So today I was actually excited, I even did my hair and makeup. My three year old had his three year check up and then my mom and I were going to take the kids to the Sea Life Aquarium and then let them play in the middle of the mall at the kids play area, followed by lunch at Rainforest Cafe. Well, on the way to the dr my three year old got sick. And I mean really sick. So I had to take his jacket off before we went into the dr office. When we got in the office they gave me a bucket and a bag for his clothes. They called us right back and the nurse helped me to clean him off. I had an extra pair of paints for him but not an extra shirt. Now mind you we live in Michigan and its like 27 outside so he cannot go outside with nothing on. I ended up giving him my sweater (which was brand new and almost down to his toes) and I wore my jacket zipped all the way up so no one could see all I had on was my bra. Yup, God was laughing...
We went to my moms house which was less than a mile down the road and she had backup tops for him along with a hoodie. I cleaned out his car seat for about 30 minutes which was enough to make it rideable but it still needs to be taken apart and washed in the washing machine.
Then we went out to lunch. He drank a little bit of juice while my 1 year old, myself, and mom ate our lunch. We even met a nice police officer who stopped to talk to the boys.
So that was my morning.....I hope everyone else had a better one, but Im still smiling today.
Friday, March 4, 2016
Thursday, March 3, 2016
A little bit about me.....the PPD side
So I want to explain a few things that will help you understand me and the different things I'm talking about.
First off, my disabled sister lives with my husband, two boys (age 1 and 3), two dogs, and one cat. She is 24 years old and has Cerebral Palsy as well as severe mental retardation. She is 24 but functions like a 6 month old. She requires 24/7 care as far as transferring, feeding, diapering, and she is wheelchair bound. She cannot talk either. Currently she goes to school Monday-Friday from 8:30am to 3:15pm. During the summer it is less but she also goes to a sleep away camp for one week. It is the only week all year that we as a family are free to do as we choose, at all other times someone must be here with her or we have to take her with us. She has a caregiver that comes for 8 hours each Saturday and Sunday but right now our current caregiver is out after having foot surgery. Growing up I had always said that I wanted her to live with us, but I can say now that I don't think I understood the full ramification of what I was saying. Having her live with us allows me to stay at home with my boys but its a full time job that requires a lot of patients, some of which I don't always have.
I had PPD with our first son. I was irrational and moody. I think it got better when I went back to work around 8 weeks but I cannot say for sure. I remember a terrible fight DH (dear husband) and I got into shortly after D was born about him buying a motorcycle. I don't really remember the fight but I remember screaming and being so mad I was ready to divorce him (that seems patently absurd to me now).
I tried to breastfeed both times with little success...its really hard and they don't tell you that. That made me feel like I was failing both times. I mean they make it seem so easy in the classes and on TV but its really not that easy, at least it wasn't for me. It wasn't until a phone call from a friend the first time around (about 3 weeks PP) who told me that it was ok if I couldn't do it. That she made it 6 weeks and when she decided to stop it made her and her baby a lot happier (happy mommy happy baby).
I was terrified about PPD with my second son, but I had no clue what I was about to be in for.......
First off, my disabled sister lives with my husband, two boys (age 1 and 3), two dogs, and one cat. She is 24 years old and has Cerebral Palsy as well as severe mental retardation. She is 24 but functions like a 6 month old. She requires 24/7 care as far as transferring, feeding, diapering, and she is wheelchair bound. She cannot talk either. Currently she goes to school Monday-Friday from 8:30am to 3:15pm. During the summer it is less but she also goes to a sleep away camp for one week. It is the only week all year that we as a family are free to do as we choose, at all other times someone must be here with her or we have to take her with us. She has a caregiver that comes for 8 hours each Saturday and Sunday but right now our current caregiver is out after having foot surgery. Growing up I had always said that I wanted her to live with us, but I can say now that I don't think I understood the full ramification of what I was saying. Having her live with us allows me to stay at home with my boys but its a full time job that requires a lot of patients, some of which I don't always have.
I had PPD with our first son. I was irrational and moody. I think it got better when I went back to work around 8 weeks but I cannot say for sure. I remember a terrible fight DH (dear husband) and I got into shortly after D was born about him buying a motorcycle. I don't really remember the fight but I remember screaming and being so mad I was ready to divorce him (that seems patently absurd to me now).
I tried to breastfeed both times with little success...its really hard and they don't tell you that. That made me feel like I was failing both times. I mean they make it seem so easy in the classes and on TV but its really not that easy, at least it wasn't for me. It wasn't until a phone call from a friend the first time around (about 3 weeks PP) who told me that it was ok if I couldn't do it. That she made it 6 weeks and when she decided to stop it made her and her baby a lot happier (happy mommy happy baby).
I was terrified about PPD with my second son, but I had no clue what I was about to be in for.......
Hating My New Life
I woke up on May 10th and it was Mothers Day, a day that is always hard for me as I only get to celebrate with two of my three kids. My husband wasn't feeling well that day so he stayed home and I took my two boys to my moms house to celebrate with my parents and my in-laws. I went there and had fun for a little while. We opened presents and I basked in the knowledge that I had two other moms there to help me with my boys.
When we got home a few hours later it was time to feed the boys and get them ready for bed. With my husband down for the count this is no small task. Our two year old has speech delays so trying to communicate with him is hard (though its gotten much better over the past year with speech therapy through the school district). Plus, he is the pickiest eater ever. When he's throwing a tantrum and I can't help him because I don't know what he wants I just want to cry, I feel like Im failing him. After a nighttime bottle for the little one and dinner that consisted of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the 2 year old I got them in their jammies and put them to bed. My two year old had an "I don't want to brush my teeth," tantrum and I tried to explain why we brush our teeth but in the end he won and I was crying feeling like I failed him......
The next morning, Monday May 11th, was my first day as a SAHM/work from home mom and all I wanted to do was cry. In fact I did cry most of the day......
When we got home a few hours later it was time to feed the boys and get them ready for bed. With my husband down for the count this is no small task. Our two year old has speech delays so trying to communicate with him is hard (though its gotten much better over the past year with speech therapy through the school district). Plus, he is the pickiest eater ever. When he's throwing a tantrum and I can't help him because I don't know what he wants I just want to cry, I feel like Im failing him. After a nighttime bottle for the little one and dinner that consisted of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the 2 year old I got them in their jammies and put them to bed. My two year old had an "I don't want to brush my teeth," tantrum and I tried to explain why we brush our teeth but in the end he won and I was crying feeling like I failed him......
The next morning, Monday May 11th, was my first day as a SAHM/work from home mom and all I wanted to do was cry. In fact I did cry most of the day......
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
Life and Changes.....
While this blog started out as an infertility and loss blog, as time goes on Ive changed. Infertility and loss are still a part of my life, as I assume they will be forever, but now as the mother of a 3 year old boy and a one year old boy, Ive found my life has changed and not always for the better.
In May of 2015, when our newest edition was not even 3 months old yet, my husband was given a great opportunity to work for a company he used to work for. That meant I had to quit my job that Id had for 10.5 years to stay home with my two boys and my disabled sister. So Im kinda like a Stay At Home Mom/work from home mom because my job is to take care of my disabled sister as well as the kids and the house. Ill be honest, my husband did this for 2 years and I didn't realize how hard it actually is.
My last day of work I was a mess. I really liked my job but I was looking forward to staying home with my boys. I said all my goodbyes, and they even gave me a cake and a card, and I made it all the way to my car before I broke down and cried the whole way home. For over ten years that had been my identity and now it was changing.
I didn't know it at the time, but along with the change I was experiencing some serious postpartum depression. All of a sudden I hated my life........
As I continue each day in writing it is my hope that I can help someone who is going through the same things I am...........
In May of 2015, when our newest edition was not even 3 months old yet, my husband was given a great opportunity to work for a company he used to work for. That meant I had to quit my job that Id had for 10.5 years to stay home with my two boys and my disabled sister. So Im kinda like a Stay At Home Mom/work from home mom because my job is to take care of my disabled sister as well as the kids and the house. Ill be honest, my husband did this for 2 years and I didn't realize how hard it actually is.
My last day of work I was a mess. I really liked my job but I was looking forward to staying home with my boys. I said all my goodbyes, and they even gave me a cake and a card, and I made it all the way to my car before I broke down and cried the whole way home. For over ten years that had been my identity and now it was changing.
I didn't know it at the time, but along with the change I was experiencing some serious postpartum depression. All of a sudden I hated my life........
As I continue each day in writing it is my hope that I can help someone who is going through the same things I am...........
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Birth Defects Prevention Month
I read somewhere the other day that January is National Birth Defects Prevention Month. While I had not heard that before, it fits perfectly with the post that I was looking to write today....
2 years ago tomorrow (January 19th) I heard the words no parent wants to hear, "Im sorry, your baby is sick." I will never forget those words as long as I live. Nor will I forget the look on the nurse practitioners face as she broke the news. She looked as sick to her stomach as I felt. I remember the white walls of the tiny office that we were in appeared to be closing in on me. I remember the feeling of wanting to run away from that room as fast as possible while screaming. I was screaming on the inside but I couldn't utter a sound on the outside. I remember holding my husband and sobbing. I remember waiting for what seemed like forever while the nurse made us an appointment for later that day at the high risk department at U of M. I remember calling my mom and telling her that there was a problem with the baby. I remember just wanting my husband to hold me. I remember calling my in-laws and telling them there was a problem with the baby. I remember calling my work and telling them that I wouldn't be there for the next few days. I remember the tone in my bosses voice when he told me to take all the time I needed. I remember my husband driving us from one hospital to another while I sobbed. I remember calling my insurance company to make sure than any tests the new hospital wanted to run would be covered. I remember getting to the new hospital and wanting my mom. I remember my mom taking forever to get there...and then when she called me and said she was there but couldn't find the 9th floor. The reason she couldn't find the 9th floor was because in all of my haste when I called her I forgot to tell her that we were at a different hospital. I remember the look on my mothers face when she finally got to the right hospital. She knew exactly how I felt because she had stood in my same shoes just 20 years earlier with my little sister. I remember the hour long ultrasound that the new hospital did. I remember watching my baby on the ultrasound machine hoping that it wasn't the last time I'd see her. I remember the giant needle they stuck in my stomach when they ran the amniocenteses. I remember hearing the doctor explain to me what Dandy Walker Syndrome was. I remember the nurse telling me I had until I was 24 weeks to "terminate". I remember leaving the hospital and trying to find a place to eat with everyone. I remember almost getting into 3 accidents on the way and eventually giving up on food. I remember crying myself to sleep in my husbands arms that night.
I remember the 5 weeks of pure hell that followed. I will never forget 2/23/12 when the nurse told me that she, "had to go get the doctor because there was no heartbeat."
I remember our baby...Bristol Grace. And I love her!!!
2 years ago tomorrow (January 19th) I heard the words no parent wants to hear, "Im sorry, your baby is sick." I will never forget those words as long as I live. Nor will I forget the look on the nurse practitioners face as she broke the news. She looked as sick to her stomach as I felt. I remember the white walls of the tiny office that we were in appeared to be closing in on me. I remember the feeling of wanting to run away from that room as fast as possible while screaming. I was screaming on the inside but I couldn't utter a sound on the outside. I remember holding my husband and sobbing. I remember waiting for what seemed like forever while the nurse made us an appointment for later that day at the high risk department at U of M. I remember calling my mom and telling her that there was a problem with the baby. I remember just wanting my husband to hold me. I remember calling my in-laws and telling them there was a problem with the baby. I remember calling my work and telling them that I wouldn't be there for the next few days. I remember the tone in my bosses voice when he told me to take all the time I needed. I remember my husband driving us from one hospital to another while I sobbed. I remember calling my insurance company to make sure than any tests the new hospital wanted to run would be covered. I remember getting to the new hospital and wanting my mom. I remember my mom taking forever to get there...and then when she called me and said she was there but couldn't find the 9th floor. The reason she couldn't find the 9th floor was because in all of my haste when I called her I forgot to tell her that we were at a different hospital. I remember the look on my mothers face when she finally got to the right hospital. She knew exactly how I felt because she had stood in my same shoes just 20 years earlier with my little sister. I remember the hour long ultrasound that the new hospital did. I remember watching my baby on the ultrasound machine hoping that it wasn't the last time I'd see her. I remember the giant needle they stuck in my stomach when they ran the amniocenteses. I remember hearing the doctor explain to me what Dandy Walker Syndrome was. I remember the nurse telling me I had until I was 24 weeks to "terminate". I remember leaving the hospital and trying to find a place to eat with everyone. I remember almost getting into 3 accidents on the way and eventually giving up on food. I remember crying myself to sleep in my husbands arms that night.
I remember the 5 weeks of pure hell that followed. I will never forget 2/23/12 when the nurse told me that she, "had to go get the doctor because there was no heartbeat."
I remember our baby...Bristol Grace. And I love her!!!
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Working retail....the good stuff
So I may have mentioned before, but I work at a retail store. Half of my job is spent doing back office stuff and the other half is spent working the registers. Well, one of the hard parts about working the registers while I was pregnant with D was the number of customers who wanted to talk about my pregnancy. Its not that I didn't want to talk about it, but I was such a nervous mess and most people just didn't get that. I dreaded the, "is this your first child" question. Well, over the course of my pregnancy I met a few nice ladies who asked about my pregnancy and then listened when I talked. The other day one of the customers whom I had spoken with when I was about 8 months pregnant with D came back into the store. She told me that my story had touched her and that when she left that day she said a prayer for me. She also told me that when she went to church the next time she asked her fellow church goers to pray for me as well. She said I was on the prayer list at church for several months. She asked about D and I showed her photos. She told me that she and her husband were never able to have children (not for a lack of trying) and that she was always sad about that. That made me sad...she said that her husband had been gone for a few years now and she missed him dearly. We talked for a few more minutes (we were REALLY SLOW so there were no other customers in line) and then she was on her way. Before she left she told me that my story had touched her personally and that she will continue to pray for me and my family. I thanked her profusely and told her that I hoped to see her again soon......
And after a crazy retail holiday season my faith in humanity has been restored!!!!
And after a crazy retail holiday season my faith in humanity has been restored!!!!
Friday, December 13, 2013
PTSD???
Ive heard it said that people who experience loss in their lives can suffer from PTSD....not the kind that people who have been to war suffer from...but a different kind. And sometimes I wonder if I do too...
I'm not trying to diminish any ones loss, but I think the loss of a child is the worst. I mean from the moment I've been able to actually understand death Ive always accepted that my parents will die before me. My dad always used to tell me that I will never understand the love of a child until I have my own. When we finally got pregnant with Bristol my dad told me that now I will understand the love he has for me. And then when we lost her.....my whole world crashed. I know she was only 26 weeks but she was formed perfectly, all the way down to her tiny fingers and toes. To hold my lifeless body in my arms and know that there was nothing I could do...well, Ive never felt so helpless in my entire life.
And I am not the same person I was before her....I cry at everything. From commercials on TV about a cancer drug, or ads for the nearest children's hospital, hell even songs make me cry. We have a close family friend that my parents have known for years and the dad in that family has stage 4 cancer that has spread to his bones and everywhere in his body. This will be his last Christmas. When we were putting up our Christmas tree I couldn't help but cry.....I was thinking that this is the last Christmas that he will ever have....the last time he will see a tree put up....the last time his daughters will hug him on Christmas. I never thought about things like that before.
And as I'm getting excited for D's first Christmas I can't help but feel sad over my little one who isn't with us. And then I feel guilty for being excited....
Tomorrow is the first anniversary of the shooting at the elementary school in Newtown CT. I cannot imagine being their parents. Just thinking about it makes me cry. It also makes me think how, in an instant, life can change forever. I cannot imagine kissing your kid(s) goodbye and never seeing them again. But then again that happens all the time....
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