Home Alone

A few weeks ago I came up with a brilliant idea. It stemmed from exhaustion, as most of my brilliant ideas do these days. I would get up one morning, get Day ready for school, drop her off, and come back home to SLEEP! It was such a great plan that I wondered why it had taken me 2 1/2 months to think of. But then the momma guilt set in and I started thinking what kind of mother am I that I have to take my baby somewhere else just to get a nap? So, for the last few weeks exhaustion and guilt have been battling it out. Exhaustion won! And I mean in a big way... guilt has retreated never to be heard from again on this issue. I am home alone!

I guess this is really the first time since I had Day that I have been in this house without her. It's strange and of course I don't know what to do with myself, BUT it is almost 10:00 AM and I haven't even been up a whole hour. Still on my first cup of coffee. And even better than the original plan, Ken got her ready for me this morning and took her to school. (I wonder what she has on... I'll report later on that I'm sure.)

Another first this weekend, Ken and I went on a date! At night! Without Day! Yes, for the first time in almost 6 months. Mom and Jimmy came over to keep her, and we weren't even gone 3 hours, but still. I was nervous. Not because of whose care she was in (ok, a little because of that), but just because I hate to think about her crying over something that I can fix yet being unable to fix it because I'm not there. Probably another one of those themes of motherhood that I will experience for the rest of my life now. Here's the report I got: (I think they softened it a little for us.) She did good for about 30 minutes, then she was pretty much pissed the rest of the time. Mom said she didn't really get a "bath" per se... more like a wet down. She wasn't quite able to get her socks on her after the bath - almost didn't get the snap secured on the back of her pajamas. Then, she tried to recreate her fall asleep routine, exchanging my boob for a bottle of course, but Day was not fooled. And was not happy about it. She finally wore herself out about 8:45. She is rarely up past 8:00.

So, my mom will instantly feel guilt and/or inadequacy when she reads this, so let me say that this scenario could have happened to anyone. Although I would not have trusted the job to anyone else. My mother loves Day just like she birthed her herself. Just ask her. Well, you don't even have to ask her. If you know my mother, you already know this. And here's the truth of it - I was sad for Day that she cried, but a little happy that she missed me. Sick, right? I know. Another double edged sword.

Thanks, Cacky and Bebo for taking care of me! Sorry I screamed at you! Love, Day

I'm sure these little steps involving separation in any form will get a little easier. Just like it got easier to leave her at daycare. And I've had enough therapy and child development courses to know it is what healthy parents do (although I've never been completely healthy). I want to raise an independent child. But I want to be a constant source of comfort for her. And I don't want to miss a single moment! So, there. My thoughts in a rare moment of solitude.

Favorite pics from the last few weeks...

Lost and Found

Last weekend, I was making some space on my phone by transferring pictures to my computer. I have software that came with my phone and it syncs everything with the press of a button. This syncing business is sort of unclear to me. I'm more comfortable with words like save, move, cut/paste, etc. Anyway, I synced my phone, cleared off a bunch of photos, synced again, and POOF! Every. Single. One. Of. My. Photos. Was. Lost.

As you might imagine, after the initial gasp for air, I immediately broke down in a fit of sobs. Ken was sitting next to me and Day was on the floor. I made such a racket they both just got very still and stared at me. Sort of like how you might react if you saw a dying animal. Before you make a move to help, you must first determine if you will get hurt in the process. They did not interfere.

I couldn't breathe. The thought of losing all of those pictures... from pregnancy, hospital, first pediatrician visit, first grocery store trip, lunch time visits at daycare, just everyday life with my baby goddess. Lost. Forever. All I could manage to say was "Nooooo". Ok, so it was a little overdramatic. I admit that only because the end of the story is good. This syncing business apparently has an automatic backup that saves everything - even if you delete it off your phone and the software program. When I realized this, I cried again (maybe harder) at the relief of what had just been salvaged. And I laughed. With joy because I still had my precious photos and then at myself and the extreme emotions I had just experienced. Still no reaction from the family - they were still stunned at what they were witnessing. All of this happened in a matter of about 5 minutes.

After the shock wore off, Ken told me that I definitely deserved a dramatic actress award. Here are some of the photos from that batch that I was SICK about "losing"...

The Last 2 Months

Every time I think about posting a new blog I get overwhelmed with how much has happened since my last post and just can't muster up the energy to catch you all up on everything. So, I just decided to share some of my favorite pictures from the last 2 months ....

Day and Caston were in the same class at daycare for about a month until he moved up to the one year old class. I love this picture because Caston is WAY too big for that swing and because the look on Day's face is great. It's like she's saying, "Come on, Cuz. Get it together."



This is one of my treasures... 4 generations of moms and daughters. It's not the "best" shot of the 4 of us, but I think it is the most natural. The others seemed too posed. I love these women with all of my heart.

My cousin Suzy is an amazing photographer. She took these photos at David's wedding.

See more of her work: http://familyisfoureverlove.blogspot.com/

The night that we got back from the wedding weekend in Georgia, Day slept all night. And I mean ALL night. Went to bed at 8:00 PM. Woke up at 6:00 AM. Nothing like this had ever happened. The most she had ever slept in one stretch before this was 4 hours. I was so excited! I actually felt dizzy and disoriented I had gotten so much sleep. Of course, I did check on her to make sure she was breathing a couple of times, but she never woke up. Well, the celebration was short lived. She was so fussy when she finally woke up that I ended up taking her to the doctor... earache in both ears and 2 teeth coming through. (Yes, her first teeth broke through at 3 1/2 months). This is a picture from later that morning napping with her daddy.



Our first family beach trip was in June. She liked the beach just fine, but seemed to like the pool a little better. Her daddy accidentally dunked her under the water in the pool. Day recovered quickly. I did not.



More of my favorites from the beach:

For years now, Ken and I have gotten loads of Christmas cards of kids on the beach. Although we love seeing everybody's children growing up, it has also always been kind of bittersweet. We have joked before that we would pose with all of our animals in matching sweaters for our Christmas cards. So, this year we did the family photo shoot. Not sure if these will end up on cards or not, but it was nice to just have the opportunity.

Just when we got ourselves settled...

I've been putting off this post since it is sad. I have one week left at home with my girl.

I just don't know how to feel about going back to work. I want to work. I love my job. I miss it and the people I work with. But I do NOT want to leave my baby. It is hard to think about what she'll do all day, who will hold her, change her diaper, smile at her, feed her a bottle. I know I can't expect to be the only person in her life, but it seems so soon. Wasn't she just born like last week?

So, I'm trying to soak up every minute I have left at home. I'm sort of in a state of intentional denial. It will happen regardless of whether I think about it or not, so I choose not to think about it. On to other things...

Day went for her 2nd round of shots this morning and did so much better than the first time. I think the trick was giving Tylenol 30 minutes before and nursing her immediately before. She didn't even seem to notice the first shot. She screamed at the 2nd one, but by the time the nurse got the band aid on her and I picked her up, she stopped screaming. Much to my relief because the first round was traumatic. Next round, June 16... our 8th wedding anniversary.

We attempted our first family church service on Palm Sunday. We made it through the first 10 minutes, then Day started crying. We walked over to the nursery where she'll be going to daycare and talked to her teacher, Miss Jackie. She picked Day up out of the carrier and got a big smile! Then she took her around to the other teachers and introduced her as "Day Day, Caston's lil' cuz". I'm going to try to remember that next Monday when I drop her off. She'll be in good hands.

The next Sunday we tried again, and Day made it through the whole service. The Easter bunny brought her a stuffed bunny and a book. She used my Easter basket that my grandmother Mamie made me when I was a little girl. Here are some pictures from Easter...

Most weekends, Ken will get up with Day around 7:00 AM and let me sleep in. It is my treat for the week, and I look forward to it like Christmas. One morning a couple of weeks ago I woke up to the following: the smell of something burnt, dogs running through the house, all the doors to the outside were open, music was blaring, Day had only one snap secured on her onesie, the left side of her diaper was slung down on her hip, she had something sticky and a stunned but happy expression on her face. I was trying to absorb it all and assess everyone's safety when Ken explained, "We been partyin'." (proof below)

For those of you who gave us Wal-Mart gift cards as shower gifts, you have a special place in heaven. The swing we bought with those gift cards has been the best investment we have made so far. She naps in it every day and wakes up SO HAPPY! There is a mirror above the swing and when she spots that cute baby she gets the best open mouth grin...

My dad was here to visit last weekend and got lots of quality time with both his grandbabies. Day and Caston aren't very interested in each other yet, but that will change soon enough. Caston has gotten so big, and to think they are only 9 months apart. It's great to get a preview of all the stages through him. He is so much fun!

Instead of mourning the close of my time at home, I'm going to try to look forward to things to come. We have David and Christina's wedding in Georgia on Memorial Day weekend (our first out of town trip), Caston's first birthday party, and a beach vacation planned for June. Not to mention, a long awaited special Mother's Day for me! (I used to dread Mother's Day. Sorry, Mom... no offense, you understand.) So, lots of exciting firsts to think about. If you see me, please encourage me. If you pray, then pray I can make it through this next big transition.

One more thing I have to share. I get this look of adoration when she nurses. Right now, I'm pretty much her favorite thing ever. We are so in love. Can you tell?

It's true what "they" say...

1) It’s the hardest job you’ll ever love.

Here’s the honest truth. I didn’t know it would be so hard. I didn’t know she would cry so much. I didn’t (and couldn’t possibly) understand the physical stamina required. New moms are reluctant to talk about how difficult the job is because we are also so eternally grateful and in complete awe that we don’t want to come across as unappreciative. But I’ll speak up for all of us… THIS IS NOT FOR THE WEAK. And I mean the weak hearted, the weak stomached, or the weak minded. No wonder God chose women for the job. (Couldn’t help myself.)

It’s getting easier every day because I’m learning her language, but the first month especially made me feel incompetent, like a bumbling fool. And I keep thinking, “People all over the world in all sorts of situations handle this!” Mentally, motherhood requires such a huge leap from independence to total responsibility for another human being! I think breastfeeding probably magnifies this sense of responsibility and constant need. Your body is keeping someone else alive! It gives me butterflies sometimes.

My style of dealing with challenges and managing life in general is this… lay the cards on the table, let me analyze the situation, make a decision and act on it. I tend to be practical when it’s possible to do so and I really like a clean finish, all i's dotted and all t’s crossed. Well, surprise! That method is all but totally useless with motherhood. There ARE NO CARDS! I’m having to learn to be comfortable with not knowing what comes next, not knowing whether I did it “right” or not, not knowing what to do next and brave enough just to try something… completely blindly. Like I said, not my style. But it’s a great life lesson and one that I am overdue for anyway.

2) Sleep will become a luxury.

Ah, sleep. The thing I spent half of my former life doing. My rough estimation is that I probably spent a total of about 16 years asleep. Glad I got all that sleep. I remember what it felt like. I have had only two stretches of sleep that lasted over 3 ½ hours since February 13. One of which was last night – the only reason I have enough mental energy to blog today. I have been a professional sleeper. I’m talking naps, sleeping in strange places, prioritizing sleep over lots of important events and people. So, let me give myself some credit. I’ve done better than I thought. Before Day arrived, I would be cranky and unable, yes UNABLE to function if I didn’t get at least 8 hours of sleep. My average and preferred length was 10 hours. These days, give me four and I can stay productive for the next 20 hours. That is a miracle. It’s not even the same sleepy as before. It’s a new zone. Your brain just half way shuts down only letting in the most important and critical information. No longer room for ideas that don’t involve Baby Day, which is fine with me.

I hear this sleep thing gets better. I’ve also heard from other moms that it doesn’t. Either way, I’m on the train. No going back now. I think that’s what makes it easier than I thought… there is no choice involved. Before, I could chose to sleep or not. Now, what I want gets trumped by the Princess. Finally.

3) They grow up so fast.

I know it’s only been 7 weeks, but what happened? Have other people just lived normal lives? Maybe it’s the consistency of our routine, but I feel like time has just become irrelevant. She is already smiling, cooing, “bossing” me with her cries, recognizing faces and voices, enjoying her toys AND she is growing out of clothes! I put a onesie on her the other day and when I picked her up the snaps popped open. Oh, and she grew out of newborn size diapers. She’s in size 1 now. And it makes me sad. And happy at the same time. Maybe this is the ultimate theme of motherhood… totally contradicting feelings existing together. Is this what bittersweet means? Ken played a song for me the other day by Darius Rucker called “It Won’t Be Like This For Long” that really says it well:



4) Your whole world changes.

One of the things that irritated me most while I was pregnant, and there were a few, was when people would say, “Oh, your world is about to change.” I would think, well, yeah I sort of thought it might. But the reason that people say that is because it is TRUE. And there is no way to describe it. You just have to live it. It’s like most of your former world just washes away. For me, that includes most of the things that didn’t matter anyway. I see everything through her eyes. I want to teach her about all the good things in the world. I want to protect her from the bad things. I am her world filter right now and will be for a lot of years. She’ll learn about people and love and God and herself through my words and actions. Again, responsibility that I could not have imagined … even though I thought I had an idea.

5) It’s a love like no other.

I see Ken with Day and I can hardly stand it. I know that his love for her is as big and pure as mine. He and I are learning together and sharing experiences that nobody else is a part of and it has made our relationship richer and stronger. (Don’t misunderstand. We have also hated each other for passing moments over the last few weeks.) That said, my love for Day is different. It’s all-consuming. It’s universal. It hurts. It’s probably the closest thing to God’s love for us. I think that’s the whole truth of it. It’s why we have the opportunity to be parents. So we can better understand His love for us.

DAY'S BIRTHDAY

I’m sitting here listening to the rain and Indigo Girls. The power has been off for about an hour and it’s starting to get dark. I couldn’t be happier. My sweet baby girl is asleep in her bassinet after falling asleep on my chest. My mom left earlier after spending the week with me. She cooked us dinner every night and helped me with Day. Such simple pleasures. I heard something for the first time the other day that describes how I feel… a bruised heart. I’m just tender about things. I cried at American Idol last night because the cameras showed a proud mama in the audience who was crying. My heart and head and lungs are so free – there’s just more room for life now that Day is here.

I’ve been meaning to write her birth story for a few days now, but I’ve been busy. And, yes, by busy I mean staring at her angel eyes and waiting on those precious smiles - even if they are just poop smiles right now.

Ken and I had a great Valentine’s Day this year. We grilled steaks and I even had a glass of red wine. I thought maybe it would relax me and put me in labor. We went to bed about 9 PM. At 11:00 I woke up with a bad cramp. It passed and I went back to sleep. I woke up at 11:05 with the same cramp. 11:10, 11:15… Ok, time to wake up Ken. I didn’t know what to expect with contractions because they’d been described to me so many different ways. But ANY sensation every 5 minutes was pretty promising. I woke Ken up and we started talking about what to do, how long to wait, how bad they were. The contractions were uncomfortable and I probably would have described them as almost painful if I hadn’t been so excited. I took a bath and shaved my legs just in case this was it.

An hour had gone by and they were still 5 minutes apart, so we called the hospital. Dr. Betcher told us to wait another hour and see if they went away or intensified. Sometime around midnight we decided to walk around the block. Thinking back on that walk, it was magical. We’d stop when a contraction came on, I’d hold on to Ken and we would just laugh.

But, as the theme of my labor and delivery unfolded, things did not go according to schedule. After the walk, my contractions started becoming more irregular. We decided to try to go to sleep and see what happened. Of course, that was close to impossible. One, because I was in pain and second, because we were so excited.

Around 2:00 AM on Sunday we decided to go to the hospital just to see if I was dilating. I honestly thought that they would check me and if I was not dilating, they would send us back home. But, Dr. Betcher had already told the nurses that we had called and to be looking for us. We checked in at the Emergency Room. Ken got to say, “My wife’s in labor.” More smiles. When the attendant wheeled me to the Labor and Delivery floor, they were ready for us. Two nurses got us settled and admitted before we even had a chance to ask if we were going to stay or go. The nurses checked me and I was not dilated, but Dr. Betcher had told them to go ahead and keep me until he got there later that morning to check me. That’s when I called Mom. I told her nothing was really happening and to wait and come up at a decent hour. She peeked her head in the hospital room about 3:30 AM.

Dr. Betcher came in and checked me around 8:00 AM. My contractions had continued, but they were not increasing in frequency or intensity. We had not been to sleep. At first, the doctor told us we had some choices: 1) we could walk the halls and see if things got moving, 2) we could go back home until my labor progressed, 3) or we could go ahead and start Pitocin to strengthen my contractions. I was scheduled for an induction that Wednesday, February 18. He said he wanted to do an ultrasound before we made up our minds. We had already started leaning toward the Pitocin. Ken did not want to go back home, and my thought was if we were going to have to come back and induce in a couple days, might as well get started early since we were already there. When we did the ultrasound, the doctor changed his mind about our options. The low amniotic fluid level concerned him. He suggested we go ahead with the Pitocin. He didn’t want to wait or let me walk.

So, HELL began about 10:30 AM Sunday. Pitocin is an evil drug. Maybe others have had different experiences. Maybe my pain threshold is lower than I thought. Maybe everyone lies about how bad it is. Whatever, that shit HURT! I lasted about an hour before I was begging for pain medicine. Note to other pregnants: Stadol is not a pain reliever. It is a drug that makes you so drunk between contractions that you stop bothering the nurses. I think it’s more for them than the laboring mother.

(I had to stop writing to tend to Day and am just getting back to this 4 days later… so this is how it’s gonna be, huh?)

I labored with Pitocin and Stadol from 10:30 AM Sunday until 5:30 PM that afternoon when I had finally dilated to 3 cm – enough for the epidural. That was heaven. I finally felt like I could rejoin what was going on around me. Before that, the pain had me locked up in my own head. It took another 6 hours or so to dilate enough to start pushing. Around 11:30 I was 10 cm and started pushing. I was doing all I could with the energy I had left, but she was not coming down far enough for the doctor to assist with forceps or vacuum extraction. She was far enough down where we could see her head… but just wouldn’t come any further. After close to 2 hours pushing, we reassessed the situation. Dr. Betcher became concerned that Day was not tolerating labor very well. He told us she was in distress and we needed to seriously consider a c-section. After all of my reservations with a section, surprisingly, it didn’t take much discussion to decide to go ahead with the surgery. Hearing that your baby is in distress really doesn’t leave a whole lot of room for options.

The surgery was rough. Those who say you don’t feel pain, only pressure are insane. If that’s the case, then it’s the same kind of pressure you would feel if a full grown man were to stomp grapes with both feet on your abdomen while you’re lying flat on your back. Sorry, I call that pain. Finally they pulled her out and she cried immediately. I had kept it together through the entire process until that moment. I didn’t even think about it. I cried so hard. And thanked GOD right there on the table. It was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. She had a voice. I don’t understand how that sound punctured my heart the way it did. Ken went to see her immediately. On his way back, he saw my “guts” lying on my chest. When he got back to me, he told me that Day was perfect and beautiful and healthy. Then he said with a pale face and a shaky voice that the doctors were still doing some “pretty serious stuff” to me. I told him not to talk about it. Later he admitted that he thought maybe I wouldn’t make it. He said that every time he’d ever seen that much blood and guts (deer, cows, etc) that the “thing” had died. I think he was and is thoroughly impressed with what I went through physically.

They brought her to me and held her close to my face. I cried and kissed her while they put me back together. She had a head full of black hair, big bright blue eyes, and her daddy’s face. He makes such a pretty girl! We got a picture of that moment thanks to my friend Joedee who suggested we not forget to capture it – thank you, Joedee! Back in the labor room where I recovered, the nurses transitioned Day in the same room so we were never separated. She nursed as soon as they let me hold her. What a good little rule follower! That part went as planned - I was never away from her and never anxious about what they were doing to her.

So, needless to say, my experience was not at all what I had envisioned, but it turned out to be more than worth every second. I ended up getting what I wanted in a roundabout way: I got to experience going into labor, feeling contractions, pushing, AND a section – all with one baby. That way, if I never have another child, I can at least say I have been through all of it. Well, enough of it.

There were a lot of years that I could only imagine what it must be like to look into the eyes of a child that I had helped create. There were just as many years that I wondered if I would ever know how that felt. And now I know. And of course, there are no words for that. It is heaven on earth. The purest peace.