Choices and Gratitude. And a clear head?

It's been months since I blogged.  Busy months.  I'll leave it at that:)

I've always approached this blog with what's top of mind for me.  The past couple of days:

1.  Choices
2.  Gratitude

I'll be vague, as the details don't matter.  Just like the nature v. nuture debate, I think most people would philosophically suggest that one's life path is either a series of choices or the result of fate...or somewhere along the gray line in between.

Me?  I've certainly uttered more than once, "there are not coincidences."  That said, I'm a choices kind of gal.  Maybe that's the part of me that's still grasping at the last straws of "control" in my seemingly out-of-control daily life.  I don't know.  What I do know is this:  I made a series of conscious choices that led me to where I am today - both literally and figuratively.  Along the way - there were some (pretty big) surprises - but for the most part, even those are tied to choices I made.  Hindsight is 20/20, so would I have made some different choices in retrospect?  Perhaps. 

Here's the even better thing about the ability to choose your own path:  We continue to make choices each and every day.  I ultimately am the most significant influence on my own destiny, and - to a large extent now - on the future for my daughters.  So, when I'm frustrated or upset about my day/week/month/life - it's freeing to know that change is right around the corner.  It's my choice.

Gratitude?  I'm grateful to be able to choose.  But - more importantly and perhaps not seemingly related to my thoughts about choices:  I'm grateful for this lot I have in life.  For momentary lapses, I forget.  How could I let that happen?  These girls...this family B and I created.  I'm overwhelmed thinking about about the gifts in my life.  This is what I will choose to protect and nuture and grow. 

And, a clear head?  I'm muddling through, trying to clear the cobwebs.  It takes time.  It seems to be easier for some than others; I seem to be pretty "average" on most any given spectrum, so I suppose it'll take me an average amount of time, and I'll be clear. For a while.

This weekend.

Catchy title for the post, huh (insert sarcastic tone)?

I cried today.

Let me explain:

This weekend was fun.  My sister-in-law, Kelly, came to visit Maria (and her namesake) along with her family.  I really like Kelly and enjoyed even the little time we had to catch up and talk.

But - the visit also meant that we spent the majority of the weekend at my MIL's house for meals, just visiting, etc.  That's not a bad thing...not at all what I"m suggesting.  The tricky part was that AG and MK both were "out of sorts" - lacking in sleep (AG from playing with her cousins for 72 hrs straight; MK from just being away from her usual environment, etc.) and cranky.  But, that's par, right?

A few days ago, I would've told you that MK's little bout of colic was nearing its end...clearly, I made the declaration too soon.  MK had considerable episodes Friday night (started in the car on the way home at 8 and lasted until about 11); Saturday night (started at MIL's house at 6 or so and lasted until about 11); and most of the day today (first daytime episodes).  She finally knocked out around 4:30 pm.

So, I cried today.  Why?

 - It's exhausting.  I'm the only person who can calm her at all, so she's with me 24/7.  Literally.
 - It's so hard to hear your child cry like that.  I've read a lot about colic, and most physicians/experts claim the babies aren't actually in pain, but it sure sounds like it. It breaks my heart.
 - While most people are supportive in general of new mothers, a few persons have made comments about "how could I let her cry like that..." etc. - as if I haven't tried everything I know to comfort her.  So, while I'm a self-confident enough person to ignore most of these types of comments, it's still hard to hear!

I'm in hopes that this will be a better week - must like last week was - and that the tales of colic peaking at 6 weeks are true (would mean we're on the downslide after this week)!

At the end of the day, I just love this little girl so much.  When she isn't crying, she just beams and coos, and her face lights up. That's what I try to focus on!

And so it goes every night...

I shouldn't even be writing this.  I should be in bed sleeping.  Why?  Because MK has been asleep for the past hour.  It's now 10:13 pm; she's been asleep since about 9 pm.  If she follows the pattern she seems to have established, she'll sleep until sometime between 11:30 and 12, and then she'll get up, eat, hang out and go back down.  On a good night, she's back down by 1 or 1:30; last night it was 3.

So - all the intelligent folks would take this opportunity to sleep.  Me - not so intelligent.  Why?  Because - this is almost always the first time ALL DAY that I have had a chance to do anything for ME.  By the way, that means things like cleaning the kitchen, writing thank you notes, addressing birth announcements and picking up the house so I don't want to crawl out of my skin (I'm slightly OCD about having a neat house).

What's my husband doing? Weeelllll....he's been in bed since 8:30 or so.  He says he's tired and needs to sleep.  Um...me too!

I've got nobody to blame but myself, I suppose.  I wish I was okay with letting all of the "chores" go by the wayside (along with the 30 minutes I'll spend between blogging, Facebook, email) and just kicking back, because I truly need to.

So, I'm signing off.  I'm going to do it.  I'm going to sleep.

In the now.

Right here, right now, it's all good.

As I try to capture this journey of being the parent of a newborn (and a preschooler), I know that I need to capture each moment for what it is.  And this one - right now - is good.

I had a good night's sleep last night (that's how I describe six hours, four of which were uninterrupted).  I took an hour-long nap today.  I got out and ran some much-needed errands today while AG was in preschool; MK slept like an angel while I did so.  Husband had to work late (very late), and I managed to feed, bathe and put to bed the two girls.

So, while MK is snoozing for a few minutes (did I mention she's in the bouncy seat in the bathroom with the fan turned on?  whatever works.), I've enjoyed a glass of wine while listening to some good music and finalizing my address list for MK's birth announcements.  Husband is now home and one the phone with a West Coast friend, so I'm literally chillin'.  For the moment.  And, well, that's about all any of us can ask for, isn't it?

A few years ago, I read The Power of Now, and while I'm pretty sure this wasn't quite what the author was referring to, I am taking in how grateful and happy I am.  Right.  Now.  Because, what I also know is that the moment can (and will) change.  Just.  Like.  That.

My Cuddlebug

After several friends emailed me with encouraging words (after reading my previous two blog entries), I realized it was time for something positive!  I certainly didn't intend for my other entries to come across as negative, but rather as my reality!

The short update:  MK is going a bit better at night, as long as she's sleeping right beside Mama...yep, that's right, right beside me.  She still wants to nurse more often at night than during the day, but at least I'm not up and about.  I never thought I'd be a supporter of the "family bed," and I'm certainly still not an advocate.  But, desperate times call for desperate measures, and this kid likes to cuddle.  We had a pediatric appointment today, and after describing our days (she's an angel) versus nights (demons come out), my beloved pediatrician (really, I love her) described MK as likely being "colicky."  So, there you have it.  Colic.  On the spectrum, she's probably mild; let's hope it stays that way.

The upside of this?  This daughter of mine loves to cuddle.  Her sister, AG, has never been much of a cuddly kid.  From day one home from the hospital, she slept great in her crib (never even had a basinette, moses basket, etc.), and even today doesn't enjoy much cuddle time.  She's good for a few hugs and kisses, but after that, she wants to move on (she's always on the move, period).  MK, on the other hand, just wants to be held - day and night.  During the day, I have more luck putting her down (swing, etc.), but she still prefers to be held.  She also has more "cushion" than AG had; this baby has surpassed her birth weight in fewer than the recommended two weeks.  She's a chunk (as much as a <8 lb baby can be).

So, while my bent is to be a "practical" parent - emphasizing things like sleep training, schedules and discipline (I'm more fun than I make it sound!), MK has reminded me to let go and just enjoy cuddling.  Because, one day all too very soon, I know both of my babies will be grown, and I'll wish they wanted to lie in bed with me at night and snuggle up.  I'm lucky that I get to enjoy this now.

Things Fall Apart

Whew!

I knew the wheels would fall off the bus at some point.

MK and I had a lovely day - just the two of us.  My mother, who was staying with us to help since MK's birth a week ago, left yesterday afternoon.  And, to be honest, while I knew I'd miss all her help (she really was incredibly helpful), I also looked forward to some alone time with my baby.  After AG went to school and B went to work, the house was quiet.  At this stage in the game, MK is a perfect angel during the day - eating and sleeping almost on what seems like a schedule (hers, not mine).  But, starting around dinner time, the story is much different.

So sets the stage for our evening.  All was quite and pleasant on the home front when AG and B arrive home around 4 pm.  I should mention that - coincidentally - B has had one of his busiest work weeks in memory.  So, in addition to having a new baby and his MIL staying at his home (which, to be honest, I think he didn't mind at all), he's had a stressful work week.  So, they come in, and he immediately opens his laptop to get back to work (he left work early to pick up AG).

AG has had such a great reaction so MK's birth; she's incredibly loving toward her sister.  But, just in the past two days, she's begun to exhibit some (typical) behavior of a child who has a new sibling.  So, it was no surprise that she immediate decided to "get naked" and run around the house.  Okay, whatever.  I managed to calm her down with an episode of "Diego."  Meanwhile, B still working with stressed look on his face.  Because we don't have a home office, he's working at the dining room table; basically, we're all in the same space (hence need for new home).

Then, MK decides to start her "witching hour" ritual of wailing for about 30-45 minutes.  This is a child who is quite and content all day long.  And, all of a sudden, she's demanding to nurse every hour.  Uh, okay.  I can do that.

Then, B says he's hungry and what are we having for dinner?  This isn't quite as insensitive as it sounds (although, because I'm a "get up and go" type of person, I don't think he realizes that I still have significant pain and am supposed to take it easy) since we have some food I've pre-ordered and just needs to be heated.  But, I still have to make some side items.  But, no worries...EXCEPT my baby is demanding to be nursed (so I'm nursing her in the crook of my left arm and fixing dinner with my right hand) and AG is pulling at my leg wanting to be with me every step of the way.

B makes feeble attempt to help.  Baby isn't having it; neither is AG.  All want mommy.  B is incredibly frustrated.  He steps outside, sighing.  He come comes back in and announces we need to get hired help (note: we are hiring a nanny, but only for my work hours and after I return from maternity leave); we just can't do this.  My jaw drops open - is he kidding me?  I kindly remind him MK is only a week old and that we'll get the hang of this.  Have I mentioned that I've been doing all the getting up in the middle of the night?

Oh, so we sit down for dinner - MK in my arms, because that's the only way she'll be quiet.  After dinner, MK demands to be nursed again, so I sit down.  B clears the table but upon realizing the dishwasher is full of clean dishes, announces he "can't do it" and will clean the kitchen tomorrow.  Uh - again - are you kidding me?  Oh - and then AG - who insisted of wearing "big girl panties" when I said she couldn't eat dinner without any clothes on - peed on the sofa.  Not the leather one.

B takes Anna up to take a bath (score).  I attempt - with no success - to soothe MK asleep, and she's wailing as AG comes down to get me to read stories to her (what she calls "special mommy time").

It's at this point when B simply can't take anymore.  He exits the scene.  Oh - did I mention (I think not) that I suggested earlier today the he get out of the house this evening since he's had such a stressful week at work?  I could tell he was about to lose it.  So, he chooses to exit the scene right when I probably need him most.

Am I angry?  No.  Honestly, there must be more than one reason the doctors prescribe the painkillers after a C-section.  In addition to helping with pain, they do take the edge off.  So, whatever.

We'll get it down.  I think.

And Baby MK Makes Four

Baby MK is one week old today.  And, the birth of a new baby isn't included in the common list of lifetime "milestones" for no reason.  Having done this twice now, I can attest that welcoming a child (biological or adopted, I would imagine) into your family generates such an incredible bevy of emotions.  In other words, the whole thing is an emotional roller coaster ride.

The past week has been no exception.  At several points (ok - many), I've thought to myself, "I should blog about this so I don't forget it."  And, then my next thought is, "Uh - who am I kidding?  If I have one free moment, I'm sleeping."  So, I now force myself to sit down (MK is napping; her big sister AG is at preschool; my husband is at work) and record some of this journey so I can look back one day and recall the reality.  Because, truly, while you can remember generalities, very few of the visceral details stick around very long (otherwise, the human race would be extinct).  Now, I can't possibly recall and/or record everything that transpired over the past week, but here are a few nuggets:

Setting the stage:  

The past few months have been crazy, crazy, crazy at our house.  Not "bad" crazy, but just nuts.  Or, as some would day, "just life."  I'm a working mother.  Honestly, I waffle about whether this is the right thing for my family and for me - I've even tried "part-time" on for size since my first daughter, AG, was born in 2008.  But, in the end, I determined that the benefits of working full-time outweighed any negative on our lives.  But - if I'm going to spend some of my time away from my children - it needs to be worthwhile, both financially and from a career growth perspective.  It's not okay with me to leave them for "a job."  And, I also require some level of flexibility.  Without those things, I'm out.  After four years in the same job (a job I do really like at a University for which I'm passionate), I was feeling the need for growth (okay - I've been feeling that need for the past year).  So, I began to try to create new opportunities for myself.  In short, the stars aligned, and I began a new role about 3-4 months ago.

Why do I mention this?  Well...be careful what you ask for, kids, because this new role is incredibly demanding, and I was continuing to carry on with my old job (new hires take months in a University setting).  And, I never had a typical 40 hr/wk job anyway (remember my "career" comment?)...so my typical schedule the past few months has been something like this:  7:00-8:30 get household ready and take AG to school; 8:30-3:00 office (I do leave everyday at 3 to pick up AG from school) which is generally comprised of back-to-back meetings; 3:30-8:00 spend time with AG, fix dinner, any household errands, bathe and put AG to bed; 8:00-11:00 work some more.  Sprinkle in a bit of work-related travel and some nights/weekends events, and there you have it.

We also have our house on the market, as we hope to find a place with more space.  And, to top it all off, we bought a new car (which wouldn't be worth mentioning except it was more of a process that it should've been).  So, just when I would think I'd have a Saturday morning to relax, our realtor would call and say we had a showing...which is great, right?

The net net:  I've been pretty tired.  And, toward the end of my pregnancy, I don't think I was sleeping more than an average of 5 hrs per night, between been mentally charged and physically uncomfortable.  Basically, I was too tired to sleep.

It wouldn't be fair if I didn't mention that I wasn't alone in this.  My husband is incredibly supportive and makes possible all that we do.  He also works hard and is an incredible father.  That said, women (at least in my household) still bear the burden of most of the domestic duties (note: I do have a bi-weekly cleaning service, without which I would be nuts).

Labor/Delivery/Hospital Stay/Etc:

I delivered AG at 37 weeks after my water broke.  Long labor story I won't recount (you'll note every woman has a "story").  By 37 weeks with MK, I was DONE.  So, when at 39 weeks I was still pregnant, I couldn't go into labor fast enough!  On 2.10.11, I woke up at 5 a.m. feeling "different."  But, I wasn't sure, so I went in to work; I left a noon.  I then high-tailed it to the car dealership where I was scheduled to pick up my new car at 4 p.m. that day; it wasn't ready any earlier. GRRRR....but I didn't have time; at this point, I knew "different" was likely labor.  

Next stop:  Quizno's to get a sub.  Here's a tip for all you pregnant ladies:  The hospital will not give you any food until after you deliver.  And, if you have a long labor (which I did with AG), you will be HUNGRY and have very little energy (other than adrenaline) to complete the task at hand. So, inbetween contractions, I took bites of my sandwich.  There are some negative consequences of said actions, but still a good decision, I think.

I got home just in time for my water to break.  Uh, sweet.  I called my husband and then my OB, who suggested I come into the office.  We did so; doctor sent us to the hospital.  Here's where I had deja vu.  I guess my body's MO is to break water and then do very little else.  Very slow to dilate.  So, nurse Bonnie (bless her) suggested I get an epidural followed by a round of pitocin to speed things along.  Sounded good to me; I wanted to meet this baby!

The next few hours were great.  Husband was at my side; I had the drugs and was watching some TV.  Much, much different experience than with AG (thought I'd die in pain with that one).  Note to self:  If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.  After about 8 hrs of this, I start feeling very different; lots of back pain, chills, etc.,  And, feeling ready to "push."  Nurse called in - she checks things out to confirm I'm ready to push (I am) - and her face falls.  She says, "I think this baby's breech (feet first)."  Uh - nobody has every mentioned this very important fact to me before.  Doctor called in.  Face falls.  Same conclusion, only he looks very concerned.  We must get baby out now ('cause baby is coming OUT, and in the wrong direction) via C-section.  I look at husband:  he now looks concerned.  But - let's do this.

To the OR - about 10 people there - why does it take so many?  Anesthesia team can't seem to get me "numb," so they try a crazy cocktail of drugs, which finally work.  Of course, the result is I can't get comfy, feel like I'm going to puke the whole time (which is hard to do, by the way, when you're flat on your back and strapped down), am shaking and at one point, feel like I have an elephant sitting on my chest.  I didn't say I was going to spare details.

The hardest thing about a C-section, I've decided:  You don't get to hold your baby when she arrives into this world.  They whisk her away after a quick glance; I didn't see her again for some time (20 min?).  During that time, I was in and out...but something else was going on.  There were some afterbirth complications (I'll spare you the details) that made things pretty hairy and will impact any future decision to have children.  Let's just say that it was a blessing in disguise that I had to have a C-section, because I would've had emergency surgery anyway.  Poor husband was trying to divide time between OR (where I was beginning to get freaked out) and nursery (to check on his new daughter).  Such a bizarre experience.

In the end, MK is worth all of this, and we're both doing incredibly well.  But, my husband and I are still annoyed that through 9 mos of prenatal care - and nearly 12 hrs of labor in the hospital - no doctor or nurse ever realized MK was breech until she was almost out.  Subsequent doctors visits have confirmed she was breech all along.  Let's just say this makes my analytical lawyer husband very, very annoyed.

First Few Days:

Totally bizarre.  I fell in love instantaneously.  No need to say anything more about that.  It's just a feeling like no other.  I was honestly worried about having the same feelings for MK that I did for AG.  No problem. I'd lay down my life for both of them, and I feel like that isn't a strong enough statement.

Because C-section is surgery, a pretty different after-birth experience.  More hookups (code for:  didn't get out of bed for more than 24 hrs after birth); more meds (code for:  loopy).  What was the same:  visitors.  Now, let me be clear:  I love my family (I include my husband's family in this statement), and I know I need the help and support (especially with AG at home).  But, I'm a fairly private person in many ways (you wouldn't know it from this post), and I really value the alone time I have with my new baby (and my husband).  My family doesn't see it that way.  So - I pretty much has around-the-clock visitors while I was in the hospital.  The good news is that I was able to keep it down to those closest to me (grandparents of MK; my sister; etc.), but I don't know that I had more than a couple of hours alone.  I missed that.  Again - I love and appreciate all of my family - but I'm just being honest about what I missed.  My sister, on the other hand, delivered her second child in Charlotte several days later (crazy, huh?) and - coincidentally - had a good bit of alone time.  And, she would've much preferred it the other way around; different strokes...

Anytime family is brought into the equation, stress is also introduced.  So, without going into detail, let's just say during the first few days, there was some minor family "drama," as we were all sleep-deprived and on edge.  And, people's feelings are easily hurt.  But, between the painkillers to take the edge off and the historical knowledge that "this too shall pass," I was able to shrug most of it off.

Emotional Roller Coaster

I referenced this earlier.  So, over the past week, I have felt all of the following:

• Extreme love.  Love for my children.  Love for my husband.  Love for my mother for staying to help in any way she could.  Love for my father and husbands parents for wanting to help however they could.  
• Gratitude.  Could I be any more blessed?  Forget all the stressors of everyday life; the only thing that matters is this family that my husband and I have created.  I couldn't ever ask for anything more.  In fact, what did I ever do to deserve this?
• Pure joy.  I've cried tears of pure joy as I look at my baby's face.
• Sheer exhaustion.  My child things it's cool to sleep all day and stay awake all night.  My husband has to go to work, and I'm nursing, so guess who's up all night?
• Defensive.  One evening, in particular, my husband and I got into a pretty big argument after he made a comment that I took the wrong way.  Took 24 hrs for us to really talk to one another again.  That leads me to...
• Medicated.  Pain-killers are no joke.  Started taking Percocet in the hospital, which I'm pretty sure contributed to 99% (additional 1% thanks to hormones) of my defensive mode in said argument.  Developed what I think was an allergic reaction to it, so switched to Vicodin.  Also no joke, but feel much more "normal."  I've tried to stop taking, but pain is also no joke, so I'll likely finish out the prescription (a couple more days).  This, of course, means no wine that I've been wanting so badly.  I'm sort of over it, but again, the pain...
• Annoyed.  Annoyed that people don't understand I just want to have some alone time with my baby.  Annoyed that I'm up all night.  Annoyed that I have a house showing tomorrow that I need to prep for. Just annoyed.  

The good news?  All those negative feelings are so small compared to the love and gratitude and joy.  This is an experience I wouldn't trade for the world.

I hear MK waking up.  AG will be home from school in an hour (by the way - I can't drive for two weeks - pretty interesting), so I have a little time to dote on my baby before the circus begin-:)

I'm sure this post was mundane and long to those of you reading it.  But, it's really for me.  I want to look back and read about this experience.  I'm going to try to document the first few weeks of this baby's life (in terms of my perspective and experience).