever since the start of the month, I have dragged you from place to place.
I can't get past it, can't get around it.
We no longer cuddle in my bed for late mornings or afternoon naps--there simply is no time.
I took one nap with you recently, on the first Thursday that we started back to co-op, and I'm not even sure I'd call it a nap.
A mid-day, short-term COMA might be more accurate.
So let me catch you up on you really quickly and then I need to get showered.
I can only shower at night right now while you're sleeping in your swing as my days are too busy and I'm NOT getting up early.
--Your eyelashes are fully in. I noticed this today and took some photos.
Yes, of your eyelashes.
--Luxe, you HATE your carseat and I can't fix this for you. I never ever expected you to dislike that thing so much but if I found a needle buried in the back of it, it would make total sense to me. You sit backwards smack dab in the middle of our car, surrounded by siblings (two facing you, two beside you) and it does not make a damn bit of difference. If you set that thing on fire once you're able to walk, I will totally understand.
--Your swing is where you like to sleep and I don't like this at all. Wasn't I just saying how important I felt it was to shelter you from the noise and chaos downstairs? You're now up in the mornings around 8:30-9:00 and you'll stay awake for an hour or so. We'll cruise the downstairs together, cleaning up the kitchen or doing schoolwork. Then you'll drift off in my arms and I'll sneak you into bed but you never sleep long there.
If we're home (which we aren't), I'll wait until Creux heads down for his nap so it's nice and quiet and then pop you into the swing where you'd happily sleep for DAYS if I let you.
--Your hair is coming in more. Strawberry blonde?
--No giggles yet but tons of smiles and my fave coos. We talk. A LOT.
We're girls, we do that.
--Almost all of your newborn clothing has been packed away. Just a few sleeping gowns are all that's left.
--This is what people say when they first meet you:
"She looks just like the rest of them, doesn't she?"
"Oh my goodness, she looks EXACTLY like her big sister!" (You do. It's uncanny.)
"She's so tiny! How much did she weigh when she was born?"
That last one is so strange to me because I think you're huge! You're nice and solid in my arms, you have two chins and some really cute rolls down by your girly bits. No cellulite yet (I keep checking cause I adore baby cellulite) but we're working on it. Not sure how much you weigh but am guessing somewhere in the 9-10 pound range.
--I've left you several times already. Last week I had to get my hair done and I was a nervous wreck, terrified that you'd wake and need me and that I'd be out in Granville having my fall low-lights put in my hair.
I walked in and said, "I don't have long today. If my sitter calls, I'm walking out with wet, uncut hair if I need to so LET'S MOVE IT!" Because I really didn't need uncut hair. I'd gone almost three long months without any diva maintenancing and BOY did I need it.
--You're just so different these days. You're a big girl, two and a half months old. No more newborny stuff, even sleep-wise--no more. No sleeping on my tummy, no more totally sporadic feeds (you can go three hours now and most times you do), no more baby coma, no more just...newness. You're established somewhat and you've acclimated yourself here just fine. You tolerate the noise pretty well, not even freaking out when someone goes running past you shrieking over someone taking something of theirs. Of course, you've been listening to that crap ever since you were a twinkle in my eye so maybe that's not so surprising.
--I bought THE CUTEST Halloween get-up for you. Not a costume, a...frock. With tulle and glitter and sparkles. Halloween should be every day for you.
You're just a delight.
I love you madly and even on the short runs that I do while you're sleeping...I can't wait to get back to you.
When you sleep long, I can't wait for you to wake so I can kiss and cuddle you a bit.
I miss you in my sleep so I dream about you.
I. Am. Smitten.
Happy 10 weeks to you.
Love,
Mama
P.S. I will do better posting. Again. This is a long-term project at this point, I see no reason not to continue to write to you so...I'm in for the haul. I just need the days to be 30 hours instead of 24. I could do so much with those extra six hours, you have no idea....
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
The Night You Weren't Born
So when you read this finally, you'll see that big gap from where I last say, "See you soon!" and then...nothing.
I was going to fill it in, to backtrack, but I'm sticking to the authenticity of Your Story.
There's a gap for a reason and the reason was that I couldn't get back to my computer.
It didn't really matter anyway because you weren't there yet.
And I couldn't have updated that post to save my life in the moment.
I said before that nothing went as planned and this much is true.
Things seemed to be going really well but it was just a facade.
You weren't coming that night because you weren't meant to.
And believe me, I tried everything I could think of to convince you to change your mind.
The rush, I suppose, was only in that our risk of infection was rising with each hour that passed.
I truly believed that if either Abby or Jill would just help me out a bit internally that it would be enough to trigger my labor.
I was right...and wrong.
I'd also said a few days before you were born that I knew we were getting close but two things had to happen before you'd arrive.
One was that I'd have an epic meltdown.
And the other thing I relied on was a really vigorous and compelling round of false labor.
(And I think I also mentioned that my false labor trips have all been POST internal exams.)
I had no idea when I said this that these two things were mandatory pre-birth experiences.
I now know better.
They are.
This is Part One of Your Birth Story.
Part Two has already been partially shared on Lifelines but only partially.
I kept a lot for just you.
So I left off on July 4th, where Jill had come over, stripped my membranes, realized that I was a good 6-7 cm dilated and wanted to stick around as my contractions took off, both of us fully expecting your arrival in a short amount of time.
By the time Abby arrived, I was well on my way, with my contractions strong and long and relatively uncomfortable.
My mom had also come by--pre-membrane stripping, we'd invited her for dinner.
So while I labored upstairs, Daddy and all of the kids plus Memaw rushed through their meals.
The plan was that Memaw would take the small ones, leaving the boys behind to witness your arrival, and then she would bring them back as soon as we called with your news.
It was only sometime in the 5 to 6:00 hour at this point and honestly, I think we all thought we'd have a baby within the next hour or so.
I labored in bed for a bit, waiting for Daddy to come up and for the Littles to leave and for things to really pick up for me.
In hindsight, I should have known it was too easy.
Because it was.
Though I had to breathe through the contractions with concentration, would go completely still and silent when working through one, I just should have known.
(Hindsight is always 20/20, as they say. But the very next morning, when I stepped into the shower and was slammed with my first REAL contraction, I knew the difference immediately.)
The weirdest thing about this round of false labor, and this is my personal belief of what it was, was that for all intents and purposes, my body really portrayed signs of impending birth.
I fully dilated at some point and fully effaced.
This is just beyond bizarre to me--I had no idea this could happen during false labor.
But it is a condition that DOES exist as Abby showed me the box she checked on some sort of official paperwork after the fact but it's rare.
Wouldn't you just know it :)
Anyway, when I was fully dilated and effaced, (I did truly reach 10cm) Abby and Jill said I could start pushing.
Again, I should have known something wasn't quite right because though my body acted ready for birth, I never felt that urge to push.
And I can honestly say, having now gone through natural labor, that that urge is the strongest of urges I've ever felt.
There's hunger and thirst and human contact...and pushing.
Those are the true basic urges that exist, if you ask me.
So I never felt that.
But I pushed anyway.
I moved from our bed and labored standing which actually felt much better.
And I pushed in this position for awhile, with everyone there, the boys included.
It was far more awkward than I had anticipated but that was because I wasn't so far gone in pain.
As opposed to real labor, where the whole entire free world could see my goodies and I wouldn't bat an eye, so focused on dealing with my own private pain-consumed hell, here there started to be lulls in my contractions which left us all sort of waiting...and staring at my mostly naked self.
It just didn't feel right to me and I was growing uncomfortable with my audience and I could tell Abby in particular was growing concerned with my lack of progress,
I think we all started to suspect that something was amiss at about the same time.
Time slipped away from me.
I looked at the clock and couldn't believe so much time had passed.
At this point, we'd been "pushing" for over an hour.
I was exhausted and getting frustrated.
What was going on?
I never dreamed it would have taken me more than ten minutes to actually push you into the world.
(In reality, it took me about a minute--one contraction, two pushes.)
At some point, Jill decided to check me internally while I was pushing.
I was still standing beside the bed so she reached up during the next contraction and then she yelled, "STOP!"
Stop?
"When you started pushing, your cervix closed back up."
This was not good.
This basically meant that I couldn't get you out, no matter how hard I tried.
It meant that if I continued pushing, you would bruise my cervix and then I'd be in real trouble.
It meant that we had to stop and this was bad because now we'd really messed around up near you and the risk of infection for both of us just went soaring.
It meant that if things did not change fast, that we were going to be going to the hospital.
So we stopped.
Whereas before this was this buildup of excitement as my contractions had picked up, now there was a heaviness in the room.
I know we were all thinking the same thing and it was this: something was just not right.
Not at all.
We backpedaled majorly.
The boys left the room as the adults talked.
Going to the hospital was definitely mentioned by the midwives but I hadn't given up yet.
"How much time will you give me?" I wanted to know.
I was still hopeful that things would pick back up but really, I knew they wouldn't.
I had already started to suspect that we were done for the night.
d AnI felt like my body was betraying me.
"If nothing happens by morning," they said.
We decided that we'd take a break.
Charlie and I would go for a walk and see if we couldn't get my contractions to pick back up.
I know this is a method that works a lot of times for laboring women but this was just so far off from what I knew.
I've never had to convince my body into labor before.
Normally I'm given notice, the kind I needed "five minutes ago."
Normally I go straight from being fine one minute to intense labor in just a handful.
We walked but my spirits were down, down, down.
During the time we were out there, I would have some good, strong contractions but not as strong as what I was having earlier or what I remembered needing in order to bring you out.
We probably walked for 45 minutes or so and on our second round, we saw Abby come out of the house and walk down to the sidewalk to meet us.
She wanted to talk to me.
As it turned out, Abby was starting to wonder if there wasn't some mental stuff going on with me.
Maybe was I deep down worried about this home birth? Too scared of a natural labor?
Or was it more rooted than that...perhaps was I worried about your birth because I was conflicted about how I'd care for another in addition to all that I already do?
"We're a lot alike, " I remember her saying, "I like to be very in control, too."
But I was certain then and am absolutely certain now that it wasn't some sort of mental block--this stalling of my labor.
I hadn't yet clued in that it was necessarily a trip of false labor---instead I started to worry that something wasn't working right physically.
There's definitely merit found in each of her inquiries but there's also nothing but truth in my response.
It was not mental.
It was, what I firmly believe, my typical round of false labor which has always occurred in the hours following an internal exam.
Nothing less and nothing more.
It was probably around 10:30-11:00pm at this point and I knew we were giving up.
Labor shouldn't be a forced thing, it never has been in the past for me, and I could tell that I was pushing an issue that wasn't to be pushed.
We went inside and talked to the midwives.
We all agreed to take a break and to see how we felt in a few hours.
I never left my bedroom after that so I had no idea that they both ended up sleeping on the couch.
I was a totally exhausted woman by that point, beaten so bad physically and emotionally.
I wanted time alone and so I took a hot shower.
My contractions totally subsided.
When I came out I was so tired, I could barely speak nor keep my eyes open.
Daddy was tired too--at some point, he came to bed and fell right to sleep.
And though I was exhausted, I did not sleep much or well.
We'd just that day placed a light in the pool off our deck and it glowed eerily all night long, disturbing my sleep.
I'd forgotten as well that we'd turned off the fan and opened the deck door to warm up the bedroom for your arrival and everything was still this way.
The room was hot and strangely illuminated.
I tossed and turned and woke hourly.
This was to be the only time during the whole birthing experience that I truly worried about your well-being.
I was very concerned that you had become stressed during that whole laboring ordeal and I kept poking you throughout the night.
I also knew that I no longer could justify staying home any longer.
Deep down, I was not comfortable.
I hated imagining what the next day would bring for me except for this one thing: I knew for sure that you would be in my arms by the end of it.
I imagined an uncomfortable but uneventful check-in, a "typical for me" easy, fast delivery, and a sweet baby to hold finally.
Little did I know that you surely were to be in my arms hours later but that was the only thing I was right about.
***I'm going to switch these posts over to birth entries for the next little while so I can make sure to get this down for you. It's taken me FAR too long to get this much out and it's because I tried to do it all in one entry.
I was going to fill it in, to backtrack, but I'm sticking to the authenticity of Your Story.
There's a gap for a reason and the reason was that I couldn't get back to my computer.
It didn't really matter anyway because you weren't there yet.
And I couldn't have updated that post to save my life in the moment.
I said before that nothing went as planned and this much is true.
Things seemed to be going really well but it was just a facade.
You weren't coming that night because you weren't meant to.
And believe me, I tried everything I could think of to convince you to change your mind.
The rush, I suppose, was only in that our risk of infection was rising with each hour that passed.
I truly believed that if either Abby or Jill would just help me out a bit internally that it would be enough to trigger my labor.
I was right...and wrong.
I'd also said a few days before you were born that I knew we were getting close but two things had to happen before you'd arrive.
One was that I'd have an epic meltdown.
And the other thing I relied on was a really vigorous and compelling round of false labor.
(And I think I also mentioned that my false labor trips have all been POST internal exams.)
I had no idea when I said this that these two things were mandatory pre-birth experiences.
I now know better.
They are.
This is Part One of Your Birth Story.
Part Two has already been partially shared on Lifelines but only partially.
I kept a lot for just you.
So I left off on July 4th, where Jill had come over, stripped my membranes, realized that I was a good 6-7 cm dilated and wanted to stick around as my contractions took off, both of us fully expecting your arrival in a short amount of time.
By the time Abby arrived, I was well on my way, with my contractions strong and long and relatively uncomfortable.
My mom had also come by--pre-membrane stripping, we'd invited her for dinner.
So while I labored upstairs, Daddy and all of the kids plus Memaw rushed through their meals.
The plan was that Memaw would take the small ones, leaving the boys behind to witness your arrival, and then she would bring them back as soon as we called with your news.
It was only sometime in the 5 to 6:00 hour at this point and honestly, I think we all thought we'd have a baby within the next hour or so.
I labored in bed for a bit, waiting for Daddy to come up and for the Littles to leave and for things to really pick up for me.
In hindsight, I should have known it was too easy.
Because it was.
Though I had to breathe through the contractions with concentration, would go completely still and silent when working through one, I just should have known.
(Hindsight is always 20/20, as they say. But the very next morning, when I stepped into the shower and was slammed with my first REAL contraction, I knew the difference immediately.)
The weirdest thing about this round of false labor, and this is my personal belief of what it was, was that for all intents and purposes, my body really portrayed signs of impending birth.
I fully dilated at some point and fully effaced.
This is just beyond bizarre to me--I had no idea this could happen during false labor.
But it is a condition that DOES exist as Abby showed me the box she checked on some sort of official paperwork after the fact but it's rare.
Wouldn't you just know it :)
Anyway, when I was fully dilated and effaced, (I did truly reach 10cm) Abby and Jill said I could start pushing.
Again, I should have known something wasn't quite right because though my body acted ready for birth, I never felt that urge to push.
And I can honestly say, having now gone through natural labor, that that urge is the strongest of urges I've ever felt.
There's hunger and thirst and human contact...and pushing.
Those are the true basic urges that exist, if you ask me.
So I never felt that.
But I pushed anyway.
I moved from our bed and labored standing which actually felt much better.
And I pushed in this position for awhile, with everyone there, the boys included.
It was far more awkward than I had anticipated but that was because I wasn't so far gone in pain.
As opposed to real labor, where the whole entire free world could see my goodies and I wouldn't bat an eye, so focused on dealing with my own private pain-consumed hell, here there started to be lulls in my contractions which left us all sort of waiting...and staring at my mostly naked self.
It just didn't feel right to me and I was growing uncomfortable with my audience and I could tell Abby in particular was growing concerned with my lack of progress,
I think we all started to suspect that something was amiss at about the same time.
Time slipped away from me.
I looked at the clock and couldn't believe so much time had passed.
At this point, we'd been "pushing" for over an hour.
I was exhausted and getting frustrated.
What was going on?
I never dreamed it would have taken me more than ten minutes to actually push you into the world.
(In reality, it took me about a minute--one contraction, two pushes.)
At some point, Jill decided to check me internally while I was pushing.
I was still standing beside the bed so she reached up during the next contraction and then she yelled, "STOP!"
Stop?
"When you started pushing, your cervix closed back up."
This was not good.
This basically meant that I couldn't get you out, no matter how hard I tried.
It meant that if I continued pushing, you would bruise my cervix and then I'd be in real trouble.
It meant that we had to stop and this was bad because now we'd really messed around up near you and the risk of infection for both of us just went soaring.
It meant that if things did not change fast, that we were going to be going to the hospital.
So we stopped.
Whereas before this was this buildup of excitement as my contractions had picked up, now there was a heaviness in the room.
I know we were all thinking the same thing and it was this: something was just not right.
Not at all.
We backpedaled majorly.
The boys left the room as the adults talked.
Going to the hospital was definitely mentioned by the midwives but I hadn't given up yet.
"How much time will you give me?" I wanted to know.
I was still hopeful that things would pick back up but really, I knew they wouldn't.
I had already started to suspect that we were done for the night.
d AnI felt like my body was betraying me.
"If nothing happens by morning," they said.
We decided that we'd take a break.
Charlie and I would go for a walk and see if we couldn't get my contractions to pick back up.
I know this is a method that works a lot of times for laboring women but this was just so far off from what I knew.
I've never had to convince my body into labor before.
Normally I'm given notice, the kind I needed "five minutes ago."
Normally I go straight from being fine one minute to intense labor in just a handful.
We walked but my spirits were down, down, down.
During the time we were out there, I would have some good, strong contractions but not as strong as what I was having earlier or what I remembered needing in order to bring you out.
We probably walked for 45 minutes or so and on our second round, we saw Abby come out of the house and walk down to the sidewalk to meet us.
She wanted to talk to me.
As it turned out, Abby was starting to wonder if there wasn't some mental stuff going on with me.
Maybe was I deep down worried about this home birth? Too scared of a natural labor?
Or was it more rooted than that...perhaps was I worried about your birth because I was conflicted about how I'd care for another in addition to all that I already do?
"We're a lot alike, " I remember her saying, "I like to be very in control, too."
But I was certain then and am absolutely certain now that it wasn't some sort of mental block--this stalling of my labor.
I hadn't yet clued in that it was necessarily a trip of false labor---instead I started to worry that something wasn't working right physically.
There's definitely merit found in each of her inquiries but there's also nothing but truth in my response.
It was not mental.
It was, what I firmly believe, my typical round of false labor which has always occurred in the hours following an internal exam.
Nothing less and nothing more.
It was probably around 10:30-11:00pm at this point and I knew we were giving up.
Labor shouldn't be a forced thing, it never has been in the past for me, and I could tell that I was pushing an issue that wasn't to be pushed.
We went inside and talked to the midwives.
We all agreed to take a break and to see how we felt in a few hours.
I never left my bedroom after that so I had no idea that they both ended up sleeping on the couch.
I was a totally exhausted woman by that point, beaten so bad physically and emotionally.
I wanted time alone and so I took a hot shower.
My contractions totally subsided.
When I came out I was so tired, I could barely speak nor keep my eyes open.
Daddy was tired too--at some point, he came to bed and fell right to sleep.
And though I was exhausted, I did not sleep much or well.
We'd just that day placed a light in the pool off our deck and it glowed eerily all night long, disturbing my sleep.
I'd forgotten as well that we'd turned off the fan and opened the deck door to warm up the bedroom for your arrival and everything was still this way.
The room was hot and strangely illuminated.
I tossed and turned and woke hourly.
This was to be the only time during the whole birthing experience that I truly worried about your well-being.
I was very concerned that you had become stressed during that whole laboring ordeal and I kept poking you throughout the night.
I also knew that I no longer could justify staying home any longer.
Deep down, I was not comfortable.
I hated imagining what the next day would bring for me except for this one thing: I knew for sure that you would be in my arms by the end of it.
I imagined an uncomfortable but uneventful check-in, a "typical for me" easy, fast delivery, and a sweet baby to hold finally.
Little did I know that you surely were to be in my arms hours later but that was the only thing I was right about.
***I'm going to switch these posts over to birth entries for the next little while so I can make sure to get this down for you. It's taken me FAR too long to get this much out and it's because I tried to do it all in one entry.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
You--Seven Weeks, Six Days
You seem so very big to me these days and yet, I'll take you out in public and you will stop pedestrian traffic with your cuteness.
"Ooooohhh, a NEW one!"
People love to say that.
And then, "How old is she?"
You're never mistaken for a boy which is interesting to me.
Both Chas and Rhyse, regardless of how I dressed them, were always thought to be girls to strangers.
It used to drive me crazy.
My response to "How old is she?" is now somehow...two months.
Two beautiful months.
I can't believe it.
You could not have made the adjustment any easier for your family and it's evident to me even now as I zoom around town, running errands easily (relatively speaking--nothing is easy these days), and just feeling comfortable with you in the mix out and about.
I remember with Creux that it was only about this time that I ventured out alone with him.
Unlike you, I never knew what he was going to do--whether we'd get in the middle of grocery shopping and he'd flip out or if he'd sleep peacefully the whole time.
It always seemed like the former would happen, even at home, so I was terrified to take him out publicly on my own.
Even with Greer, I just really felt my child load.
She was a wonderful baby like you but I was outnumbered for the first time and I was a little spooked about that.
At the same time, I've been through Creux and I can honestly say that I don't think it would ever be harder than what it was.
Each child changes you in a way and where Rhyse cracked my composure, my "everything needs to be perfect" way of thinking, Creux took it and ground it into the road, stomping and spitting on anything I had left.
The thing about being beaten down like that is when you get back up, you're just better able to cope in general.
So I think my tolerance of slightly hard situations (like running errands with a 5 and 2 year-old and a feeding-on-demand infant) has improved just due to life experience.
Creux did us all a favor.
As it turns out, I can be down but never out.
I didn't know that before.
You have wrapped this entire household right around your itty bitty finger.
Me, I was a goner when the stick said "pregnant" but it's sweet to see how much your daddy has fallen in love with you.
He's very, very hands-on and he always has been.
He loves babies.
But he's definitely just a bit sweeter with his girls and it's touching to watch.
He scoops you up, tells you that you're the most beautiful baby in the whole world, lets you scream at him when I'm getting ready for bed and never takes it personally :)
Chas is the same way--he may be a 13 year-old boy but he's a baby lover to the end.
He's always up for helping out with you and will hold you so that I can jump in the shower or make lunch or just...DO something for myself for three minutes.
My favorite is when he's totally engrossed in playing some online game (the boys and their games, I tell you...) and your snug right there in his lap, hooked in his arm.
Rhyse loves you rough, doesn't he?
He too asks for time with you but he still makes me a bit nervous. He's probably who you will find either the most fun or most terrifying brother, depending on your level of "HOLY CRAP!"ness.
But he's the first to say, "I'll go talk to her!" when we hear you start to fuss on the monitor.
And he does take good care of you.
He just thinks you're two is all :)
Greer and Creux spend the most time with you because they spend the most time with me.
I can't remember if I wrote about it here or on Lifelines but her first reaction to you surprised me to my core.
When we walked in from the hospital, she was napping but she came down soon after we arrived.
And I was so excited for her to meet you--she'd wanted a sister so badly and had insisted that the baby in my tummy was a girl all along.
But she totally snubbed you!
She came down and we held you out and she eyed you cooly, briefly, and then said something about going to play and she walked away.
Certainly I'd heard about new baby jealousy and/or ambivalance yet I just was surprised that it hit her like that.
She did come around pretty quickly though and she's never looked back since.
"She'll be your best friend," I keep telling her when she sits with us in bed.
Because I hope so much for this to be true.
She loves you something fierce these days and is always helping me pack away clothes and shoes that don't fit her anymore.
"These are for Luxie," she'll say.
Me, I just shrink back in horror to think of you, my tiny baby up in bed, being four and fitting into this stuff.
I totally need to get a grip, don't I?
I know, I know.
Creux, look, there's no telling what he'd do if he was left to take care of you for awhile but he manages pretty well honestly.
His hands always play over your head and they're just so BIG compared to you and boy are they dirty.
(ALWAYS dirty.)
"Wuxie," is what he says.
But he loves you mad, he's always kissing your head and smelling you.
We all smell you.
It's the weirdest, most primal thing.
You really have no scent but your own.
And it's addictive.
I'd know you from a bazillion babies in a heartbeat just from smell alone.
New with you:
You're slowly moving into 3-6 month sized clothes and I'm packing away some of the newborn stuff.
You're never swaddled anymore which I HATE because I just love a bundled little sack of baby but you're too long and you move far too much.
I've been giving you baths lately and it's heartbreakingly sweet. You are so tiny sopping wet and just as vunerable as can be. You never cry. You just stare up at me trustingly.
Your hair is growing longer and starting to fill in. It's still standing straight up on top but looks less bizarre now that it sort of seems like it'll just be curly. It's really curly when wet. Adorable.
The swing has become an acceptable place for you (so says you) and now I'm able to get some free time in the evenings. I'm not nursing you for that three hour, 10-1, period at night anymore. I'll nurse you, Daddy will usually take you and plop you in the swing for a nap, I'll spend some time putting your siblings to bed, cleaning up, blogging a bit and then I come back for you. We'll head up to bed and at this time I DO wake you even though I still hate to. But I didn't one night and you woke me up two hours after I fell asleep and that was horrid so now, we do a fresh diaper and a big fill-up while I watch a quick tv show and then...zzzzzz.
You're still sleeping like a champ. I am forever indebted to you for all the sleep you've allowed me to collect in these early days. I'm still tired but more from my lifestyle (5 kids, homeschooling, activity-hauling out the wazoo) than from having a newborn.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I will try to remember this when you dye your hair pink at the age of 16 and I am tempted to handcuff you to the kitchen table.
You have amazing head control and you keep rolling from your side to your belly.
I hope this is not indicative of things to come because I really don't want you walking at six months of age.
What is WITH all of my kids being gross-motor advanced?
Your brother Creux just started riding a two wheeler.
He's TWO.
I feel like I should call the Guinness people or something.
I found a sling that I love and you're always in it.
The only bad thing is that it keeps you snug and close to your favorite, um, things on my body so you spend ten minutes rooting around in the right area and totally drooling all over the place before calming down and just hanging out.
But it feels so good to strap you on. It feels good for many reasons but mainly because I love being so close to you and I know that you love being so close to me.
You look for me these days. If I'm speaking, you'll turn in my direction and try to find me. It's SUPER sweet. And of course, I can't help but snatch you back from whoever had you and walk off kissing, kissing, kissing you.
You talk back now, cooing slightly at me when I talk to you.
Combined with those big smiles, I just know we're close to a giggle.
Our crazy life has picked up and you're on the go far more than I'd like for you to be but it can't be helped.
School has resumed, soccer's in full force, your siblings have tons going on and so I'm dragging you from the nest a lot these days.
I HATE waking you from a good nap.
I sit and try to think of ways around it, knowing that I can't but trying anyway, before gently pulling you from your sleep.
You're pretty good about this, too.
You could rage and it would be well-deserved but you don't.
You're pretty perfect, Luxie.
I love you crazy. Really and truly crazy.
I'd do anything for you, including getting off this blog so that I can go up and snuggle with you as I can hear you stirring on the monitor.
Rhyse just went up to hold you off.
"Mom? Want me to go talk to her?"
I told you.
You're a lucky girl.
You are so loved.
Love,
Mama
"Ooooohhh, a NEW one!"
People love to say that.
And then, "How old is she?"
You're never mistaken for a boy which is interesting to me.
Both Chas and Rhyse, regardless of how I dressed them, were always thought to be girls to strangers.
It used to drive me crazy.
My response to "How old is she?" is now somehow...two months.
Two beautiful months.
I can't believe it.
You could not have made the adjustment any easier for your family and it's evident to me even now as I zoom around town, running errands easily (relatively speaking--nothing is easy these days), and just feeling comfortable with you in the mix out and about.
I remember with Creux that it was only about this time that I ventured out alone with him.
Unlike you, I never knew what he was going to do--whether we'd get in the middle of grocery shopping and he'd flip out or if he'd sleep peacefully the whole time.
It always seemed like the former would happen, even at home, so I was terrified to take him out publicly on my own.
Even with Greer, I just really felt my child load.
She was a wonderful baby like you but I was outnumbered for the first time and I was a little spooked about that.
At the same time, I've been through Creux and I can honestly say that I don't think it would ever be harder than what it was.
Each child changes you in a way and where Rhyse cracked my composure, my "everything needs to be perfect" way of thinking, Creux took it and ground it into the road, stomping and spitting on anything I had left.
The thing about being beaten down like that is when you get back up, you're just better able to cope in general.
So I think my tolerance of slightly hard situations (like running errands with a 5 and 2 year-old and a feeding-on-demand infant) has improved just due to life experience.
Creux did us all a favor.
As it turns out, I can be down but never out.
I didn't know that before.
You have wrapped this entire household right around your itty bitty finger.
Me, I was a goner when the stick said "pregnant" but it's sweet to see how much your daddy has fallen in love with you.
He's very, very hands-on and he always has been.
He loves babies.
But he's definitely just a bit sweeter with his girls and it's touching to watch.
He scoops you up, tells you that you're the most beautiful baby in the whole world, lets you scream at him when I'm getting ready for bed and never takes it personally :)
Chas is the same way--he may be a 13 year-old boy but he's a baby lover to the end.
He's always up for helping out with you and will hold you so that I can jump in the shower or make lunch or just...DO something for myself for three minutes.
My favorite is when he's totally engrossed in playing some online game (the boys and their games, I tell you...) and your snug right there in his lap, hooked in his arm.
Rhyse loves you rough, doesn't he?
He too asks for time with you but he still makes me a bit nervous. He's probably who you will find either the most fun or most terrifying brother, depending on your level of "HOLY CRAP!"ness.
But he's the first to say, "I'll go talk to her!" when we hear you start to fuss on the monitor.
And he does take good care of you.
He just thinks you're two is all :)
Greer and Creux spend the most time with you because they spend the most time with me.
I can't remember if I wrote about it here or on Lifelines but her first reaction to you surprised me to my core.
When we walked in from the hospital, she was napping but she came down soon after we arrived.
And I was so excited for her to meet you--she'd wanted a sister so badly and had insisted that the baby in my tummy was a girl all along.
But she totally snubbed you!
She came down and we held you out and she eyed you cooly, briefly, and then said something about going to play and she walked away.
Certainly I'd heard about new baby jealousy and/or ambivalance yet I just was surprised that it hit her like that.
She did come around pretty quickly though and she's never looked back since.
"She'll be your best friend," I keep telling her when she sits with us in bed.
Because I hope so much for this to be true.
She loves you something fierce these days and is always helping me pack away clothes and shoes that don't fit her anymore.
"These are for Luxie," she'll say.
Me, I just shrink back in horror to think of you, my tiny baby up in bed, being four and fitting into this stuff.
I totally need to get a grip, don't I?
I know, I know.
Creux, look, there's no telling what he'd do if he was left to take care of you for awhile but he manages pretty well honestly.
His hands always play over your head and they're just so BIG compared to you and boy are they dirty.
(ALWAYS dirty.)
"Wuxie," is what he says.
But he loves you mad, he's always kissing your head and smelling you.
We all smell you.
It's the weirdest, most primal thing.
You really have no scent but your own.
And it's addictive.
I'd know you from a bazillion babies in a heartbeat just from smell alone.
New with you:
You're slowly moving into 3-6 month sized clothes and I'm packing away some of the newborn stuff.
You're never swaddled anymore which I HATE because I just love a bundled little sack of baby but you're too long and you move far too much.
I've been giving you baths lately and it's heartbreakingly sweet. You are so tiny sopping wet and just as vunerable as can be. You never cry. You just stare up at me trustingly.
Your hair is growing longer and starting to fill in. It's still standing straight up on top but looks less bizarre now that it sort of seems like it'll just be curly. It's really curly when wet. Adorable.
The swing has become an acceptable place for you (so says you) and now I'm able to get some free time in the evenings. I'm not nursing you for that three hour, 10-1, period at night anymore. I'll nurse you, Daddy will usually take you and plop you in the swing for a nap, I'll spend some time putting your siblings to bed, cleaning up, blogging a bit and then I come back for you. We'll head up to bed and at this time I DO wake you even though I still hate to. But I didn't one night and you woke me up two hours after I fell asleep and that was horrid so now, we do a fresh diaper and a big fill-up while I watch a quick tv show and then...zzzzzz.
You're still sleeping like a champ. I am forever indebted to you for all the sleep you've allowed me to collect in these early days. I'm still tired but more from my lifestyle (5 kids, homeschooling, activity-hauling out the wazoo) than from having a newborn.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I will try to remember this when you dye your hair pink at the age of 16 and I am tempted to handcuff you to the kitchen table.
You have amazing head control and you keep rolling from your side to your belly.
I hope this is not indicative of things to come because I really don't want you walking at six months of age.
What is WITH all of my kids being gross-motor advanced?
Your brother Creux just started riding a two wheeler.
He's TWO.
I feel like I should call the Guinness people or something.
I found a sling that I love and you're always in it.
The only bad thing is that it keeps you snug and close to your favorite, um, things on my body so you spend ten minutes rooting around in the right area and totally drooling all over the place before calming down and just hanging out.
But it feels so good to strap you on. It feels good for many reasons but mainly because I love being so close to you and I know that you love being so close to me.
You look for me these days. If I'm speaking, you'll turn in my direction and try to find me. It's SUPER sweet. And of course, I can't help but snatch you back from whoever had you and walk off kissing, kissing, kissing you.
You talk back now, cooing slightly at me when I talk to you.
Combined with those big smiles, I just know we're close to a giggle.
Our crazy life has picked up and you're on the go far more than I'd like for you to be but it can't be helped.
School has resumed, soccer's in full force, your siblings have tons going on and so I'm dragging you from the nest a lot these days.
I HATE waking you from a good nap.
I sit and try to think of ways around it, knowing that I can't but trying anyway, before gently pulling you from your sleep.
You're pretty good about this, too.
You could rage and it would be well-deserved but you don't.
You're pretty perfect, Luxie.
I love you crazy. Really and truly crazy.
I'd do anything for you, including getting off this blog so that I can go up and snuggle with you as I can hear you stirring on the monitor.
Rhyse just went up to hold you off.
"Mom? Want me to go talk to her?"
I told you.
You're a lucky girl.
You are so loved.
Love,
Mama
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