Then...

After I wrote this post on Tuesday, Mr. O-man and I had another long night: more coughing, more crying, more restless sleep.

Then...

Wednesday was a day spent on the couch with tissues, juice and me doing the best to console a very cranky, sick little boy. Thank goodness, Mook got home at 7 that night (he brought me flowers and made me dinner--brownie points) and he took the Wednesday night shift of getting up with O-man.

Then...
 
Thursday morning, with no improvement and what I felt was a worsening cough, I asked Mook to call the pediatrician to get an appointment--no more messing around. My momma-bear instinct just told me something wasn't right. I left for work hoping I'd come home to a solution for the "sick-ick"

Then...

About 3pm, I saw a blocked call come up on my phone. I never answer blocked calls. Except I did this time. It was the pediatrician...she spoke slow and calm, and I knew that wasn't a good sign. "JJ, I'm so sorry to have to tell you this, but your son and husband are in an ambulance on the way to the hospital."

Then...

I thought I might collapse. All I really remember in that moment is this loud buzzing noise in my head and my heart feeling like it might burst. I frantically tried to figure out how I was going to get to the hospital--I wasnt sure how to get there from where my office is, so my boss graciously got in his car and had me follow him there. On the way, I clumsily dialed numbers...choking into the phone that I was on the way to the ER.

Then...

Running into the waiting room...waiting for someone to tell me where to go....seeing Mook holding him as the nurses were frantically getting him hooked up to oxygen, getting his temperature as they asked us a million questions.  Waiting for answers...watching Oman slip in and out of a conscious state.  Not being able to do a thing for him but hold his hand and wait....

Then...

Being told he had RSV and a bacteria infection that was affecting his red blood cells. We wouldn't see a lot of improvement right away...he was very sick...he was severely dehydrated and would need an IV...watching four adults wrestle this little toddler who was fighting us with all the strength he had left as the monitors and tubes were being attached.

Then...

There is so much in between that Im still processing...some really dark, scary moments. But even in those really dark moments, our friends and family were so amazing that I am just speechless.

Then...

We were sent home...lots of care instructions and with knowledge we had a battle still ahead of us.

Then...

I was back at the ER...but not with O-man...with Mook. The night we got home from the hospital, he started feeling really crummy...by the next day he had a high fever, sore throat...and coughing up blood. Thank the heavens my parents were here to stay with O-man...


Flu.

Yes, he had the flu shot. No, he will never get the flu shot again (this all coming from him...as this is the 2nd time he's ever gotten a flu shot, and proceeded to get the flu)

Then...

Just to throw a little more excitement into the mix...this morning, my dad and I had to rewire a faulty switch that could have caused just a *tiny problem. (*huge understatement)

Now...


I'm tired. That may be the understatement of the year. I'm also incredibly thankful...things could always be worse. But I'm so, so, so hoping they only get better from here....please allow me share this little bit of wisdom: take nothing for granted. Hug your babies, your dogs, your cats, your wife, your husband, your bunny rabbit. I have never felt anything like that fear. I don't ever want to again.
 

these are the days

Back when we were going through treatment, and waiting for the day we would be parents, I remember sitting in the empty room that is now Oman's room and thinking about all the things I would never complain about when I had a baby.

One big one that always upset me when I saw other mom's complain about, was the late nights and tough days when their kids were sick. I vowed to never ever complain. I would welcome those late night, the soothing and the extra TLC.

------------------

As I cradled Oman in my arms for the 8th time last night about 3:30am after he woke up screaming from his awful case of croup, I cried right along with him. I felt so helpless that I couldn't do more to help him ...I was exhausted from the interrupted sleep, but all those tears were shed while I smiled. As I sang "Twinkle, Twinkle" to soothe him, I remembered standing in the dark under very different circumstances not long ago and thanked the heavens I have this amazing little boy to take care of.

I caught myself at the grocery store this morning when the cashier noticed Oman's puffy eyes and runny nose:  

"Aww you all must have had a rough night with him so sick"

I almost blurted out: "Ooooh you have no idea--Im so exhausted, I wish he would just feel better!"

But instead, I said: "We had a long night, but we both enjoyed our bonding time"

---------------------------

As I sat down to write, I definitely hit my wall from the lack of sleep...so I am in no way trying to project myself as a "my-kid-is-sick-and-Im-all-zen-about-it." Im definitely tired of the snot and the inconsolable crying, but this is all a part of my job description. The best job in the world. 

Remember you have a few days left to tell me how you are going to be better this year--and just for telling me here, you could win a $100 Visa gift card! Winner announced on the 31st!

Your First Year

My sweet O-man,

Where to even begin.

You came into our lives at 12:56 pm on February 4, 2009 and my life has never been the same...I will never forget seeing you for the first time--hearing the cry that meant you were announcing yourself to the world!

There are too many emotions swirling around in my heart and head to get it all out in a post this evening...but know this: your first birthday was spent with family, great friends, laughter, a few tears from Mommy--all happy!--and your first experience with a cupcake!

Happy 1st Birthday, my miracle boy. I love you more than you'll ever know.

"I'm supposed to do WHAT with this?"

Travelin' Circus

The members of the Jeans household are on the road to spend the week with Mook for his business trip.

To the cars passing by, I'm sure it's a bit comical to see all the STUFF we have crammed in the car--and what traveling circus doesn't have monkeys? Oman made sure that his Sock Monkey, Pierre (we've decided he's French...) made the cut for being packed.

I always look forward to road trips--and it helps that Oman is a fan of car rides. We play the Alphabet game (I usually win..hehe), talk about silly stuff, and the serious stuff--helps when neither person can leave the room when it gets heated.

Oman and I are so glad we can be with Mook this week--and a super duper added bonus is getting to see awesome blogger ladies!

And tomorrow is Mook's birthday! His birthday last year was spent getting me admitted to the hospital after I started bleeding from the previa......so to be here--with both my boys--makes me weepy and so, so thankful for the awesome care I got while in the hospital...but I'm SO glad to be on the other side...

Please leave Mook some big birthday hugs--AND he's jumped on the Twitter bandwagon--@dissident18 so be sure to raz him just a little for turning another year older before I do :)

Can you hear me cheer?

Because the victorious cry that I let out after I FINISHED O-man's stocking, was window-shattering.

Ok, maybe not that loud...but trust me, once the last stitch was tied off--I whooped and hollered and danced about the room!

If you remember, during 30 posts in 30 days in November, I said that C was for CRAFTS and I was announcing to blogland that I was going to hand sew O-man's stocking.


It started out looking like this: a lot of thread, felt and lines of instructions...





And it slowly started coming together:

But not without PLENTY of these minor set backs....



But it was all worth it--the tears that were shed because of the frustration, the finger pricks, but most importantly--the tears of gratitude that I am able to hang this stocking on our mantel this year--a Christmas wish come true....

From the entire Jeans household, we wish you and
yours a time of love and reflecting on the blessings from this year,
and the promise of what this next year holds...

Wordless Wednesday: Caption Me!

What do you think the O-man is thinking?

See today's other Wordless Wednesday participants

Show and Tell: Hole in One

On the 18th hole of a round of mini-golf (or putt-putt as we call it here in the south, ya'll) you typically putt the ball in the hole, and down the shoot it goes...into the collection bin.
(or into the ocean, as I thought as a child)

Except this time, I didn't play the 18th hole, because I needed to keep this ball.

I always go for the green one: it matches my eyes :0) This particular golf ball will be placed in a hall-of-fame shadow box in the Jeans household. For this golf ball was placed on the green of the 17th hole and rolled
ever so effortlessly into the hole.

More details must be added to this story. And if you don't believe in karma, I hope you will after I tell you this.
(I have 7 witnesses to back me up)

The O-man was getting a bit fussy, so I picked him up out of the stroller as we rounded the corner to the 17th hole. I also picked him up, anticipating what was really waiting for me.

The ghosts of July 2008.

On the 17th hole, I started bleeding. This is where I thought I had lost the O-man. The night was spent in the ER, where we discovered that he was in there, but so was a very large hematoma.

So as I held the O-man in my right arm, I placed the ball on the green, made my putt with my left hand (I am right handed) and watched as I got a hole in one on the hardest hole on the whole course. As you can imagine, I started to cry--and with happy tears, I celebrated with those 7 witnesses--who were all with me last year, as well.

As well as the important 8th member of the group...
who was also with me last year, even in my darkest moment.

Brought to you by:








Click on the chalkboard to see what others are sharing this week!

Wordless Wednesday: Grateful

Wow, so many words I could say about today's Wordless Wednesday post....being grateful. A year ago today (at approx 11:34 am) I heard the words I had been longing to hear for soooo long: "Congratulations, JJ...you are pregnant."

When the call came in from my RE's office, I let it go to voice mail. I have re-saved, and re-saved that message all year long--and its still there. I will need to play it and record it somewhere else eventually, but I listen to it EVERY TIME the little prompt says: "This voice mail will be deleted if you do not resave."

The lovely, kind-hearted, Suzy sent me the desk calendar sheet from June 24, 2008 about a week after we found out--and Ive kept that frame in O-man's room even before it really became his room. It means so much to me-and it will always remind us of the journey that began that day...

Through all the joyous emotions I felt that day, I remember having a hard time imagining I'd have a 4-5 month old by this time.

But look....


He's here...and I still have to pinch myself some days for this precious blessing.

I will shed many happy, grateful tears today.

To my precious little Ron/O-man...may you always know how blessed we feel to be your parents.

Show and Tell: Creation

On this very day, a year ago, you were only visible
under a microscope.
Today, I hold all 15 lbs of you, and thank God that you were
"born" June 11, 2008.

Brought to you by:

See what other's brought for show and tell here.

Perfect Moment Monday: June

I sent this tweet into the world on Saturday night:

"In honor of anniv (tomorrow) of the IVF cycle that gave us O-man, I read I'll Love You Forever 2 him tonight. Mascara officially ruined."

I take anniversaries very seriously--they really mean something! I did, however, promise Mook that the day we got married, he was no longer required to recall the anniversaries of: our first kiss, first date, first "I Love You"...even though I remember them and silently expect him to--kidding, dear!

So I have been waiting for you, June. Because last year I was hoping that this June, I would think back fondly of you. I do.

In honor of this anniversary, my Perfect Moment Monday brings together a time to remember, and a time to be thankful.







PS: Would you take a moment and vote in my poll up in right-hand-corner? Thanks!

Brought to you by:

Show and Tell: Band-Aid

My first Show and Tell...and what an appropriate Sunday to show, and tell...


Earlier this week I had 2 moles removed, and will have to have more skin biopsied this coming week, due to the cells coming back showing basal cell and some squamous cell carcinoma. I was given strict instructions to change the band aid every 4 hours....so I had to dig deep into the depths of my medicine cabinet to find this:


It's amazing what can trigger memories. This large box of Band Aids sat on my bedroom dresser for IVF #1, our FET, and then for IVF #2. After each shot, out came a band aid--and Im guessing I took over 200 shots over the course of all those treatments. Can you see the wear-and-tear on the corner? That's from when I threw the box across the room afer IVF #1 failed...

Wow, I just had to take a moment and re-group.....because I am looking at the box sitting on my table, right next to where O-man is sitting in his bouncy seat.

I remember MANY times wishing that those band aids could cover my heart; stop all the aching and pain I was feeling. Some days were just too much. One of those days was Mother's Day 2 years ago...right before we started IVF #1. It's ironic to me now--I had a Harry Potter reference even back then--and how O-man came to be known as Ron!

Today is a Hallmark-Day...just another day on the calendar. Women: mothers, aunts, daughters, sisters, wives, should be celebrated every day. And of course I have a special place in my heart for the women on the path to expand their families-- THESE women are the strongest, most admirable women on the planet! That's why I loved Liv's idea of OMG You Rock Day! My rockin' OMGYRD partner, IF Optimist, sent me these lovely items:

A rockin' CD of tunes that make her happy, a fantastic home made card, and a beautiful dragonfly necklace.

So as I celebrate my first "Mother's Day" I am certainly grateful for my sweet, precious O-man. He is a long awaited member of the Jeans household--and I will never take today for granted. To all those that are celebrating today, squeeze your little ones extra tight. To all those waiting...I wish I could give you a band aid to ease the pain-but know that you are very much in my heart today...


Brought to you by Mel's Show and Tell. Click to see today's other participants.

College Freshman

Remember what the toughest thing about your freshman year in college was?

Was it:

Meeting your roommate?
Choosing your classes?
Deciding which fraternity party to attend?
Which sorority to join?
How to get out of Intro to Calculus?

Those are all tough...but what about the under appreciated but valuable: time management

I never quite believed anyone who told me that. What could be so tough about it?

I quickly learned that it was essential to my survival! Learning to write a paper on the days where I didnt have class instead of sunbathing in front of the dorm, or going to the library instead of watching The Real World marathon. And once I got it down, I was a pro. I was probably more organized than a college student should be--I look back and wish I had been a little more carefree at times--not worrying if my day didn't go exactly how I had it listed in my planner.

So here I am again, learning the importance of time management. No, I don't spend my time watching reality TV marathons (although they come in handy at 3 am when a certain little fellow is hungry), but I'm learning the art of balancing LIFE.

Im currently enrolled in:

Intro to Poopy Diapers
The Art of Burping
Soothing a Fussy Babe 101
House Management
Reintroduction of Romance
Finance in 2009

and my favorite...a literature class:
To Return to Work, or Not Return to Work? That is the question...

The time management struggle started the day I got admitted to the hospital: it meant that I would be starting parenthood behind the curve--simply because I hadn't gotten everything organized and put in it's place--I wasn't done nesting. And it felt like freshman year all over again--I wanted to become a PRO again at balancing all these new tasks in my day.

It sounds so trivial and almost silly to even type, but it's the truth-it has been a real mental battle for me to learn that all life's little puzzle pieces weren't going to fall into place each and every day: and that it's OK if they don't.

Ive stressed for weeks that I havent gotten to blog, and that all my blog buddies would think that I had reached the end of my blogging days...which is so not the case. So that stress had to fall into the lesson of time management: I would get to it when I could, and that was OK! And I have to laugh, because as I sit here typing--I am sitting on the couch with the O-man asleep on my chest--this is multitasking at its sweetest.

And life moves at warp speed most days, and I dont even get a chance to look at my daily planner (yes, I still have one) It's amazing how much time can go by just sitting on the couch, while I cuddle this precious gift.

I really do appreciate all of the comments and thoughts on "My Girls"...we made the decision that was best for our family, and we've made it work. The O-man is doing well--can.not.believe. he will be 2 months next week! We've had to take him back to the pediatrician twice in between these monthly appointments due to the abundance of vomit that was landing on me and our couch. Poor guy has inherited his daddy's acid reflux issues...so we've had him on some meds for the past 2 weeks, and he's doing better--just means more frequent feedings for us, since we have to reduce the amount he gets at each feeding. But he's not having any growth issues-he's almost 11 lbs!

And life in general is finally leveling out--I am almost caught up from what I didn't get done before O-man got here--including the nursery! The piles of papers, laundry baskets and other misc tasks are being taken care of...but only when Im not spending precious moments with my 2 boys. I know I need to treasure all of those moments. The piles can wait.

My health: slowly but surely getting the energy back. At my post partum checkup everything went well-all my girly parts are back in place, and my OB said I could "return to normal activity" I have to continue iron pills for 6 months to get my anemia under control. He cleared me to do what I needed to do to get my back feeling better--I think Im going to stick with exercise and accupuncture for now. And about 2 weeks ago I had to go to an alergist--I was breaking out in a rash on my hands: turns out Im allergic to lanolin.

As far as those classes Im currently taking-some days I feel like Im barely passing..and there are some days I'd honestly give myself an A+...so there again lies the balance. Im sure Ill be touching on each of those more specifically over the weeks/months to come...but the final exam is coming up for that literature class: and I don't know how to prepare for it. D-Day is April 1st (how fitting) and that's this coming week. I don't know how I can go back, but I also don't know how we can make it on one salary. Big dilemma.

I have enjoyed starting out my Saturday blogging--I think I'll be brave and go ahead and give myself an A+ for the day!

My girls

This is the inevitable boob-feeding post. Please feel free to skip. BUT, if you have input-read on people, read on...


I've always had a love-hate relationship with "the girls"...I was one of those people that middle school girls hate, and middle school boys loved. I started wearing a bra in 5th grade--albeit, it was a training bra, but still. I was a hurdle-jumper in middle school, and they helped me win a few races. They also made it incredibly painful to be on the track team period. I have YET to find a sports bra that is comfortable. Yes, Ive gotten a few extra looks from the male species--BUT most of the time its unwelcome. And right now, Mook gets a pure death-look if he even LOOKS at them wrong. God help him when he even accidentally brushes up against them...

Anyway...I know you know where Im going with this. I have another love-hate situation with my girls. I am thankful that my milk has come in, and that it is providing O-man with the nutrition he needs. All signs point to A-OK: he's gained and is gaining weight, he meets the required poopy diapers in a day (good grief, its hard to count poopy diapers--and even pay attention to the color) and other than the occasional spit up, I think his tummy handles it well.

Hoooooweever....Im in serious discomfort. To recap briefly: my milk was delayed coming in b/c he came at 36 weeks, so we HAD to supplement with formula those first few days. I had no problem with this, as I knew we didnt really have a choice. And until I had enough supply, we were still having to give some at home that first week. Now I have been able to give him strictly breast milk after pumping.

I have attempted and re-attempted to put him to the breast: we've done the lactation consultant, the SNS, blah...blah...blah. Let me give my son props: he's a champ at adjusting--he has no problem going back and forth between natural nipple and all the bottle nipples we are trying--he's even got a fair latch. But his little mouth and my blistered, fissured nipples do NOT get along. Not to mention, Ive got an inverted lefty.

So..I just came to terms with doing the pumping....with a far off dream that I may be able to strictly breast feed eventually. But THOSE thoughts are becoming few and far between, because even pumping is becoming hard. Not that it wasn't hard before, but: I am in so much pain. I get these shooting pains in my breasts and nipples for about 10 minutes after each pumping session, Ive got constant fissures and 2 blood blisters on my left nipple--(Ive tried tea bags, the lanolin, airing them out....) And I always feel full, yet even if I pump for 20 minutes I get the same amount each time--so the pain sets in. And the sound of the pump: enough to make me want to gag.

Im this close to throwing in the towel. Let me just be completely honest here, OK? My body is tired. Really, really tired. I have no problem saying I have been to hell and back recently. I would NEVER trade even those dark days to give up having O-man here. Never, ever. But you know that saying, "When momma aint happy, aint nobody happy?" That's what Im worried about--that PPD will really start to grip me because I am having nonstop thoughts about breastfeeding and how I will damage my child if I stop, and Im going to give into formula because I just can't hack it, and we will have to spend all this money to have formula...the list goes on. Not to mention the pumping equipment clean up. Mook and I had our first "parent" blow up this morning over the stupid clean-up of pumping equipment-I was in tears, and he was in the silent treatment mode. Everything is fine now--we worked it out--but it just reinforced my "I WANT TO QUIT" mind frame...

We have his 1-month (yea dude, ONE month) appointment this Wednesday, and I plan on discussing it with the pediatrician, and I may give the LC one more call to see if there is anything else I can do about my nipple issues and boob pain. But does it really come down to keeping my sanity? Is it something I just need to suck up and deal with? I just don't know that I can...I need to start feeling some sort of healing process within my body--it's really playing with my mental state of mind. I dont worry about the bonding issues, because I spend plenty of time cooing and talking with him during the bottle feedings and after when we just stare and study each other=)

In our society, we are told not to quit, and when we have the slightest inclination to do so, we get the: "Carry on! Persevere! You can do it!" speech. I dont want to quit when I see that satisfied look on his face. But even now, as I look at the clock and realize its time to "hook up" again, I just want to cry...

Boot Camp

1) Did you know that "bottle" is really spelled "boddle"?

2) Did you know when you put the letters L-O-W-E-S and T together, it spells "lowest"?

3) Did you know there is no such thing as a "schedule" when it comes to a small human being known as a baby?



Ahh, it feels good to be writing...of course I have wanted to write every day since this precious little boy came into my life, but he's had me focused 100% on Baby Boot Camp from day 1, and my body has needed my other 100% to recuperate. That's a lot of 100%...

• That first week: I say this with all sincerity-no matter fertile or infertile, it's damn hard. Hardest week I've ever lived through. ALL worth it, but I matured in ways I never knew possible in those first seven days. As I said a few weeks ago, I don't know how I would have had a chance in Hades to make it through without the help of my stupendous mother and loving hubby.
  

• My boobs as a food source: Ok, I admit it. I had a romantic notion of this whole breast feeding thing. I just figured: how hard can it really be? Ha...ha...ha. Goodness. Of course my milk didnt come in for a good 4 days, due to O-man coming early--so we did have to supplement in the hospital. I saw a lactation consultant each day we were there-we tried the SNS (hooking the small tube to my nipple to get him to latch), different positions, and all that STUFF. He's actually never had a problem wanting to latch or "root" but the little booger is a chewer...and his mouth is still small. Ow. So for the past 3 weeks, I've tried nursing off and on, but it just STRESSES me out each time I think of putting him to my breast...the pain is just so severe. So I've been a pumper. And while its definitely NOT ideal (having to wash bottles and equipment multiple times a day) it does help me a) know how much he's getting, b) lets Mook help and c) I feel like we are bonding BETTER because Im not crying in pain each time he needs to eat. I did go back to a lactation consultant earlier this week--she was very nice, and we tried to come up with a plan. I tried it for 2 days...still not working. Even though his latch felt better, I was STILL having to pump after he fed--I've had no supply issues. I want to be able to give him breast milk for as long as possible...but I think about quitting every time I hook up that freakin' pump. One day at a time for now. She did tell me it was OK to have 1-2 cups of coffee a day, so for that, I will be forever grateful!
  

• Our lab and O-Man: She's definitely curious! Yet another part of "the book" that I didn't believe would really be an issue. But...she has since eaten another bar of soap, gone through my trash can, AND gone into the nursery trash can...yea, peanut-butter poop on the couch is not fun to wake up to at a 5am feeding. We will also need to replace our neighbor's swing they let us borrow--on our first outing as a family, little miss lab decided to eat the stuffing. God, I love her-but we don't need a rebellious "toddler" and a baby in the house. The dog crate has made a reappearance, so she will be crated each time we leave now until she starts to RE-learn.
  
  
• My recovery: Hard...but each day helps. Im a bit scared about what is going on with my back-so I really hope with time and a good chiropractor that things will start to improve. As of now, I have gone to my acupuncturist and gotten some leg exercises to do to help strengthen my back as well as a needle treatment. Ill be able to see a chiropractor after my post-partum check up in a few weeks. My incision is healing well--I had to sleep in a recliner for the first week and a half, so getting back into bed felt sooooo good. I slept better, and just being next to Mook again was so nice (it had been a LONG time!) I've lost most of the fluid--still cant wear my wedding rings, but my feet are no longer Fred Flinstone size! I am actually back to my pre-pregnancy weight-just holding onto that fertility-treatment weight. I'm not concerned with the weight--this has just actually helped my back a bit more. AND I've shaved one of my legs! Yea, you read that right: just one. I've gotta take it one leg at a time...its taking some time!
  
  
• Having an IVF baby in the time of "Octo-Mom": Interesting. I definitely look at O-man and thank God each day for the miracle of IVF and for the blessing he is to us. I just hate that anytime fertility treatments are put in a bad light because of bad decisions and where life is put in jeopardy--these children will be the ones to suffer. I just cant stand the thought of government getting involved...hell, I know that as crazy as it sounds, I wouldn't have turned down having 4-5 transferred (NOT IMPLANTED) back to give us a chance at having Oliver. So I do not condone her life decisions...but I don't want to be judged either for having made my fertility decisions. Just a hard situation...
  
  
• O-Man: I love him. Plain and simple, but it encompasses so much. I am amazed and thankful every day: even in the exhausted moments! Not to jinx anything, but he truly is an Oliver: PEACEFUL. He's so good natured. I love watching him...he makes these sounds like Pee-Wee and it just makes me giggle. I may be a terrible mother, but I laugh most times even when he's throwing a fit--not to be mean, but I just love everything about him. Don't get me wrong-hearing a screaming baby can stress anyone out, but I try not to let it get to me. Can't tell what color his eyes will be yet, but they are so inquisitive--he furrows his brow a lot like he's trying to figure out where the heck he is. He makes this adorable little O-FACE when he's hungry. Mook and I have both been peed and pooped on numerous times, and the worst is when it lands on our face or mouth. Yea. Not pleasant. O-man can poot with such force that it scares HIM. Just makes mom and dad laugh! His cord fell out last Friday, and I cried HARD. To me, it was that last little piece of "something" connecting me to Oliver's birth...and how much that CORD kept us connected--through all the placenta issues. Hormonal much?! He's about 7lbs 4oz and his jaundice is getting better each day. Still has that full head of dark hair! He has yet to be introduced to a pacifier: Im not against it, just nervous that once he has it, he'll need to have it...thoughts?
  
  
• Life goes on: It does. And it goes fast...he will be a MONTH next week. There are still bills to pay, taxes need to be finished, sleep needs to be had, meals to be eaten, friends to keep up with. I do a little each day-and try not to let it get to me at the end of the day if I dont get a list checked off. Like this morning: I had every intention of staying up after the 6am feeding to get things done, but Oliver and I ended up back in bed-and slept until 11. And that's OK. I am a person who NEEDS sleep...I cant do anything to change it. No amount of caffeine will ever be enough. So I follow the rule of sleeping when he sleeps as much as possible, and try not to let guilt creep in. A productive day includes doing anything more than just pumping, feeding and changing diapers! Im even trying to have dinner ready when Mook gets home--just call me Suzy. Im also thinking of so many of you out there in blog land: babies due soon, painful times, celebrations, medical procedures, waiting...and I think of you each day. You WILL see my comments of support again soon!
  

Whew, if you've made it through-thank you! I am really going to try and not go so far in between posts-but you know who's boss, and although he's tiny, I sort of have to do what he tells me. I've already been thinking about the path of this blog...and I even missed my 2 year blogaversary! Thanks for those who stopped in on the 9th to remind me! The sub-title of my blog has always been "One couple's journey to pass on the family jeans" and we have been blessed to do so...I want to continue writing about our journey. I know the audience will shift, but I will never forget or neglect the path we took to get here. I'd like to stay here in this place where I have made such a home--I hope those of you who want to stick with our journey will continue to do so, and that this will still be a place for those dealing with infertility (esp male factor) will come to read about the hope that exists with the help of fertility treatments. O-man, Mook and I will always be grateful for the community that has opened its arms to us, and we will always give back what we have received.




1) We kept a feed-journal for a few days, and in my exhausted state, I wrote boddle instead of bottle-Mook just roared in laughter.

2) There is a new Lowes Home Improvement commercial out, where they are showing the letter "T" after the Lowe's sign, and for the LIFE of me, I could not figure out what the commercial meant--so I asked Mook one night to help me figure it out. Obviously, it spells "lowest"... I think he almost called the doctor--he was a bit concerned. I just felt stupid. Ahh, much for brains

3) O-Man is the boss. There is no longer JJ or Mook control in the house.

One Week In

Loooooooooong sigh....

That loooooong sigh encompasses SO much.

Bliss, love, terror, tears, euphoria, sadness, fullness, loneliness...all felt to the tilt.

To look over to my right and see that I have a week-old son, just fills me with so much emotion that I can't even begin to explain.

Where to even start...I will definitely post the "Birth Story" to cover all the nitty-gritty, so we'll save that for next time.

First, let me thank my mother and Mook: having the support and help has meant more to me than I'll ever be able to express. Not having total control of my body has been hard on me--not that I expected to jump up the day after the c-section, but it's been tougher than I expected. Like, how to sleep at night. How to get up after sitting in a chair. How to put my pants on! We finally decided to move a recliner into our room so I could sleep in the same place as Mook-I've really needed to be close to him, and since I cant get in and out of bed quite yet without help, at least we are in the same room.

My mom has just been fantastic: not only for the "taking care of baby", but for taking care of JJ. I've definiiiitely had the hormone fluctuations--a lot of crying and self doubt about this new part of this journey. Feeling like a milk machine and nothing else. Worried about Mook wanting to spend time with me. Scared that my body will never heal. Wondering if my feet will ever stop swelling. Being able to openly cry and get it out without feeling crazy with a capital C has helped so much.

And of course sharing in the many GOOD things: watching Oliver's facial expressions, hearing him burp like a champ, cooing at him during our cuddle time, smelling and feeling that baby-skin. Feeling his hands touch my face is beyond surreal, and I'm forever grateful for those 10 tiny fingers...

So needless to say there is a lot of adjusting going on around here...

• We were BOTH discharged this past Saturday--he actually got "his papers" before me! Unfortunately, I had to go back on Sunday--my swelling and back pain were truly unbearable. The fact that Im still having back pain post-O Man means some investigative measures will need to be taken after a few weeks. Right now, thank GOD for pain meds...
  
  
• Working on a night-time routine--Mook is a great help. We are still figuring it all out, and probably wont ever have an exact science. My milk came in good and strong only yesterday, so we've had to do a combo routine with my milk and supplements. And since little man's mouth is still a bit small, pumping is the way Im going for now-it was becoming WAY too painful
  
  
• O Man is sunning during the day=) The fact that he did NOT have to have any NICU time is a blessing--we do have to do some home-remedy to keep him growing: keeping his billirubin in check, and making sure I feed him every 2 hours--he lost about a pound in transition, so we have to keep him fed and tan!
  
  
• Men could never do this. Good God, a woman's body goes through so much-it's worth it--really it is--but dude.

• And I miss you all...no need to explain further. I just really do...I owe so many emails and thank-yous, and some phone/text messages. Please know EACH one has helped me so much. As MUCH as this is a joyous time, it can feel lonely too--and I cant quite explain that one yet, but I hope that makes sense. I'm working my way through all of it...

My ding-dong-milk-alarm just went off, so I must obey--but THANK YOU, THANK YOU for all your good wishes and welcoming "Our Jeans" that we have loooonged for. Remembering that my blog started 2 years ago (thanks for those anniversary wishes too!) is an amazing thing to think about...

Lots and lots of hugs from this household...