I'm at a loss for this tired feeling. Was I this tired with Patrick? Was I exhausted? Was work this hard to return to? Cecilia isn't the best sleeper, I'm racking my brain to recall if Patrick had this much trouble at this age... I just can't remember. Last night she was back to her up every 2-3 hours gig... gassy, fussy and fighting to get out of her swaddle. Joc and I switched back and forth so that was helpful but man... waking up that often is hard. If you haven't experienced this, you should count yourself lucky. (And you are most likely child free since all infants wake up this frequently to eat... and if yours doesn't I really really don't want to hear about it.) During maternity leave I didn't really have to function but now that I'm back to work I have to be able to form thoughts and emails and rational thought... being awake that much feels like I worked the night shift...
Please don't tell me it'll get better (I do know it will), that's not what I want with this post. Please don't tell me all babies go through this or to cherish the hours I spend rocking and nursing the little lady all night. I'm not looking for positive thoughts or well wishes... of course it won't last forever. It's just hard in the moment. I just need to work out my thoughts of why... and why do I need to know? why can't C tell me what is wrong? why won't she fall asleep and stay asleep when she's laid down in her crib, especially at daycare? Why doesn't it matter how long I rock her as she's sleeping, she wakes herself up after I lay her down?
BA!
It adds to my worry too.
Cecilia hasn't been a good daycare napper either... but then again, those are the nights C will sleep for 6-7 hours straight. So, do I keep her awake all day in order to have 7 solid hours of sleep? I can't do it friends, babies need sleep, right? Right? Right... right... I'm just not sure.
My poor little gal. I just want her to sleep better, that's all I'm asking. Send positive thoughts or prayers or chants or cheers (I'll take anything!) that Ceci starts putting her sleep cycles together, that she starts self soothing and that she gets rest.... and so do the moms.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Monday, May 13, 2013
Everything changes...
These days, life has become a bit of a foreign world to me. Having children changes everything... did you know that? Most of you do, as you have children.
I had an old friend drop by this weekend, she's an accountant and has multiple homes, toys and a busy work life. She's known me, well we've known each other, since high school. As I played outside with Patrick and chased balls around the yard, she participated in what I would call a very interrupted conversation. I remember having these types of conversations with my friends before I had children. I remember being a little frustrated when what was being said was interrupted by a child, then lost because that interruption took a few minutes to resolve by which time the topic was gone. During my time with my friend, she said a few times, "so this is your life now?" and we laughed and I said, "yeah, having kids changes everything". It wasn't until later that I reflected more on the meaning in that short sentence. It really does change everything.
Oddly enough the next day I had a second reminder, a work friend text me on Sunday saying a group of nurses were meeting up at a local brewery with their SOs (significant others), if we wanted to come down. Another reminder that life is different. Three years ago, not a problem. 6pm? We'll be there. Now, here are the thoughts that rolled through my head: -excellent, I've been meaning to go to the brewery again, -crap, 6pm is a hard time... Patrick needs to eat, bath and bedtime is shortly after that, -can I find someone with 2 hours notice to come over and watch these kids? -do I even have any milk for Cecilia? She hasn't been taking the bottle well... can I feed her before we go down? hmmm... -I could go alone... but then Joc has 2 kids to get ready for bed, dinner and Cecilia cries a lot in the evenings right now. -but man would it be nice to have some adult conversation with some adults other than Joc and i..... hmmm. Guess I better pass.
I guess I'm grieving the loss of freedom, again. I grieved it once with Patrick, thought I was done.
Gone are the days of "let's go out to eat tonight" replaced by, "do we want to try to go out? Who has macaroni and cheese on the menu? Did Patrick nap today? How crazy are we? Let's just stay in, I'm not in the mood."
Gone are the days of, "let's run to the mall and to Target" replaced by, "should we go to Meijer Gardens or the zoo or to the park?"
Gone are the days of, "I'm gonna go to the movies on a random monday afternoon" replaced by playing with Patrick, feeding Cecilia or making dinner or going grocery shopping.
Now, don't get my wrong, I love these kids, I love my life with them and with Joc. I just don't like the hard times (who does?) when Patrick is a terrible 2 year old and looks right at me as I say, "please do not throw your book at your sister" and throws it any way. I don't love being reminded of what we gave up when we had kids. (freedom at all times and autonomy) I remember feeling that my friends had changed and "I would never change". Have I changed? Have I become someone who can't have a decent conversation around my kid because he can't understand yet that it's rude to interrupt all the time? Have I become distracted from my life? Have I become a bad friend?
On the flip side, what I do have is someone I'm shaping into what I hope to be a handsome, caring, compassionate, hilariously funny and smart young man. And now a beautiful, sweet, kind, silly and intelligent young lady. I do have the sweetest hugs and kisses at the most random of times, the best kicker and thrower on the block and the hungriest and neediest infant. I have "I do it" and "noooooo!!" and "sista!" and "no cooper!" and "mama?" and "outside" and "i love you". So really, would I change a thing? Not for a heartbeat. In fact, I'd add another crazy kid to this mix if given the chance. Sure, I miss and long (some days) for those free and independent days, but to have these amazing little people is too much to give up. To see them grow and change before my very eyes... it's miraculous.
I had an old friend drop by this weekend, she's an accountant and has multiple homes, toys and a busy work life. She's known me, well we've known each other, since high school. As I played outside with Patrick and chased balls around the yard, she participated in what I would call a very interrupted conversation. I remember having these types of conversations with my friends before I had children. I remember being a little frustrated when what was being said was interrupted by a child, then lost because that interruption took a few minutes to resolve by which time the topic was gone. During my time with my friend, she said a few times, "so this is your life now?" and we laughed and I said, "yeah, having kids changes everything". It wasn't until later that I reflected more on the meaning in that short sentence. It really does change everything.
Oddly enough the next day I had a second reminder, a work friend text me on Sunday saying a group of nurses were meeting up at a local brewery with their SOs (significant others), if we wanted to come down. Another reminder that life is different. Three years ago, not a problem. 6pm? We'll be there. Now, here are the thoughts that rolled through my head: -excellent, I've been meaning to go to the brewery again, -crap, 6pm is a hard time... Patrick needs to eat, bath and bedtime is shortly after that, -can I find someone with 2 hours notice to come over and watch these kids? -do I even have any milk for Cecilia? She hasn't been taking the bottle well... can I feed her before we go down? hmmm... -I could go alone... but then Joc has 2 kids to get ready for bed, dinner and Cecilia cries a lot in the evenings right now. -but man would it be nice to have some adult conversation with some adults other than Joc and i..... hmmm. Guess I better pass.
I guess I'm grieving the loss of freedom, again. I grieved it once with Patrick, thought I was done.
Gone are the days of "let's go out to eat tonight" replaced by, "do we want to try to go out? Who has macaroni and cheese on the menu? Did Patrick nap today? How crazy are we? Let's just stay in, I'm not in the mood."
Gone are the days of, "let's run to the mall and to Target" replaced by, "should we go to Meijer Gardens or the zoo or to the park?"
Gone are the days of, "I'm gonna go to the movies on a random monday afternoon" replaced by playing with Patrick, feeding Cecilia or making dinner or going grocery shopping.
Now, don't get my wrong, I love these kids, I love my life with them and with Joc. I just don't like the hard times (who does?) when Patrick is a terrible 2 year old and looks right at me as I say, "please do not throw your book at your sister" and throws it any way. I don't love being reminded of what we gave up when we had kids. (freedom at all times and autonomy) I remember feeling that my friends had changed and "I would never change". Have I changed? Have I become someone who can't have a decent conversation around my kid because he can't understand yet that it's rude to interrupt all the time? Have I become distracted from my life? Have I become a bad friend?
On the flip side, what I do have is someone I'm shaping into what I hope to be a handsome, caring, compassionate, hilariously funny and smart young man. And now a beautiful, sweet, kind, silly and intelligent young lady. I do have the sweetest hugs and kisses at the most random of times, the best kicker and thrower on the block and the hungriest and neediest infant. I have "I do it" and "noooooo!!" and "sista!" and "no cooper!" and "mama?" and "outside" and "i love you". So really, would I change a thing? Not for a heartbeat. In fact, I'd add another crazy kid to this mix if given the chance. Sure, I miss and long (some days) for those free and independent days, but to have these amazing little people is too much to give up. To see them grow and change before my very eyes... it's miraculous.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Hormones
The last couple days I feel a bit more on the verge of emotion... it's hard to explain the feeling of irrational emotions. I wax from anger and frustration to irritation to happiness to sadness and even fear. It's really quite annoying for me, but knowing it will improve is usually what helps settle my mind.
Some of my recent examples:
I went shopping at a local shop for new nursing bras, I've been wearing my old ones from nrusing Patrick and they desperately needed replacemnt. The shop I purchased them last time no longer sells bras so I went to a differnt, recommended shop. The women were just trying to hlep me but when the gal asked me my size before having Cecilia and then recommended a size medium, I laughed out loud. Please. I've never been a medium in my life, I told her. Then I said, my cup size is no longer a C. My milk is in, I'm engorged. Can you measure me? Sure, we can measure you but why don't you go try a medium on and we'll go from there. Here's when my boiling point was reached. I'm wearing this exact bra and it's an XL and the cups are barely holding me right now. The same bra? Yes. I'll take your medium but I'll also take the XL so I don't have to make two trips. I was so irritated. Ended up buying the XL bras.. and they never measured me. A second lady even told me (after I asked her to measure me) that "we've been doing this a long time, I can tell you are maybe a D". I tried an E cup on (equivalent to DDD) and filled that out just fine. I left happy I'd gotten new bras but irritated in general. I asked Joc if she could tell I was pissed, she said yes in that "I was afraid you were going to bit the woman's head off if she told you you were a medium again" kind of way. No one lost their head that day, thank goodness.
We've been taking Patrick to daycare since we're still paying the weekly cost to hold his spot, he loves his friends and teachers at daycare, and it's good to keep his routine that he knows. I've struggled with this mentally as I wish he could be home with us and Cecilia but I also know that we'd be even more exhausted if he were here to take care of. Not to mention, Cecilia can't even appreciate him yet, so it really is better if he's at daycare getting that stimuation and not throwing tantrums at home. I have been feeling a lot of guilt over this but he doesn't go in unitl about 9 (7:30 was his old time for drop off when we were working) and we pick him up by 4. With the weather getting nicer (hopefully) we will have more outdoor time with him. He's going to be fine, and probalby won't remember this at all.
There have been a few recent stories posted on facebook about kids who have died. These are really hard on me. Maybe because my brother died young or my dad or because of my hormones but I look at these two beautiful babies given to us and I think about them dying. It scares me to think of that loss. I pray that God wouldn't do that to us, that I've expereinced enough loss in my life that He wouldn't do it but I also know Brian died when he was 15 and my dad two years later... it's possible God would do it. I rationalize with myself and I truly cherish every moment we have with them. I pray we're some of the lucky ones who see their children grow up and succeed and have families and carreers of their own. I don't dwell on it, I think I'm just a little more acutely aware of the possibility of tragedy and loss you could say and I'm realistic that life isn't fair and bad things happen to good people...
Just gonna have to wait out these hormones as they stabilize and my emotions do as well. For now, forgive me if I'm irrational to you, I don't mean it....
Some of my recent examples:
I went shopping at a local shop for new nursing bras, I've been wearing my old ones from nrusing Patrick and they desperately needed replacemnt. The shop I purchased them last time no longer sells bras so I went to a differnt, recommended shop. The women were just trying to hlep me but when the gal asked me my size before having Cecilia and then recommended a size medium, I laughed out loud. Please. I've never been a medium in my life, I told her. Then I said, my cup size is no longer a C. My milk is in, I'm engorged. Can you measure me? Sure, we can measure you but why don't you go try a medium on and we'll go from there. Here's when my boiling point was reached. I'm wearing this exact bra and it's an XL and the cups are barely holding me right now. The same bra? Yes. I'll take your medium but I'll also take the XL so I don't have to make two trips. I was so irritated. Ended up buying the XL bras.. and they never measured me. A second lady even told me (after I asked her to measure me) that "we've been doing this a long time, I can tell you are maybe a D". I tried an E cup on (equivalent to DDD) and filled that out just fine. I left happy I'd gotten new bras but irritated in general. I asked Joc if she could tell I was pissed, she said yes in that "I was afraid you were going to bit the woman's head off if she told you you were a medium again" kind of way. No one lost their head that day, thank goodness.
We've been taking Patrick to daycare since we're still paying the weekly cost to hold his spot, he loves his friends and teachers at daycare, and it's good to keep his routine that he knows. I've struggled with this mentally as I wish he could be home with us and Cecilia but I also know that we'd be even more exhausted if he were here to take care of. Not to mention, Cecilia can't even appreciate him yet, so it really is better if he's at daycare getting that stimuation and not throwing tantrums at home. I have been feeling a lot of guilt over this but he doesn't go in unitl about 9 (7:30 was his old time for drop off when we were working) and we pick him up by 4. With the weather getting nicer (hopefully) we will have more outdoor time with him. He's going to be fine, and probalby won't remember this at all.
There have been a few recent stories posted on facebook about kids who have died. These are really hard on me. Maybe because my brother died young or my dad or because of my hormones but I look at these two beautiful babies given to us and I think about them dying. It scares me to think of that loss. I pray that God wouldn't do that to us, that I've expereinced enough loss in my life that He wouldn't do it but I also know Brian died when he was 15 and my dad two years later... it's possible God would do it. I rationalize with myself and I truly cherish every moment we have with them. I pray we're some of the lucky ones who see their children grow up and succeed and have families and carreers of their own. I don't dwell on it, I think I'm just a little more acutely aware of the possibility of tragedy and loss you could say and I'm realistic that life isn't fair and bad things happen to good people...
Just gonna have to wait out these hormones as they stabilize and my emotions do as well. For now, forgive me if I'm irrational to you, I don't mean it....
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Just a reminder...
So, I'm nearing the final weeks of this second pregnancy and am frequently reminded by every single person in the world around me what my freakin' due date is. It never fails, after telling one person the next walks up, places a hand on my basketball of a stomach and says it... "when are you due?" And now I hate them. Really.
I'm reminded of the post I wrote on the 31st of May, 2011. I was almost a week overdue with Patrick and fed up with people's well meaning questions. Tonight, I read my top things to never say to a 37+ pregnant woman and Joc and I had a good laugh at them. I feel the need to share, so here they are:
Here's my list of Things to not say to a 37+ week pregnant woman: (and my responses or internal thoughts to their comments)
1. still no baby? (yup, I had it just didn't tell anyone)
2. you must be miserable (well, I'm not horribly miserable but I'm done with this abdomen and not seeing anything below my gut)
3. still here? (yes, yes I am. Can you stop asking me this now? If you see me, you can pretty much assume that 1. i'm still pregnant 2. i haven't had the baby and 3. i'm not in the mood to answer your well-meaning questions.)
4. you haven't dropped, with your first, you have a good 2 weeks after you've dropped. (This said to me on my due date... I was so ready to jump across the table at the woman. hormones, right?)
5. are your feet swollen? (no, they usually look like this)
6. aren't you cute? (i'm not a cute person, never have been, never will be. It's life, and I'm 30 years old so I think I'd know if I were cute. It's the same way I feel when people call old people "cute". I do not wish to be called cute as an adult nor as an old woman with wrinkles and a sense of humor.)
7. when's your due date? (fill in my date here) So are you having a C-section? (not that I'm planning on). So how do you know that's the date? (ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???!!!)
8. you should eat something spicy, i ate some jalepeno's with my first and went into labor right after that. (Right, I'll take that into consideration... the heartburn is not worth it!)
9. Sex, you should have sex. (right, because sperm is what is the most helpful part of sex and since we paid some decent dollar amounts for the sperm that met my egg in my fallopian tube, I'm just gonna wait it out here... and no, I'm not taking volunteers for sperm donation!!)
10. Do you want to know what made me go into labor? (no, I don't because I'm a nurse and I read research crap and I know that there is absolutely no scientific evidence to support any of those old wives tales about what causes people to go into labor. What I need is prostaglandin and uterine contractions... which the baby has to secrete in order to start dilating this damn cervix.)
11. Do you know what you're having? (nope) You don't want to know? (Well, yeah we do but we also wanted to keep it a surprise) So are you gonna find out? (hopefully in the next few FUCKING weeks you idiot!)
12. You should go for a long walk. (yup, been walking this whole pregnancy..)
13. When's your due date? (may 26th) I sit back and watch as pure confusion crosses this person's face. So, what does that make you? (stupid for standing here, talking to you still) (this one also drives me mad when people I work with or people I speak to frequently, have asked me this multiple times through the pregnancy. I know it's not their job to remember nor do they really care what the date is... then stop asking me. AND when I tell them, end of May, then they say, well what day? I've taken to saying, you won't remember anyway so I'm not telling you again. It's mean, I know... but what can I say?!)
I can say I feel the same way now... I might add another that I've heard a lot in the past 2 days: "you've dropped" (no, I haven't) "yes, you have. You definitely have dropped." (Nope, stomach is still in the same place, my boobs are still resting on my stomach, I'm still short of breath and I can tell I haven't dropped.) "no, you have, I can see it." (Seriously? Keep pushing it and I'm gonna drop my fist into your face...).
Good times.
I'm reminded of the post I wrote on the 31st of May, 2011. I was almost a week overdue with Patrick and fed up with people's well meaning questions. Tonight, I read my top things to never say to a 37+ pregnant woman and Joc and I had a good laugh at them. I feel the need to share, so here they are:
Here's my list of Things to not say to a 37+ week pregnant woman: (and my responses or internal thoughts to their comments)
1. still no baby? (yup, I had it just didn't tell anyone)
2. you must be miserable (well, I'm not horribly miserable but I'm done with this abdomen and not seeing anything below my gut)
3. still here? (yes, yes I am. Can you stop asking me this now? If you see me, you can pretty much assume that 1. i'm still pregnant 2. i haven't had the baby and 3. i'm not in the mood to answer your well-meaning questions.)
4. you haven't dropped, with your first, you have a good 2 weeks after you've dropped. (This said to me on my due date... I was so ready to jump across the table at the woman. hormones, right?)
5. are your feet swollen? (no, they usually look like this)
6. aren't you cute? (i'm not a cute person, never have been, never will be. It's life, and I'm 30 years old so I think I'd know if I were cute. It's the same way I feel when people call old people "cute". I do not wish to be called cute as an adult nor as an old woman with wrinkles and a sense of humor.)
7. when's your due date? (fill in my date here) So are you having a C-section? (not that I'm planning on). So how do you know that's the date? (ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???!!!)
8. you should eat something spicy, i ate some jalepeno's with my first and went into labor right after that. (Right, I'll take that into consideration... the heartburn is not worth it!)
9. Sex, you should have sex. (right, because sperm is what is the most helpful part of sex and since we paid some decent dollar amounts for the sperm that met my egg in my fallopian tube, I'm just gonna wait it out here... and no, I'm not taking volunteers for sperm donation!!)
10. Do you want to know what made me go into labor? (no, I don't because I'm a nurse and I read research crap and I know that there is absolutely no scientific evidence to support any of those old wives tales about what causes people to go into labor. What I need is prostaglandin and uterine contractions... which the baby has to secrete in order to start dilating this damn cervix.)
11. Do you know what you're having? (nope) You don't want to know? (Well, yeah we do but we also wanted to keep it a surprise) So are you gonna find out? (hopefully in the next few FUCKING weeks you idiot!)
12. You should go for a long walk. (yup, been walking this whole pregnancy..)
13. When's your due date? (may 26th) I sit back and watch as pure confusion crosses this person's face. So, what does that make you? (stupid for standing here, talking to you still) (this one also drives me mad when people I work with or people I speak to frequently, have asked me this multiple times through the pregnancy. I know it's not their job to remember nor do they really care what the date is... then stop asking me. AND when I tell them, end of May, then they say, well what day? I've taken to saying, you won't remember anyway so I'm not telling you again. It's mean, I know... but what can I say?!)
I can say I feel the same way now... I might add another that I've heard a lot in the past 2 days: "you've dropped" (no, I haven't) "yes, you have. You definitely have dropped." (Nope, stomach is still in the same place, my boobs are still resting on my stomach, I'm still short of breath and I can tell I haven't dropped.) "no, you have, I can see it." (Seriously? Keep pushing it and I'm gonna drop my fist into your face...).
Good times.
Monday, September 10, 2012
So long...
This morning I received a message from my mom. My Grandpa Owens died in his sleep early Monday morning.
My grandpa has been dying all summer, it started with a GI bleed (gastrointestinal) that put him in the hospital and headed in a slow decline to Hospice and a bed in the living room, oxygen, a walker and a shell of a really great guy. He was 91 years old, he lived a good life (from my perspective).
I had the opportunity to go see him and my grandma on Saturday. I remember thinking on my way over that I wasn't sure I wanted to see him but I did. And I understood my reservations when I saw him. It wasn't my grandpa anymore though, he was gone already really. The man I hugged and said, "see you" to wasn't the grandpa who told funny "look at my thumb, gee you're dumb" jokes or had a temper that could scare you stiff (we don't call it "pulling a George Owens" for nothing) or the guy who talked about selling my dog to the Chinese restaurant or who always asked about my job and my career. He wasn't the guy who loved me, treated Joc with kindness and respect (regardless of what he believed) and asked about Patrick. That man, my grandpa, hasn't been around since the spring. And I feel okay with how I left him both Saturday and the last time I saw him.
He was at home. My mom was there. His children had all been home and seen him in the last month. He was as ready as he could be.
So long grandpa, thank you for everything you've given me in this life. May you rest in peace always.
My grandpa has been dying all summer, it started with a GI bleed (gastrointestinal) that put him in the hospital and headed in a slow decline to Hospice and a bed in the living room, oxygen, a walker and a shell of a really great guy. He was 91 years old, he lived a good life (from my perspective).
I had the opportunity to go see him and my grandma on Saturday. I remember thinking on my way over that I wasn't sure I wanted to see him but I did. And I understood my reservations when I saw him. It wasn't my grandpa anymore though, he was gone already really. The man I hugged and said, "see you" to wasn't the grandpa who told funny "look at my thumb, gee you're dumb" jokes or had a temper that could scare you stiff (we don't call it "pulling a George Owens" for nothing) or the guy who talked about selling my dog to the Chinese restaurant or who always asked about my job and my career. He wasn't the guy who loved me, treated Joc with kindness and respect (regardless of what he believed) and asked about Patrick. That man, my grandpa, hasn't been around since the spring. And I feel okay with how I left him both Saturday and the last time I saw him.
He was at home. My mom was there. His children had all been home and seen him in the last month. He was as ready as he could be.
So long grandpa, thank you for everything you've given me in this life. May you rest in peace always.
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