So here we are on Friday which means I have officially made it through my first week on my own with two kids. It really has been a series of such highs and such lows. Let's start with highs.
Highs
1. On Tuesday I managed to go to Target and Walmart with the kids. I nursed Samuel in the Target food court while Emelia ate a hot dog and I changed her poopy diaper in the front seat of the car (mostly because I could not figure out how to get all of us plus a cart in to the bathroom) but we did it. i rewarded myself with two hanging baskets of petunias which brighten my day every time I pull up to the house.
2. I asked for help. This is a biggie. I called my aunt spur of the moment and asked if she could watch Emelia (while she napped) so I could go to the breastfeeding group at the hospital. I am so glad I went. I was able to get some help for my soreness, meet other moms and weigh Samuel. He is back above birth weight which is great.
3. I washed my hair - twice - and have so far managed getting everyone downstairs in the mornings.
4. My friends have been bringing us food and it has been such a blessing. I don't know what I am going to do when I have to cook again. It has also meant I don't need much in t eh way of groceries this pay check so I think I am going to get my hair colored.
5. Jeff continues to be great and I seriously could not ask for a better husband.
6. Emelia's behavior has greatly improved. We have had a few tussles but for the most part she is doing well. I actually think Daddy going back to work helped because now we are back to our routine a little bit more. She is trying to be patient but that is a tough concept for a two-year-old. Yesterday she anted a snack while I was nursing. I told her I would get her a snack as soon as I was done nursing that she needed to be patient. She responded, "can I be patient and have a snack?" Touche'
The Lows
1. I pretty much hit a wall every day around four. I am trying to nap when Emelia naps but it is hard for me to nap during the day. This leaves me not only low on energy, but low on patience for post-nap crankiness.
2. Samuel has developed some sort of gas issue that comes on every night between 10:00 and 2:00. I am not sure if it is something I ate or what the deal is but for instance, last night I nursed him at 9:00, put him down around 9:30 and we all went to sleep. Hooray! It seemed so promising. Then he woke up at 11:30 to nurse and began to scream shortly thereafter for about two hours. I tried everything, gas drops, laying him on his stomach, The five S's, pacifier, swing, everything but nothing worked. He finally just sort of calmed down on his own or maybe he got the gas out, I am not really sure but it was a miserable two hours. He has a Dr. appointment today so maybe she can help. Pray that she can!
3. I am still pretty weepy but getting better. The lactation consultant suggested that if I am still feeling "blue" by the end of next week I should see my Dr. for a mild anti-depressant for the short term while my hormones rebalance. Part of me thinks that would be great - solution in a pill. Part of me worries about that idea so all of me is just praying that things work out on their own.
4. Still having trouble with clothes but at least the weight is still coming off. Probably because yesterday for breakfast I had a cup of reheated coffee from the day before's pot and what was left of Emelia waffle with peanut butter. : ) I don't so much mind my body, it is just that I have had very limited clothing selection for the last nine months and was looking forward to my wardrobe again but I still can't wear most of it.
Overall things have gone better than I expected with the exception of the sleep thing. Emelia was easier at night than Samuel is so that is a little trying but I feel like we can get through it. More prayer and hopefully some help from the Dr. and we should be in good shape.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
Seven days, seventy emotions
So Samuel Wayne Mochal was born May 18 at 11:48 p.m. weighing 7 pounds 8 ounces. What a blur life has been since then. Labor was long, pushing was short, I will write more about that later. I feel physically pretty good but I have been on the hormone roller coaster something fierce. ( I apologize in advance, I spell checked but I don't have the energy to do much else.)
The baby has been relatively easy to care for - typical newborn eat every two hours, sleep, eat some more, poop, pee on mom, sleep, eat some more, cry a little, etc. Emelia on the other hand has been tough. She is fine with her brother and at times seems loving but she has just been pushing limits and testing boundaries. She had a melt down in Target on Saturday that lasted two hours. She was crying hysterically to the point of hyperventilating. She just could not pull herself together. It left me feeling really disheartened. If we couldn't get through a 20 min Target trip with Jeff and I both how will I ever do it on my own. Then Sunday she just had a hysterical fit over not wanting to wear her bib. Normally this would not be a battle I would choose to fight, so what she spills on her clothes, but she has been fine with her bib and the incident seemed a direct attempt to be stubborn. Yesterday was a dark day. I screamed at her had to remove myself from the situation for fear of screaming more or throwing something. I just had his sinking feeling in my stomach. I think the hardest part of just that I don't know what it will look like when it gets better so I can't picture it. I can't see the light at the end of tunnel. Everything is compounded when you are running on five hours of sleep a night as well. My emotions are just so close to the surface that I cry at least 15 minutes a day, over what, I am not sure. I also just keep thinking that if my mom were alive this would all be better. She would stay with us and coach me and give me a break and I would just be able to make it through so much better. I have aunts and I have Jeff's mom but none of that is really the same. Then I look in the mirror and cry again. I feel like i had come so far with my weight loss journey and here I am back at square one with nothing that fits. I don't have many of my bigger clothes because I thought I was never going back. Ha isn't that a pickle. I know rationally that I gave birth a week ago and should not expect much but I do. I expect to get the chores done and I expect to have a good child because I have worked hard for the last two years to raise a good child and run a good home and in one week it feels like it has all just fallen apart and I am not sure how or when I am going to get it back together again. When someone asks me how I am doing I literally say something like we're okay or we're managing but my eyes well with tears because I am not sure that either of those things is the truth. The scariest thing about it is that today is the best day I have had so far. I got eight hours of sleep - in two hour increments - I got the laundry done and I have washed my hair. I even cut myself some new bangs. I just think I needed to let all of that out. If you are reading this please don't feel sorry for me just pray for me. Ask God to give me wisdom patience and a reduced estrogen level. If you have tow kids and have advice on what to do with Emelia send that my way. If you don't have children please don't be discouraged. They are a blessing and one I would not give away - okay i would maybe loan them out but not give them away. I just need to recover and get some sleep and pray. Today I opened my Bible t o a passage I had randomly scrawled in the front. The reference was Ephesians 4:2. When I got there it said this. "Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love." Good advice back then, great advice for today.
The baby has been relatively easy to care for - typical newborn eat every two hours, sleep, eat some more, poop, pee on mom, sleep, eat some more, cry a little, etc. Emelia on the other hand has been tough. She is fine with her brother and at times seems loving but she has just been pushing limits and testing boundaries. She had a melt down in Target on Saturday that lasted two hours. She was crying hysterically to the point of hyperventilating. She just could not pull herself together. It left me feeling really disheartened. If we couldn't get through a 20 min Target trip with Jeff and I both how will I ever do it on my own. Then Sunday she just had a hysterical fit over not wanting to wear her bib. Normally this would not be a battle I would choose to fight, so what she spills on her clothes, but she has been fine with her bib and the incident seemed a direct attempt to be stubborn. Yesterday was a dark day. I screamed at her had to remove myself from the situation for fear of screaming more or throwing something. I just had his sinking feeling in my stomach. I think the hardest part of just that I don't know what it will look like when it gets better so I can't picture it. I can't see the light at the end of tunnel. Everything is compounded when you are running on five hours of sleep a night as well. My emotions are just so close to the surface that I cry at least 15 minutes a day, over what, I am not sure. I also just keep thinking that if my mom were alive this would all be better. She would stay with us and coach me and give me a break and I would just be able to make it through so much better. I have aunts and I have Jeff's mom but none of that is really the same. Then I look in the mirror and cry again. I feel like i had come so far with my weight loss journey and here I am back at square one with nothing that fits. I don't have many of my bigger clothes because I thought I was never going back. Ha isn't that a pickle. I know rationally that I gave birth a week ago and should not expect much but I do. I expect to get the chores done and I expect to have a good child because I have worked hard for the last two years to raise a good child and run a good home and in one week it feels like it has all just fallen apart and I am not sure how or when I am going to get it back together again. When someone asks me how I am doing I literally say something like we're okay or we're managing but my eyes well with tears because I am not sure that either of those things is the truth. The scariest thing about it is that today is the best day I have had so far. I got eight hours of sleep - in two hour increments - I got the laundry done and I have washed my hair. I even cut myself some new bangs. I just think I needed to let all of that out. If you are reading this please don't feel sorry for me just pray for me. Ask God to give me wisdom patience and a reduced estrogen level. If you have tow kids and have advice on what to do with Emelia send that my way. If you don't have children please don't be discouraged. They are a blessing and one I would not give away - okay i would maybe loan them out but not give them away. I just need to recover and get some sleep and pray. Today I opened my Bible t o a passage I had randomly scrawled in the front. The reference was Ephesians 4:2. When I got there it said this. "Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love." Good advice back then, great advice for today.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Still waiting
So here I am one week from my due date and I swear if you told me I could induce labor by drinking pickle juice and standing on my head I would be hunting down the Vlassic jar. My oh my, I am ready for this baby. The nursery is ready, the house is ready, my body is ready but the baby apparently is not ready. I will try to wait patiently. I have this nagging voice in the back of my mind from the ultrasound where the tech said, "I would put the due date at closer to May 24 than the 20 but we will leave it on your chart as the 20th." What if it is not the 20th, what if it is the 24th? Really, that is not that far away but it feels like forever! Pray for patience for me and Emelia who is tired of having a mommy who can't go down the slide!
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Lesson Learned
I have learned a valuable lesson recently one I would like to write down because I will probably need to reflect on it often in the coming months. You see I am a fixer by nature. I like to help people, I like to solve problems and find solutions to dilemmas. You need a crib, I will scour Craigslist until I find one for you. You need some monetary help, here is what I have. You need someone to sign up to bring something to the bake sale/youth retreat/volunteer meeting/whatever sign me up for cookies or cake or whatever you need. That is just a part of how God made me. The thing is the reverse angle of that is very tricky for me. I have a tough time asking for help. This is a growing phenomenon for me because I don't think it was always this hard for me. It may have to do with my mom's death. I think before when I needed help my mom had some sort of spidey sense that tingled and she was always there before I ever even asked. The ironic part is I probably need more help at this point in my life than ever before and yet now I am the most reluctant to ask.
It all comes down to vanity/pride. You see on the outside I look like I have got life pretty much together. I am fairly organized, my house is usually pretty darn clean, I volunteer in several different ministries at church and overall I look pretty with it. The problem with asking for help is that in my little mind that is the equivalent of admitting I can't do everything and I don't have it all together. I can not dig up a garden when I am nine months pregnant or put together a compost bin that specifically says you need two adults to put this together. I probably should not be on a ladder trying to install a ceiling fan when my water could break at any minute. Yet, these are all things I have tried or contemplated doing in the last week. The real problem is this - by not asking my friends and family for help I am depriving someone of a chance to be Christ-like to me. I am depriving someone else of the chance to be the fixer which may be how God created them. There are various folks in my small group that posses the sort of handiness that I am currently in need of and yet I am reluctant to reach out. That is just plain silly and it is not what God has asked me to do in building a Christian community. So I am officially asking for help world. I need meals when this baby comes and someone to put a ceiling fan in Emelia's room. I need help digging up a garden - I will give you a summer's supply of free tomatoes in return for your help. For a little while I am going to need to be taken care of instead of taking care of everyone else. It literally pains me to say that, but I am learning a lesson.
It all comes down to vanity/pride. You see on the outside I look like I have got life pretty much together. I am fairly organized, my house is usually pretty darn clean, I volunteer in several different ministries at church and overall I look pretty with it. The problem with asking for help is that in my little mind that is the equivalent of admitting I can't do everything and I don't have it all together. I can not dig up a garden when I am nine months pregnant or put together a compost bin that specifically says you need two adults to put this together. I probably should not be on a ladder trying to install a ceiling fan when my water could break at any minute. Yet, these are all things I have tried or contemplated doing in the last week. The real problem is this - by not asking my friends and family for help I am depriving someone of a chance to be Christ-like to me. I am depriving someone else of the chance to be the fixer which may be how God created them. There are various folks in my small group that posses the sort of handiness that I am currently in need of and yet I am reluctant to reach out. That is just plain silly and it is not what God has asked me to do in building a Christian community. So I am officially asking for help world. I need meals when this baby comes and someone to put a ceiling fan in Emelia's room. I need help digging up a garden - I will give you a summer's supply of free tomatoes in return for your help. For a little while I am going to need to be taken care of instead of taking care of everyone else. It literally pains me to say that, but I am learning a lesson.
Monday, May 04, 2009
Progress
So, I went to the doctor today and I am one centimeter dilated and 50% effaced. Probably more information than some of you wanted, but too bad, it was cause for great joy at my house! My cousin's wedding is Friday so I have to hold out till after that. I told my doctor and she said she will be out of town until Saturday afternoon so we have made a date for Sunday. It would be lovely for baby X to be born on Mother's Day. So since I am clearly not in control of this at all, I am furiously trying to get the house in the best possible shape for this weekend because I am pretty determined to have this baby then and if not then next week I will lay around and watch movies and eat popcorn and M&M's with Emelia all week. Also not a bad plan!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)