Boy or Girl?

One of the most exciting things during your pregnancy is finding out if you're having a boy or a girl. For me, already having a boy, I feel like I'm a boy-mom at heart. I've never really been super girly, grew up as a tom-boy and I don't even know how to paint my toenails and couldn't braid my hair if I tried.

I mean most girls watched movies like Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast--princess movies--but my favorite movie was Beetlejuice.

I know. I suck at being a girl.

But needless to say, when you get pregnant, you have no choice on your baby's gender. It's all based on who's the fastest swimmer.

SO anyway, I had my second sono scheduled at 12 weeks. Since it was so early, but I was almost out of the first trimester, I was unsure whether or not I would be able to find out what we are having.

Everything I read online said at that time during your pregnancy, the boy and girl parts look pretty much the same. It wouldn't be until week 13 or so that they really start forming enough to be able to tell what it is.

But at the sono, the sonographer said she was 95% sure what we were having. Klay was unable to come to the sonogram because he was working, so I asked her to put the gender in an envelope for us to open together when he got home.

Little did I know that we'd have a surprise waiting for us in that envelope.

I was determined it was going to be a boy.
Klay thought it was a boy too.
And, we both actually wanted another boy. Plus we have everything for a boy.

But when I pulled out a pink card that said it was a girl, my mouth fell to the floor and my reaction was "oh shit."

I mean I'm an emotional mess about 95% of the time. Could you imagine adding another female like me to this household?

OH LORD.
It would be batshit crazy.

Don't get me wrong; there are plenty of great things about having a girl. We would have one of each and experience both sides of the fence (boy and girl). Girls have the proms and the weddings and all of the fun dress-searching activities. I was a cheerleader (which is the only girly thing I really got into) and softball player growing up, so I'd love to do all of those things with a girl. But I feel like girls are more emotional than boys. I mean we are the ones that get a monthly gift once a month that puts us in a foul and funky mood.

Honestly Klay and I were a tad bit disappointed it wasn't a boy. But the sonographer did tell us that it' was so early, she could be wrong so "don't buy anything yet."

We told our families and everyone experienced that same reaction--shock--but some were especially excited it was a girl. I had to tell them they'd have to wait to purchase items for the baby until after our 20 week sono confirmed it.

Though I wasn't 100% sure it was a girl, my mind was certainly adjusting to the idea of having a girl. And when I was pregnant with Brody I had a ton of options for girls names and very little for boys. So I was excited that I felt it would be a lot easier to choose a name for a girl. Klay and I had a girl name picked out for about 7+ years or so and it's always stuck with us.

The more I thought about it, the more I adjusted to the idea of having a girl.

So here we are; I'm 20 weeks pregnant and had my sonogram yesterday.

The main thing we want is a healthy baby. With my constant nausea, my high blood pressure, anemia, and the low PAPP-A hormone, which could mean my placenta could start to give out and I could have this baby sooner than my due date, I just wanted this baby to be healthy.

And from the report from the specialist doctor I have to see regularly now (and have regular sonos), this baby is on the right path. Healthy looking spine, brain, heart etc. That makes me feel much much better! Check out this video that confirmed it!

Yep.

For

8 weeks

we

thought

girl.

Because of that 12 week sono, I wasn't going to be surprised to hear girl, but Klay and I saw the little boy parts and we were surprised once again!!

Now, back to the drawing board on boy names. This kid will probably be born with no name. Seriously. Boy names are hard! I found out I was having a boy when I was pregnant with Bro at 11 weeks (due to a blood test that's 99% accurate) and I didn't finalize his name until 27-28 weeks.

But we are so excited that everything looks to be on the right track for now. The specialist doctor reassured us that there is 85% chance everything will go OK and the placenta will stay strong til the end, and there is a 15% chance that it will start to weaken before I'm full term. That made me feel a lot better. And my doctors are monitoring me closely to make sure that everything goes as it should.

If only I could kick this nausea to the curb...

Because of all my sickness and issues this pregnancy, I have a feeling this boy is going to be TROUBLE! Only time will tell.

Until next time,

PART Two: That Time I Found Out I Was Pregnant

Read "That Time I Found Out I was Pregnant" first.

Brody @ 9 weeks

WTF is right. 

Now wasn't exactly the time I wanted to be pregnant.

We had just moved home. Yes, we were married for four years at that point, but we were living at my parents' house trying to find us some new digs.

But this meant I got knocked up in parents' house, as a married woman, and I'd be searching for a home with a deadline now; I'd definitely want to be in the house before the baby was born.

In shock, and after his "WTF" moment, Klay and I sat on separate couches and didn't talk or touch for 20 minutes. We'd done enough of all that.

We were stunned. We couldn't believe this was really happening.

I called my sister bawling. She calmed me down and assured me things would be OK. She guessed it before I ever said anything. Not sure how she knew. Well, I'm guessing the crying tipped her off.

We decided we were going to tell Klay's parents first. Their excitement would take away some of my worry when I told my mom and dad.

Yes, I was worried about what they'd say because we were living in their house, looking for a new place to live, and this wasn't exactly planned. Plus, now we had a time constraint to find the right house for the right price and move in and prepare the baby's room all in a matter of months.

I decided I wanted to find a cute way to announce it to both our parents. Klay's parents were up first.

My PLAN: Put a few balloons in a box and give it to his parents. When they opened it, the balloons would float up and say "Baby" and/or "Congrats" so they knew they were going to be grandparents.

And then, I thought, I'll get a plain balloon and write "Baby On The Way!" Genius, right?

I know, people do this all the time now for gender reveals, but this was waaaaayyyy before I got on Pinterest and became a pinning-whore. So at least I thought it was "genius."

Klay and I go to CVS. I'm still a complete basket case, and I nervously purchase three balloons, hoping no one we know sees us.

Here are the balloons I bought:

1. "Congrats" 
2. "Baby"
3. And a plain one

I asked the fella that worked there for a marker and I wrote on them (while they're not inflated).

On the "Congrats" balloon, I write "grandparents" underneath the word "Congrats".

Then I started to write on the plain one.

Our last name is White for those you who don't know.

I'm a nervous wreck and scared someone we know will walk in and see what we are doing. So I'm trying to get this done as soon as possible.

I thoughtlessly wrote "White Baby On The Way!"

The guy who is about to blow up the balloons is Hispanic. He looks at it confused and looks up at me, like WTF?

Then it hit me.

"Oh. Oh, no! White is our last name," I shouted trying to rectify myself.

Klay laughed at me as the guy shook his head and went to blow up the balloons.

#lastnameproblems

The last balloon I corrected and wrote "Baby White on the way!"

Either way, it was true. Baby White was on the way and we were having a white baby.

At least, we hoped Klay was the father.

HA! I kid, I kid.

Needless to say, his parents got a good laugh and everyone else at my expense.

We did the same thing with my parents except I put the right wording on the balloons this time so it didn't look like I was announcing the color of our unborn baby's skin. Um, I can only imagine what that guy thought when he saw my balloons...

PS. My mom and dad were happy when we announced it to them too. All of that worry was for nothin'...

And that's how I handled finding out I was pregnant.

EPIC FAIL.

Do you have any mishaps when you tried to announce you were knocked up?

Brody's Birth Story Part 3

Read part 1 & part 2 first.

Soon after our first few wonderful hours together, Brody was off to the nursery to get examined, poked, measured and watched by daddy, who was standing with a camera in hand eyeing Brody and his nurse's every move; he wasn't going to leave his side any time soon.

Meanwhile back in L&D, I was getting the treatment--getting cleaned up via sponge-bath which made me feel much better despite still experiencing the migraine.  Before I realized it, it was midnight and I was beyond delirious.

I had a new visitor--my dear friend Cami. She arrived just after her shift ended at work--Dodie's Greenville--, and bumped into Klay at the nursery.

"Brody's so cute," she said as she sat down and asked how I felt. The light was dim in the room to help ease with the sensitivity to light from the gruesome headache. Honestly, I don't really remember much of our conversation because I was so exhausted and OUT OF IT. I remember talking, though it could have been about politics, baby Jesus, who knows?



After Cami left, my nurses prepped me to move to a room upstairs. Lauren and Brandy, my two nurses of the day, were truly spectacular. I'd gotten so attached to them I was crazy sad to move upstairs. I felt like they were sending me off into the wilderness to fend for myself. It was almost as if they were my parents sending me to live in a new home with a new family. At least that's how I felt. They guided me through the most incredible, scary, up and down rollercoaster ride of my life and I didn't want to let them go. Through my labor I discovered one was from Forney and even got her contact info to meet up. I was attached.

But it was time for me to take my leap, start walking on my own and for them to let go of me, wave goodbye and let me  figure this thing out called motherhood. But I was so afraid that my next nurses wouldn't take as good of care of me as they did. But if they were so great, surely the hospital has more great nurses right? WRONG.

After our move to our newest digs, the nurses brought me my baby boy. I was so eager to hold him despite my exhaustion. I didn't mind feeding him, I was just happy he was with me; I didn't want him out of my sight.I looked back at Lauren as I lay on the portable hospital bed, grabbed her hand, and shifted my focus to Klay who was walked beside us.  Whisked me out of L&D, we were on the move, I closed my eyes opening them to only see glimpses of walls and florescent lights that skated above me.



While I was holding Brody once more, I felt my nausea resurface. Looking at the new night nurse in my room, I said "Get me something I'm about to get sick. I'm about to sick. Take him, take him." She just stood there looking at me like I was speaking a foreign language. Maybe I was? Thankfully, Klay stood up took Brody from me and handed me a hospital barf bag. Why they make those bags so small?!?

After getting sick again for the millionth time, I started to dose. Every three or so hours people would come check my BP. Then, my nurse came in and said my oxygen levels were low. Down in L&D, they'd put this thing on my finger which is supposed to monitor my oxygen levels. Well prior to delivery, Brandy (my L&D nurse) had trouble getting a good read on my finger. I'd gotten the shellac or gel nail polish (navy blue) and it wasn't reading through my nail. So, after trying it on my toe (which had gray polish), and that didn't work, they moved the monitor to my ear. When we got upstairs, they placed it back on my finger.

I told the new nurses this a thousand times, but they didn't listen, they continued to ignore me. I kept dosing off intermittently between nurses shuffling in and out of this tiny room.

Around 4 a.m., a specialist came in to check on me. I told him through the oxygen mask--feeling sort of Darth Vadarish--that'd I said 500 times to check it somewhere else but no one would listen. He simply took the clamp, opened it and turned it sideways so it was on my skin rather than the nail, and voila! it was normal. Thankfully that was the end of that.

We were eventually moved to a third room later that morning. Brody's tests were coming back normal with the exception of one--his jaundice test. With rising jaundice levels higher than normal,  we were going to keep good track of it, which meant more pokes and blood test on this heel of his foot.

Despite everything, he seemed to be taking to my breast well and everyone told me I was doing a great job breastfeeding. The lactation nurse even told me my milk was coming in. I was hopeful. I had this dream that I would be the mom that traveled everywhere with her kid in a baby bjorn, popping out the boobie when he got hungry like his very own milk vending machine. I was going to be the source of his food. It was my responsibility to be his one-stop shop for the goods. That was me, the milk-making mommy machine. I could see it.

What an idiot, I was...

Brody's Birth Story Part 2

Read Part 1 first...

Simultaneously, my sister and Klay say, "WHAAAAT? Wow. In two hours!"

"Now I want you to push." 

WAIT, SAY WHAT NOW?

I didn't take any classes. I don't know what I'm doing. All I'm hearing in my head is Bill Cosby singing "Push 'em out, push 'em out, waaaaaay out!" I did literally think about grabbing Klay's bottom lip...(Those of you that have seen Bill Cosby Himself will understand that one. Side-note...it's hilarious).

With Bill cheering me on, and using what I'd seen in movies, I just pushed hard.

"Look at that head right there," the doctor said to Klay. Klay looks and smiles. It's 8:27 p.m.

Britney is filming, which at the time we didn't know we weren't supposed to do. Meanwhile, mom and several others wait in the lobby clueless to what's happening in the room down the hall.

Nervous and anxious, Britney is hollering about needing to call mom to come back. "Can we get mom? Hey, we got to get mom! Can we get her? Can we get her?"

In between contractions, the doctor declares that she's going to explain to me how to push. She starts rambling on, and while I'm watching her speak, I'm really focusing on Britney who's on the phone with my mom. Frankly, I was more concerned with making sure mom came down to the room rather than listening to the doctor's directions. Majority of the women in my family have had c-sections (at least mom and Brit both did), so the idea of pushing and having a vaginal birth was exciting to the Welch clan.

Turning my attention back to the doctor I said, "Could you explain it to me one more time?" My legs and body were shaking from adrenaline. My doctor complied, caressed my leg and said she wasn't explaining well--she was, I just wasn't listening. She was being nice.

Once I understood the directions, Mom arrived taking hold of the camera and still waiting for another contraction, she who has to pee really really bad asks the room, "Can I go to the restroom?"

Seriously! This woman has the bladder the size of a pea; no pun intended. Mom rushes into the bathroom that's in the delivery room. The nurses look around like "where is she going?"

Meanwhile, my doctor shines a big UFO-looking light down at the tiny bit of head you can see, puts on her gear (prepping like she's about to go to war or something) ready for my little guy to arrive.

Once everyone, including mom was situated, another contraction started. I began to push. I'm staring at Klay, who looks insanely nervous, as I'm trying to get some indication on what's going on down there; I can't feel a thing. Klay's legs and body are shaking as he hoists my left leg in the air. I've never seen him so nervous and anxious at the same time. The time we waited for was finally here; we were going to meet our sweet boy.

Now my legs are in some sort of contraction so no one is holding them.



"Push real hard, real hard," my doctor says. I'm pushing and then stop. Then go again.

I don't remember how many times I pushed, but it wasn't but probably only four times in two more waves of contractions.

At 8:37 p.m. I pushed and COPLOOOW, there he was--a dark haired 6 lbs 4 oz little boy--my Brody.

It was seriously the best moment of my life, when they placed my son in my arms for the very first time. Seeing his sweet little face, thinking he didn't look how I'd picture he would, and praising the Lord that he didn't come out looking like a six-month-old Hispanic boy (pregnancy dreams are crazy yall!).

I've seen movies and watched "A Baby Story," but since it finally happened to me and this was my first experience with my child, it was surreal and the most beautiful moment of my life.

Since I was going to try to breastfeed (read my experience with that here), we did skin-to-skin time, and once it was finally time to try, Brody latched on immediately and it was pure mommy-and-son bliss. That is by far the most precious moment I'd ever experienced--EVER. I couldn't believe how different breast feeding was than how I'd imagined it would be.

My perfect moment was soon interrupted by nausea caused by the magnesium seeping through my veins and the forever-lasting migraine. Brody who was nudey-pants peed on me, which I didn't mind at all, but then not even a moment later, I needed to hurl. So I was holding Brody with my left arm and getting sick in a bag on my right. 

When I watched my husband hold Brody for the first time, it washed away the ickiness I was feeling for a moment, which was nearly two hours after Brody was born (because they used that for only skin-on-skin bonding time). Klay was so happy to meet his son. I've never seen him more proud than when he got to hold him. He was in pure awe of our little fella.

I knew he'd be an amazing father, but seeing the way he stared at Brody in amazement only made it even more clear that he was going to be the best dad any wife or son could ask for. Our family felt complete.

Part 3 of Brody Jack's Birth story coming soon.

Brody's Birth Story Part 1

This is the story of the birth of our sweet Brody, but before I start let me tell you about some of my medical history. I've had high blood pressure my entire life, even as a kid. Both parents have it and my grandparents (I think on both sides), so it figures I'd be the one of two Welch offspring who'd get the trait. My sis was blessed with the better traits--tiny bod, tiny nose, no migraines, no headaches everyday, no hypertension and she even got the skinny genes. I'd been diagnosed with high BP at a young age (though didn't start taking meds until 2009-ish).

I was the prime candidate for pre-eclampsia. Throughout my entire pregnancy, my doctor was concerned and warned me that'd I'd most likely develop it. I was even a participant for a pre-eclampsia study that the hospital was conducting at the time. They had to draw blood every time my BP was up. But I got $25 for each poke! Ayeee!

Fast-forward to 30 weeks: I was working and we were about to move into our remodeled house so my stress was high. My doctor put me on bedrest. "You will have this baby somewhere by 37-39 weeks," she said. "It's too risky for you to go full-term."

Not only did I have weekly appointments with my doctor, but now I had to go to a specialist  (located in the same building thankfully) to get weekly sonograms to check on Brody's progress, ensure everything was developed before delivery and that if I had pre-eclampsia it wasn't affecting him. I did receive a steroid shot to help his lungs mature faster (and ensure they were fully-developed).

36 WEEKS: Doc said, "We will have this baby next Wednesday."

37 WEEKS, Tuesday, Feb. 21: I'm supposed to spend the night at the hospital to get some pill-thing inserted in my cervix which is supposed to help soften my cervix to prepare it for labor and improve my chances for a smooth induction the next morning. My doctor said I couldn't eat past lunch, and I was supposed to be at the hospital til 8 p.m.

We took the dogs to mom's house and while I'm sitting on the couch chatting I start having contractions (though they were braxton hicks). Klay and mom watched my stomach contracting. "We should probably get going," Klay said.

Klay was hungry and went through Whataburger en route to the hospital. I'm in a pissy mood because I'm starving and can't eat while the smell of french fries wafts in the air. Seriously, dude?

When we get to the hospital and they hook me up to machines, the nurse starts looking at the papers coming out like receipts assessing them closely. "You're definitely having contractions alright. But they aren't consistent, so are more likely braxton hicks," she said.

I asked them if I could eat, and they said it was fine since I wasn't going into labor. I ate some hospital food. It was the best damn burger I've ever eaten or it tasted like it anyway. I was just so hungry.

They inserted the vagina pill and repeatedly interrupted the tiny amount of sleep I was getting in the middle of the night to take my BP.

5 A.M.--I start putting on makeup before they took me off to the delivery room. I wanted to have some make up on so I didn't scare my child once he got a glimpse of me. They came in and prepped me to head downstairs.

6:30 A.M.--I now have my own room in Labor & Delivery. It's big and spacious, and this is about to get real. I start to get nervous.

7:30 A.M.--Pitocin was administered and I start having contractions. OUCH. Some visitors (Klay's dad, Susan and Nanny come in to see me).

9 A.M.--I'm given magnesium. This is to prevent me from seizing if my BP starts to rise. Side effects, include: headache, fever symptoms, vomiting, and a catheter pre-epidural, which means I felt it, plus it slows down labor. I immediately have a headache (which later develops into a migraine) and once the catheter is inserted and the nurse leaves the room, I lose it.

"I can't do this. They have to find another way to get him out. Not a c-section and not vaginal, I can't do this. I can't, I can't." I'm sobbing hysterically to Klay. It was all so real, and the catheter was so uncomfortable. On top of all of that, I'm burning up, feeling nauseous and having contractions.

2 P.M.-- The doctor comes in checks my cervix. OH MY GOD. OUUUUUUUCH! "This will be the most painful check of the day," the doctor says. She wasn't lying. It was excruciating. I was dilated to a 2.

She breaks my water with some sort of rod, through the tiny space where my cervix was opening. POP! I hear like a flood coming out. Britney and Klay who are in the room don't even notice as they talk to the doctor hounding her with questions. Despite me wanting to press further without an epidural my doctor goes ahead and orders one.

"You're in pain?" she asks.

"Yes," I reply.

"Then, why not? It will make you feel a lot better, I promise. I'll order it. There's no reason for you to be in pain and uncomfortable. That's what these drugs are for."

15 minutes later... A guy comes in and gives me a whole lot of info about the risks (which scared the hell out of me), how still I had to be, orders everyone out of the room and told me to sit up. I still have a catheter in, my legs and entire body are shaking from adrenaline, I've got the worst headache and I'm extremely nauseous.

I lean up clenching on to a pillow and he sticks the needle in my lower back, and BAM! it's done. Didn't hurt a bit. "That's it?" I say. I immediately feel relief. A few minutes later, I can't feel a thing.

6 P.M.--I'm dilated to a 4, not much progression. My doctor puts some device up my GOODS to try to measure the severity of my contractions. This device helped me somehow because I immediately had stronger contractions. And they were consistent and progressing within minutes. "I'll come back in a couple of hours, and if you're not close, we will talk about other options," the doc says.

So here I am laying in the hospital bed in pain with wet rags on my face, oxygen mask on (Brody was doing better with extra oxygen), but also with a migraine, throwing up and burning up (from the magnesium). I'm just hoping this kid would be pushing his way down and out of my body. After the painful cervix checks from the doctor, and putting devices up in places to monitor my contractions, I was ready for people to leave that part of my body alone (stop sticking things up there) and eager to push this kid out.

8:20 P.M.--My doctor checks my cervix one last time to see if there was any progress, (thankfully I couldn't feel it due to the epidural). "You should be something more," she said.

I stared up at her face trying to gauge her reaction. Please let me be at a 10, please Brody, do it for mommy! Gazing at her face, I thought I saw a glimpse of disappointment. He didn't do it, I thought.

Then very softly, she said, "Ten."

Read part 2 of Brody's Birth Story here.

 

Mommy Mistake = 911

Ok, guys. I've not posted lately because I've been trying to decide whether or not I wanted to blog about my most recent major incident with Brody.

I struggled with the decision to post or not to post, because of the pure humiliation and embarrassment of what happened over two weeks ago. Plus, I needed a little time to try to begin to forgive myself.

As parents, we are all bound to make mistakes. We are only human and aren't perfect, no matter how hard we try. So before you read this, I want to express how embarrassed I am to share my story. However, I chose to write about this incident because I have some dedicated readers out there (and on my best day, I had nearly 260 views on my blog from all over the world) and I do feel an obligation---a good obligation---to write about my trials and triumphs as I explore my new life as mommy.

I started this blog so people can read, laugh and share our journeys as parents. But I also decided to start this blog, because I wanted people to really learn from my mistakes. So, here it goes...

About two weeks ago, Klay and I met my mom at Walmart to buy flowers for our garden. We are no experts on plants, so we inquired mom's help. We were about to check out when Brody got fussy; it was time for him to eat. Klay told me to just head out to the truck and feed him because we had to get home ASAP to drop of the plants before heading out to Dallas for my doctor appointment.

I complied and took Brody out to the truck. I unlocked the door, put his car seat in the truck (but not in the base) facing toward the driver's side passenger door because I was going to walk to the other side to feed him.

I'd forgotten that Klay's new truck has an autostart. So proud of myself that I remembered, I started it up to get the truck to cool down a bit faster. I grabbed my bags and sat them in the truck and shut the door.



Uh-oh, I thought and started yanking on the handle to the LOCKED door.

Ok, so I've NEVER once locked my keys in my car, and the first time I do it, my three-month-old is in the backseat.

I immediately start panicking. What do I do? My phone is in the car. I can't call Klay or anyone for help. Decision time: do I leave my child in the locked car that was running, though the keys weren't in the ignition, to go get Klay and get help or do I stay there until Klay and Mom get out to the car? Luckily, I turned around and saw Klay heading out the doors and over to the car.

I start hollering at him to hurry and get over there and then quickly tell him what happened. His immediate reaction: "I'm breaking the window."

A week before, when Klay first got his truck, he was looking at the manual and found the number for OnStar. He told me, "OnStar can unlock your car remotely, if you just call this number." I said, "Put that number in your phone cause it'll be good to have."

I told Klay to call OnStar first. The car is still running, and Brody has AC, but it's not going to last forever. As some of you probably know, autostarts eventually shut off if you don't put the key in the ignition.

Mom comes out, with a Walmart associate who's helping her carry out five trees she bought, and I run over and tell mom what happened. I ask the Walmart employee if they know if they have someone in the auto/mechanic department that has something they can jimmy the car door open with. She runs in to seek help.

Meanwhile, I'm bawling and hysterical. I can hear Brody crying and I can't get to him---THE WORST FEELING EVER.

Klay gets mad because OnStar is no help, saying something like we aren't in the system (it's not a new truck, we bought it used). THEN, the truck cuts off.



I'm saying "call someone, call someone!" Mom, then, dials 911.

Now I really have the water works going. I'm sobbing and so distraught, I start throwing up in the parking lot. Klay starts looking around for a rock to break the window to his new truck, when four managers from Walmart come outside, along with a Walmart mechanic. They immediately start working on jimmying the lock.

A few minutes later (I'm not really sure how long this took cause it seemed like forever), the fire department arrives and they give it a go. Brody is now calm and looking around like what's going on guys? He's interested in watching all the people surrounding the windows trying to get into the truck.

Finally, they are successful and unlock the truck. I'd say it took them at least 7-10 minutes to get in the truck. I told mom that the whole ordeal had to of lasted 30 or more minutes, but she seemed to think it was less, saying it just seemed longer to me.

When I got in to my baby boy, he was cool as a cucumber. Smiling at me as though he wanted to let me know he was ok and not to worry.



Klay and mom hugged and thanked everyone for all of their help and rapid response. I tried my best to pull myself together to thank everyone, but I was still a mess. Felt like I deserved and earned the title as the "Worst Mom of the Year." So, special thanks to Terrell Walmart staff, managers and employees and Terrell Fire Department. We are forever grateful!!!

I did end up making it to my doctor appointment and my blood pressure was 142/108. That should tell you what kind of state I was in.

So, here I am, telling all of you about this horrific incident. I never want anyone to have to go through that. I've been so upset with myself for allowing that to happen. I could have understood if I'd been rushing, but I wasn't. It's taken me a while to truly TRY to forgive myself. But I figured the best way to start forgiving myself is to write about it and try to prevent others from doing the same thing.

As a parent, brother, sister, grandparent or friend to any child, please learn from my mistake. Every time you buckle a child in, think of me and Brody, and ask yourself "where are my keys?" If your rushing to get somewhere, slow down, make sure they are buckled in right, and that you have the keys on you at all times. Thankfully, it wasn't crazy hot outside that morning, but summer is almost in full-swing, and it's getting hotter by the day. So, keep your keys on you!

Wishing you many more successful days as parents/grandparents and no days like this incident,

Cassidy

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

First off, I'm so sorry I haven't been able to post some new blogs lately. This past week has been extremely challenging, exhausting and frustrating. Brody's sleeping and eating hasn't been the least bit consistent, and it's completely worn me out.

Due to some recommendations and Brody's tummy issues, we switched formulas AGAIN. Because a lot of people who've used Enfamil Nutramigen said it solved all of their child's tummy problems, we decided to give this formula a try. This brand is the most expensive brand of formula on the shelves, at least that we've seen. We weren't happy about the price, but if it works we'd be happy to foot the bill and bring peace to Brody's formula issues.



It seemed to be working fine at first, and Brody was having a bowel movement everyday or every other day, so I was pretty excited. Eventually, his stools became a bit more watery than I liked and his spit up resurfaced again. I'm thinking he may have a little bit of reflux, but we called the doctor and they've recommended that we try a soy-based formula, like Enfamil ProSobee or Similac Soy Isomil.



Klay bought Similac Soy Isomil, so we're starting that tonight. I'm just hoping we get a handle on this formula thing pretty soon. I don't know if I can take any more of this.

Even though today and last night was rough, Sunday night into Monday morning we managed to get a record 11 hours of sleep. We went to Klay's parents for Easter on Sunday and everyone was excited to see and hold Brody. Everyone had their turn holding him and for the five hours we were there, I don't think anyone sat him down once. It was nice to see our family so excited about our new addition.



I think after being held the whole time, Brody never managed to get a deep sleep so by the time we got home, he was completely wiped out (and we somehow managed to get 11 hours of sleep). This was a good night for us obviously.

But with the good, comes the bad. One good night for us normally means a rough night the next and then an even uglier day/night after that. So for every good day, it seems there are two to three rougher days that follow. It's hard not to get discouraged when I think "wow, it's getting better" and then the next day he's fussy, gassy and won't sleep and I can't help but think the "it's getting better" part keeps drifting further and further away. The uglier days and nights only leave me to question everything I'm doing.

I'll do my best to try keep these blogs up-to-date.

Sending everyone my best,

Cassidy

The Storm

Sorry I haven't posted for a few days. It's been chaotic around here, and I've been extremely busy taking care of Brody!

Of course, as many of you know, north Texas was hit by a dozen tornadoes Tuesday afternoon. A tornado hit in Forney, only a few miles from our home. Luckily, we are  all safe and there was no damage to our house.

Brody experienced his first storm and tornado warning yesterday. When the sirens went off, Brody, Stretch, Billie and I took "cover" in the tub. Klay stayed out and watched the TV to see what was happening in our area.



I'm the first to admit I have an extreme fear of tornadoes (I have nightmares about them all the time), and now that we have Brody, tornadoes are even scarier than before. Our first priority is making sure our child is safe, and the fact that he may be in danger is pretty frightening.  Thankfully, through it all, Brody never knew anything abnormal was going on.

There was major damage all over north Texas, and in Forney, and I'm so happy to hear there were no casualties.

The north Texas storm that wreaked havoc yesterday wasn't the only storm that caused an uproar at our house; the high-pitched, loud, screeching sounds of our baby boy crying kept us up into the wee hours. Needless to say, we had a rough, rough night.

Brody was awake for seven hours, two of which, he was screaming at the top of his lungs. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, would soothe him. He was squirming, fussing, burping and farting nonstop. I know he was gassy, had a tummy ache and needed a good BM, even though he had one Monday or Tuesday. (I can't remember which day it was because my days and nights are running together, so now I'm creating a calendar to keep track.)

Of course, seeing him in pain and not being able to fix it caused me to cry. On top of that, it was frustrating that we couldn't calm him down and get him quiet (I'm surprised he didn't wake the neighbors). That may sound bad, but let's face it, no one really wants to hear the deafening sound of a baby screaming at the top of his lungs. But more than anything, it was hard not knowing what to do. We haven't had a night like that yet where we couldn't figure out what he needs or wants. Gas drops and Gripe Water didn't even faze him.

After feeding him several ounces of formula and breast milk, he finally wore himself out, falling asleep in his swing for only three hours. After he woke up again, I got him and laid him with me and he went right back to sleep.

I'm hoping this was just a really bad night and not any sign that he may have colic.

I am happy to report that he did have a big poopy today! This was of course after I lost it and bawled my eyes out from exhaustion, stress and trying to figure out how make him feel better. Not a great day for mom...

I guess we will see how tonight goes. Brody is asleep and happy right now (see picture).

I'll try to post every day from now on! I apologize to those who checked in to see if I had blogged, and I want everyone to know I'll try to stay consistent.

Pray for all of us to get some rest. We need it. BAD.

Cassidy

Mommy Trade-Offs, When to Ask for Help & Tips for Friends & Family of New Parents

I'm not so happy to say that our seven-hour sleeping record was short lived. Last night, Brody fell asleep around 1:30 a.m., woke up at 3:30, went back to sleep around 4:30 and back up at 7 a.m. Truthfully, I didn't think the longer sleep was going to last too long. I'm still hoping that this was just an "off" night and was only just a little "bump" in our road to sleeping success. I imagine his sleeping pattern won't become incredibly consistent just yet, but I hope we can get some sort of consistency going soon. But I'm still hoping for the best for the many nights to come!

Amidst all the restless nights and exasperation, there are joys of waking up in the middle of the night with Brody. Lately, we get to see, what I like to call, little Brody "smile sessions." Seeing my little baby smile is not only one of the many precious moments that make me feel like I'm doing something right, but his beautiful grins never fail to put a smile on my face.

I think this is one of the many trade-offs of being a mom. Through the fatigue, exhaustion and many breakdowns, come these sweet amazing moments that let you know that it was all worth it.

By far one of my favorite things is watching him smile when I sing. He's the only person in the world who likes to hear me sing! Watching him smile because he likes to hear my voice, not only makes me an extremely happy mom, but it also helps keep me sane.

Here's a little peek at one of our singing/smile sessions:

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jmi7gVkzQaY&w=420&h=315]

I know many moms are struggling with sleep deprivation and feel like they might "lose it," and one of the things that's hard for me to do is admit when I needed help. I'm not really one to ask for help (or admit that I need it) because I like to prove that I can do it myself. Pediatricians and nurses will constantly tell you to sleep while your baby is asleep. But how are you supposed to do that when you need to clean, wash bottles, do laundry, shower and make you something to eat?

My exhaustion took priority over all of those things and led me to neglect taking care of myself. I was so tired that even though I was starving, I didn't want to make myself something to eat because all I wanted to do was sleep. By the time Brody and I woke up, I'd have to feed and change him, leaving me hungry and never having the time to eat or make anything. I'd go all day without barely eating anything (which probably had to do with the decrease of my breast milk).

Although your priority is making sure your child is taken care of, it's important to remember you have to take care of yourself and part of that is knowing when to ask for help.



In the first few weeks after Brody was born, my mom came over and stayed with us overnight a few times to let Klay and I get some much needed rest. Getting more than 4 hours of consecutive sleep helped restore some of my sanity. If you can't get someone to stay overnight, have someone come stay during the day and let you sleep; it will help you regain some of your energy. But remember you have to ASK for help, and LET people help you!

If you're a friend or family member to someone who's recently had a baby, cook a meal and take it to their house, help them clean their house or offer to do laundry.  Two great friends of mine came over and made a meal for lunch, helped clean my house and even made a freezer meal that we could heat up in the crock pot. Amber and her mom, Wanda, relieved some of our stress and frustration through spending a few hours of their time to help around the house. This simple act of kindness goes a long way and is truly the best gift any new parent could ask for!

Having help like this--whether it's having someone watch the baby to let you sleep or letting someone clean and cook for you--can make a huge difference through this exhausting time and give new parents a little break.

So, reach out and help someone you know that just had a baby or remember to return the favor when someone helps you!

P.S. Never forget to utilize the grandparents!

Cassidy

To breastfeed or not to breastfeed? That really is the question.

During my pregnancy, many women often asked me if I wanted to breastfeed. Before I got pregnant, the answer was originally "hell no." I'd heard horror stories about what it does to your boobs and how horrible they are after, but then I got pregnant and my answer changed rather quickly.

After seeing the effect pregnancy had on my body, my boobs were the least of my concern. But more than that, feeling my little nudger kick and squirm around in me changed things. I wanted what's best and most natural for my child, but I didn't want to become obsessed about breastfeeding. "I'm going to try," I'd respond to the inquiries. That was the truth, I had every intention of trying, but I told myself and everyone else that I wouldn't get my hopes up and become some crazy mom who would cry and get upset if it didn't work out. But by day two of breastfeeding, I'd become a liar.

Let's be honest...breastfeeding is no joke. It's tough and in the beginning the odds are really against you. A 2008 report from Brigham Young University shows "while three out of four mothers start breastfeeding, only 36 percent of them continue for at least six months," according to a NY Times blog. So naturally I didn't think breastfeeding would actually work out for me for several reasons.

1. I didn't think I'd like or enjoy it. The thought of a baby on your boob is weird to some people, and I thought I might feel the same way.


2. People told stories of how it would solidify the bond between mother and child, but I didn't buy it. I'd been surrounded by formula feeding moms and babies who seemed to have a great bond. So, I never truly believed or understood how it really could breastfeeding could create an essential, powerful and stronger bond than a non-breastfed child.


3. The baby may not take to it and learn to latch on. It's a fact that sometimes babies don't learn to latch properly or struggle with the whole breastfeeding process. I didn't want to get my hopes up.


4. People told me I'd have to watch what I eat and couldn't eat/drink certain things. If anyone knows me, they know I love to eat. I was afraid I might get tired of having a restricted diet and having to watch what I eat and drink (and medications I might take).


5. I'd heard it could be painful. Some friends told me that they stopped because breastfeeding was extremely painful and unbearable. Some had even gotten a breast infection, like mastitis. This was a little scary.


6. Breastfeeding is a lot of work for you and the baby. I didn't want to be the only person who was able to get up with my baby. I wanted my husband Klay to get up and have the opportunity to feed and help out in the middle of the night. I know me and I'd start to get resentful that while he gets to sleep, I'm still up all night with our son.

Needless to say I felt the odds were against me. But I wanted to try and hoped that we'd succeed at it.

When they first put Brody on my chest for our initial two-hour skin-to-skin time, I was in awe. This sweet little boy was so beautiful, and I wanted to do everything I could for him. So when my nurse said it was time to try breastfeeding, I was completely ready and excited to try. To my surprise, he naturally latched on to my breast and it wasn't at all weird. It was one of the sweetest and most precious moments I've experienced.

By the second day, I was eager to try to feed him every 2-3 hours and enjoy our bonding time together. Amazingly, he seemed to be doing pretty well at it, or I thought he was. We'd have our occasional struggle, and either Klay or Brody's baby nurse would help me with getting him to latch, but once he was on, he stayed on for a while. By day three, a lactation nurse came to visit and showed me all of the proper ways to hold, cradle and position him, how to get and recognize the proper latch, how to get him to stop sucking and release my breast when I wanted and taught us about proper storage, when to pump and deciding how long we should breastfeed.

While the lactation nurses were with us, they made breastfeeding seem extremely easy and nursing was a cinch. The more I breastfed, the more I enjoyed it but I'd become what I'd feared--extremely attached to it.

On day four, we had experienced our first night at home alone, and had a follow-up appointment with a lactation nurse to check Brody's jaundice levels. Unfortunately, my baby had lost too much weight, getting down to a mere 5 lbs 8 oz from his birth weight of 6 lbs 4 oz, so the nurse insisted on watching me feed. She wasn't happy with what she saw and feared that he wasn't getting enough because he appeared tired and frustrated while feeding. She said he was working so hard to get little colostrum, and in order to lower those jaundice levels, we needed my milk to come in asap. Since Brody's jaundice levels were rising and we needed to make sure he was getting plenty to eat to poop out the bilirubin, she advised us to rent a pump to help stimulate and speed up my milk-production and feed the expressed breast milk to Brody via a bottle.

The first time I saw Brody take a bottle was devastating for me. It took every ounce of strength I had to not cry while Klay fed him a bottle of my breast milk at the appointment. The idea some thing, some plastic bottle, was feeding him and not ME was completely appalling. On top of that, I'd maybe had a whopping two hours of consecutive sleep since he was born, I was completely exhausted and in pretty bad pain from giving birth. I had a hard time walking, sitting and doing everything else, and my hormones were going crazy.

After several tears that day and feeling like a I failed my first mommy test, I quickly realized giving him a bottle of breast milk was a lot easier than putting him to my breast. I still had to try to breast feed, so he wouldn't show preference to the bottle and to increase my supply, but the struggle and repetition of both feeding and pumping began to take it's toll.

There are many things I'd learned on my own about breastfeeding.

1. The images of these smiling mommies with calm, perfectly latched babies wasn't at all what I'd experienced most of the time. Sure, I did get my good and decent feedings in where Brody and I appeared like one of the moms you'd see in parenting magazines, but majority of the time I was fighting a squirmy, floppy and incredibly strong newborn who'd go nuts when he couldn't find my nipple. He'd repeatedly let go from not getting a good latch or just randomly release my breast for no reason, and I'd have to readjust and try again. The process was extremely taxing and time consuming.


2. People talked about the pain the actual feeding could cause, but I discovered there were other pains that came along with breastfeeding. During the first week of feeding, your uterus contracts when you feed and you often feel a passing of blood from the uterus (or I did) when feeding. These contractions were pretty freaking painful! There was a time they lasted 10 to 15 minutes and I was in so much pain, Klay googled to try to find ways to relieve the pain. He told me I needed to stay hydrated. After the first week, the cramps ceased, but the pain of Brody's nails digging into my boob or scratching my nipple was yet another frustration I'd have to overcome.


3. Breastfeeding is based on supply and demand. Your body adjusts and produces how much your baby needs (based on how much they are at your breast and eating). After all of the feeding and pumping, I was producing enough milk to feed a hospital nursery. But after a while, the exhaustion and frustration began to set in and I'd grown tired of fighting my baby while he was at my breast, so I just pumped and fed through a bottle. And once I was tied to my pump a few hours a day, (and having to pump in the middle of the night after feeding Brody), I began to pump less and less. I didn't know what skipping a pump session here or there would do to my supply. My supply eventually decreased immensely to only a few ounces (if I was lucky) each session.


4. The process of building back up my milk supply is hard work. To stimulate my body to produce more, I'd to putting Brody back at my breast, for skin-to-skin. Plus side to this, drink dark beer! It somehow helps you produce more breast milk, according to my pediatrician.


5. My loss of appetite greatly effected my breast milk production. After Brody was born, I was too tired and exhausted to make myself eat (plus I hardly had the time). Nothing sounded good except graham crackers and apple juice (I was really sick and vomited a lot in the hospital and that was the first thing that I held down, so I think that's why I crave that). Being sleep deprived and having my focus be taking care of my child, and because he came first, my nutrition and taking care of myself fell to the wayside. I looked forward to the 500 and some odd calories you burn with breastfeeding, but Klay had to force me to eat to make sure I was taking care of myself and it wouldn't hurt my milk supply.


6. Frustration with leaky and hard, painful boobs. While I'd begun leaking colostrum during pregnancy (at 5 months), and woke up many nights with giant wet spots around my breasts and on my sheets, continuing to have to deal with leaky breasts on top of everything else added to my frustration. And while breastfeeding, I'd be leaking over Brody if my other breast wasn't covered, or milk would drip on my clothes (even after pumping) and get everywhere. And if I didn't feed, my boobs would hurt and get extremely hard and engorged. The only relief--to feed or pump. If you are out and about and can't find a place for privacy to do either one, the pain becomes distracting and annoying.


7. Weird things happen to my boobs when my baby would cry. It's amazing what your body knows and reacts to. When Brody would cry, my breasts would leak or my nipples would begin to throb or have a stinging sensation like my body was saying "go feed your child."


8. Breastfed babies eat more often than formula fed babies. This didn't matter so much to me because of the nutrition my child was getting from breastfeeding, but after two weeks of hardly more than two to three hours of consecutive sleep, I'd do anything to sleep another hour. As time went on, formula began to seem more appealing.

Through all of my struggles and my low production of breast milk, we were eventually forced to supplement with formula. We are currently still supplementing, but it's become mostly formula now, and we give little breast milk as I'm not producing much.

I'm still pumping and I like to still have my options open on what I can feed him. I'm not fully ready to close up shop just yet!

I'll keep you all posted as this journey still continues...now I'm off to pump!

Cassidy