3 months

my itsy bitsy baybee rolled over today! from back to front! oh.my.goodness. so that leads me to this post.

macie turned 3 months old on the 30th. 3 whole months. where did that time go? i know some people are thinking "gosh lady. she's onlyyy 3 months. it's not like she's walking or something." but THREE? really? i have loved every second of it. but it seems like those first few months, no matter how hard you try to remember everything, you're so tired and trying to get into a routine, and blindly doing whatever this tiny little person dictates, that you forget. you're so busy trying not to die of sleep, that you don't memorize every little detail like you want to. how small did her feet used to be? how did she look laying on her tummy, with her tiny little butt up in the air? i've already started to pack away some clothes. *tear* she still fits in 0-3, but the newborn stuff is too small. it just seems like you're so busy offering food and clothing and maybe even the hubby as sacrifices for TEN MORE MINUTES OF SLEEP and before you know it the baybee is smiling and cooing and then ignoring your cell phone calls and driving with the music too loud! gah!

this month macie is so much stronger. she lovesss to be held upright. she has pretty great head control and just looks around. she has discovered the tv and thinks it's awesome. she has also discovered her hands. best.invention.ever. they serve as constant amusement. she stares at them, licks them, noms on them. a perfect toy. that is always here. heaven. or that's what i think she thinks. macie rolled from tummy to back at 2 weeks. this was solely a rebellion against tummy time. she did it a few times since then. but nothing consistent. she still has a MAJOR bone to pick with tummy time. whoa. as soon as i put her on her stomach all hell breaks loose. "how DARE you place me on my stomach? lady, you move me and you move me now. or suffer the consequences." the consequences are incessant screaming until i pick her up. i'm not too concerned, because she does have good head and neck control. about 2 weeks ago she started "talking". you can see her really thinking about it. trying, trying. and then "ah" or something along those lines. (brilliant. i know! can you believe it? i should probably get harvard medical school on the phone, right?) once she hears it she just grins. like, "wow, was that me? sweeeet". she'll go back and forth with you when you talk to her. sooo cute. she has fallen in love with her mobile, now that she can see it. she also lovesss to watch riley. she just follows him around the room with her eyes. her love for attention is becoming apparent as well. ME ME ME. look at ME. she's learned that if she yells, someone will come look at her. as soon as you look at her she just smiles. tricky little thing. she's in size 1 diapers, and like i said, still in 0-3 month clothes, and some 3-6 depending on the brand.
oh! i'm going to risk jinxing myself with this one. because i want to be able to look back and remember how lucky i was. macie is a champion sleeper. riley was, too. naps are iffy. we have yet to find a consistent schedule. she seems to be a fan of catnaps. she can sense when i am about to put her down. not when i do, when i am ABOUT to. and she wakes up. and stays up. every once in awhile we get a good 2ish hour nap in. we're working on it. at night she has her last bottle around 10pm. and...(here's the best part)...sleeps until 5 or 6ish. girls need their beauty sleep.

and i'll leave you with some pictures! because who can resist such a cute baybee???


people are lucky i don't have a gun in my car

maybe that's a little harsh..no, no it's not. seriously! doesn't it seem that whenever you're in a super big hurry to get somewhere (because of your own laziness and lack of punctuality of course) that you are surrounded by the world's WORST drivers. maybe they just follow me (kind of like how i attract crazies). there's the "i'm going to drive exactly parallel to your car so that, no matter how fast or slow you drive, you CANNOT get around me" driver. and the "i have my seat leaning so far back i can't see over the wheel, but it's ok because you don't need to see to drive" driver. oh, and the "i'm so old i'll probably die before i get to my destination and should be the poster-child for mandatory drivers tests every year after 80" driver. god! so really the world should thank me for driving unarmed. because otherwise i would likely be in prison after failing to convince a judge and jury that my murderous highway rampage was justified. whatever, they were all bad drivers, too. maybe i should just keep a dry erase board in the car so i can write mean, condescending things to people as i speed past them glaring (and likely using a few choice words that i am hoping are not macie's first). i could write things like "oh! i must have missed the drivers ed class where they explained that you figure out the speed limit by looking at that weird sign with 2 numbers and subtracting 10". i might have to shorten that one a bit..


damn the rsv

Oh how I miss the outside world. And apparently will for a long time. We just got home from the hospital with Macie yesterday. Not fun. Riley was sick last week. So I kind of saw it coming. Wednesday the 20th Macie was a little sniffly. Nothing bad. Thursday she was OK. Until Thursday night. She started to have a hard time breathing. I took her respiratory rate. It was varying between 65 to 80 breaths per minute. Too fast. This was at about 7pm. So I called the on-call doc. He was a little concerned and told me that if she started to retract a lot while breathing or her resp rate stayed around 80 for 20 mins or so, we had to take her to the ER. Well, her resp rate calmed down a little (60s) so we were told to hang out until morning and take her into the office. After dropping Ry off at my grandma's, I got Macie to the office at 10:45. The nurse checked her oxygen levels and she was sating at 93%. The doctor came in, listened to her and told me to hold on a second. He grabbed another doc. GREAT. That doc listened as well. They said they'd be right back. MORE GREAT. The first doc came back and said we were going to be admitted to Children's. AHHH. He did an RSV swab and had us come into his office. At this point I am starting to worry. He gets on the phone with Children's and tells them her oxygen levels, that she's retracting when breathing and he wants her admitted right away. He told them that she's really struggling to breathe and he doesn't think she can do it much longer and he doesn't want her to crash in the ER. WHATTT??? OMGOMGOMG. Children's asked if they should send an ambulance (at this point I am ready to vomit in the office) but the doc felt we could get there fast enough. Needless to say I was ushered out of the office with strict instructions to go straight to the hospital. I have no idea how I even got there. I got Matt on the phone and could only muster "meet me at children's now". My head was spinning and I felt like I was going to pass out. I have never been so scared in my life. We got to triage at Children's and they checked her oxygen, now down to 89%. They took her from me without even asking her name or any info. They took her to a bed and immediately got her on oxygen. Matt got there a few minutes later. They started an IV and drew labs (poor baybee) and figured out her oxygen support. We got up to a room about 6pm. The hospital was at max capacity. This is the hospital that I work at, so that was comforting. I know the standard of care and some of the staff. Luckily we brought her in when we did. In babies RSV can get really serious really quickly. She remained on oxygen until Monday and we didn't get discharged until Tuesday. It was so sad to see her like that, hooked up to machines. I know there are babies that are much much sicker. And I am thankful that she didn't get to the point of needing more support. But it still sucks to watch your baybee poked and proded. And feeling like crap. RSV is really common and everyone likely gets it a few times during cold season. However, our airways aren't as affected because they are larger. When babies get RSV they really struggle because their airways are so small already. I'm just glad to be home with both of my baybees. It was hard to not see Riley for those days as well. Matt and I were pretty much going on fumes, alternating between home and the hospital, never wanting Macie to be alone.
I thought we were being cautious because of cold and flu season. We've obviously been avoiding anyone who is sick. We avoid places like the mall. But I guess sometimes it doesn't matter. Riley is like a walking petri dish since he started preschool in the fall. Oh well. I guess I can't live in a bubble.


Dear Baby Weight. We're Over.

At least I want us to be.
You see, with Riley I gained a lot of weight. Like 50 lbs a lot. And on my 5'2" frame, it was even more. I was not that cute pregnant girl. This time around, I only gained 19 lbs. I was sick the entire time. Like, vomiting sick. Like oh.my.god.i.am.going.to.die sick. Thank you, Macie. As a result, I lived off of white rice, pretzels & sprite (survival) and only gained 19 lbs. I was closely monitored by a perinatologist due to my bicornuate uterus and baybee was always growing fine. Anyway..the only place I gained weight was in mah belly. I got all the "oh you can't even tell you're pregnant except for your stomach". (With Riley I got the "ohhhh. you look...nice? no really. you do" Yeah OOOKKK. So I looked all cute and stuff this time. Wonderful, no? No. After I had Riley I still looked like a whale. But at least I was well-proportioned. I was fat all over. I lost a little from my stomach, a little from chin A, a little from chin B etc and so forth. And slowly it came off. This time? This time my legs and face got thinner as my stomach expanded while pregnant. Weight gain was not proportional. Therefore, once said baybee was expelled from said uterus, my stomach simply deflated. But nice and flat. More like..lumpy. Lumpy and stretched out. 10 weeks out, and despite breastfeeding/pumping that entire time, I don't feel like I've made much progress after those first few weeks. Everyone says how great you look (for just having had a baby). But I feel like a blimp. I still don't fit in any of my pants, and wearing maternity pants 10 weeks out is not fun or something to brag about. Problem is, I am only 3 lbs up from my prepregnancy weight. However, I am 3-4 pants sizes up. WTF?!?! How does that happen?? I understand "your body is never the same" "your hips change" yada yada yada. But COME ON. I refuse, completely and utterly refuse, to buy a completely new pants wardrobe. Especially since once my boobs release the small children they are apparently storing inside of themselves and return to semi-normal size, I will be able to fit in (hopefully) all of the wardrobe to cover my upper half. And when I was simply refusing (not completely and utterly refusing) to cave and buy new pants, I attempted to accomplish said task. FAIL. Complete and utter FAIL. Everything that fits around my waist without creating the muffin top sent directly from the devil, makes it look like I have the thighs of a 300 lb man. GAH. And the pants that fit my legs properly? Well let's just say I'd need a few extra feet of fabric because that button is no where near meeting that hole. NO WHERE. So I have two options. ONE: suck it up and buy new pants. This option also means accepting my current whale of a body. TWO: suck it up and get in shape. This option also means that I have to stop being lazy. Thanks to my current body image and aversion to spending money/looking like I have man thighs...I have decided it is time to get off my ass and get in shape. What this entails, I am not entirely sure. I've been slowly working at it for a few weeks now. (It took me 2 attempts at pants shopping to get mad enough at myself). Plus, at some point I'd like to put on a bathing suit again without making people puke in their mouths. Problem is, I'm lazy. I also have the attention span of an ant. But I am trying to be determined. Hopefully the maternity pants sliding down my ass everyday will serve as a constant, sad reminder. We shall see.


the one with the exhaustion

Miss Macie has been a crab all day. Just a crab. No smiles. Just glares. She's still a champ at the sleeping. She'll go from 10 or 11 pm until somewhere between 5-7 am. Jealous much? So what's with the crabbiness? Who knows. Riley was an awesome sleeper, too. When Macie was born I was in a panic trying desperately to remember how we got Riley on the "sleep schedule from Jesus". But alas, I have forgotten all but the important things, like the time he pooped all over me. Priorities, right? So we just went with the flow. Those first couple weeks were hell. She slept in 20 minute increments. Plus, the only place she wanted to sleep was on one of our chests. Not cool. At all. I am not someone who can function on little sleep. I need a lot of sleep. Always have. So this was my main concern (after her health and all that stuff). And..miraculously she is a good sleeper. (I'm probably jinxing this as I type). Riley, not so much. The 10 week old sleeps through the night. But the 3 year old is up every night between 12:30 and 1:30. Like clockwork. Or at least he was. After wearily taking him back to bed and cursing under my breath every.stinking.night I decided to do what every good parent does. Bribe my child. Because my displeasure clearly was not fazing him in the least. "Oh, this makes you mad? I'll do it more". On top of waking up (and waking me up), he would attempt (and often succeed) to make himself throw up. Charming, I know. So anyway, I bribed him with stickers. 5 stickers=a prize from Target. And who doesn't love Target? (We're not friends if you don't). Amazingly (NOT) he hasn't gotten out of bed at night since. The little booger is tricky. Every morning he comes down to announce that he gets another sticker. He played me good.


one time, i had another baby

so this is wayyy overdue. and mostly for my own nostalgic purposes. because riley's birth is fuzzy. except for the important parts. like holding him for the first time. and 5:44 am, 8 lbs 1 oz, 20.5 inches. and watching matt hold him and say "hi, baby". or watching my doctor use all of her body weight to pull at a t-bar to vaccum riley out of my lady parts. or the 23 hours that it took for him to be born. after i went to the doctor that morning, was told i was 3 cm, went to the hospital and stayed at 3 cm for, like, ever. or how my epidural made me a beached whale, that had to be rotated by 2 people (hotttt). and riley's massive conehead that i prayedddd would subside eventually. or how matt ate sandwiches and roast beef while i couldn't eat anything. or how my iv and epidural both took two attempts. and how i puked up gray stuff. oh and the horrible back labor that prompted the doctor to stand next to me, pumping stuff into the epidural that doesn't usually go in there. hm, i guess i do remember a lot.
soooo without further ado, i give you...macie's birth story!
more vaginas and spraying bags of water than you ever hoped to encounter.
let us travel back in time to the end of october. 10.29.09 to be exact. macie's due date was 11.19.09. i had been saying for weeks that i wasn't going to make it to my due date. i have no idea why. i just didn't think i would. maybe it was because i thought i would die if i had to throw up daily for that much longer. anyway. the morning of the 29th. i woke up to contractions (which i had been having irregularly for weeks). oh and blood. yay. i got excited until i timed my contractions. they were like every 8 mins. then every 10. then completely irregular. so i went to work that afternoon. at about 5 my contractions started to hurt more. around 6:30 they were every 4-5 mins. so i went home. butttt it was almost halloween. and we hadn't carved pumpkins yet. gasp! so i stopped at the grocery store to get a pumpkin (because the ones we had from the pumpkin farm were rotten). then i had to go to walgreens to get a carving kit. none to be found "my god people! im in labor! find me a damn pumpkin carving kit!" no luck. so i went home. and found a stencil on the internet. matt asked if we could just carve pumpkins tomorrow. i think i responded somewhere along the lines of "no, you fool! we're not going to be here tomorrow! gawd!" so matt and ry carved pumpkins while i paced and made sure i had everything i needed. by now the contractions were pretty painful (have i mentioned yet that i'm a giant baby?). i knew i couldn't stay at home too long because i tested positive for group b strep and needed iv antibiotics during labor. so we took ry to my dad and stepmom's house. we decided on a middle name (evelyn) on the way to the hospital. we were lucky we had picked a first name a few days earlier.
we got to the hospital around 8:30 or 9. now, i'm not going to lie. i figured i would get there and they'd be all "ohhhh look at you. you're already 8 cm (or at least 7)" nope. 3. 3 f-ing cm. i forgot how much labor hurts. plus i'm a big baby. with riley i didn't really go in with any expectations. i got an epidural because, again, labor hurts. this time i told myself i was going to try to do without. at least for as long as possible. an hour later i was asking for an epidural (by asking i mean begging through gritted teeth). i think i was about 5 or 6 cm when i got the epidural. i love when they come to make you sign the forms. "sooo you could get a really bad headache. or have some spinal damage. or you could die" and i'm all "I DON'T CARE. THIS SHIT HURTS. I AM WILLING TO RISK DEATH BECAUSE, WELL, THIS SUCKS". i give sooo much credit to those girls who can give birth naturally. it's just not me. after thanking jesus for the gift of epidurals, i relaxed. my ob was actually on rotation at the hospital that night. good planning, right?
macie was doing wonderfully. good heart rate, movements, etc.
my water partially broke. yes, partially. you will soon understand how i know it wasn't all of it. this time my epidural was wayyyy better. i was still able to move quite a bit. much less whale-like. much less embarrassing.
have i mentioned the super cute resident that was assigned to me? well, he was super cute. everytime he came in, matt would say something like "he's weird". and me, being the sensitive, loving wife that i am, would be all "why? because he's super hot? and looking at my vagina? yea, that does equal weird"
then i made the super cute doctor fall in love with me. this is how it happened. he decided to check to see if i was fully dilated yet. so he went about doing so. then. then. the rest of my water popped and sprayed in his face. does life get any better than that? i think not.
anyway. i started pushing around 2 am. macie was born at 2:36 on 10.30.09. way easier than riley's birth. macie was also only 6lbs 15oz. 21 inches. she decided not to cry when she was born. totally fun for me *not*. her initial apgars were a little low because of tone and lack of crying (she is presently making up for it). they had to give her a little oxygen and she perked up. her second apgars were great. they did watch her a little more closely because of the group b strep.
i think that's about it.
aren't you glad you read that?


Sooo..after lurking for awhile, I finally caved and created my own blog. I figure it will be an outlet for me to maintain my sanity and put my sarcasm in writing for all to read for all of eternity. That's a good thing, no? I also plan on using this as a way to record the children's milestones. I'm pretty much an all-around baby book failure. So maybe this can supplement. Plus, why shouldn't I make my ramblings available to all? It would be selfish to keep them to myself.

Anywho, some background information. My name is Erin. I am a 24 year old, married mother of two. My husband is Matt. My son, Riley, is 3. My daughter, Macie, is 10 weeks old (TODAY. squeee. Because only I care).

I will be entering the last semester of my bachelors in health care administration. I am looking into ways to get my RN license. I am not sure if that will be through an associates degree, or a direct entry masters program. I currently work as a pediatric phlebotomist (drawer of the blood). Who doesn't love me?

And now onto the bane of my existence (well of my existence today): breastmilk. Yes, that is correct. Breastmilk is the bane of my existence. Breastmilk and all that goes along with it. I did not breastfeed Riley. I know, devil mother. Killer of children. Feeder of poison. I pumped for a few weeks. And that was that. I was fine with my decision. With Macie I was determined to breastfeed. DETERMINED I say. In the hospital she didn't latch well. And it hurt. "But it's not supposed to hurt" BUT IT DOES. I want to cry while my daughter eats. How fun is this? But I pushed through. Enter high bilirubin levels, blood draws, bili blankets (rant for another day) and formula. Apparently formula is supposed to bring the levels down. So out I went to sell my soul for a breastpump. Expensive? Yes. Annoying? Yes. Exit first week of life and exit high bilirubin levels. Re-enter pain. Eventually the pain did lessen. Enter inconsolable crying. And not just "oh the baby is crying" but "oh the baby is SCREAMING and I want to scratch my eyes out". Sometimes I felt as though she screamed to mock my attempts to console her. Sometimes I cried with her. Then I realized she hurt. Her stomach hurt. All the time. You know that crazyyyy mom that calls the pediatrician's office all the time? That was me. Like "Ohhh hellllppp meee. My baby is crying." "Yeah lady. Babies do that. {What an idiot. Call Child Protective Services}. So I let it go. Until I realized Baby M was either screaming or sleeping (and wimpering while she slept). So I called again. "My baby hurts." "Ma'am, you're breastfeeding. That shouldn't be happening" "BUT IT ISSSS" "Well breastfeeding doesn't cause discomfort" "Oh. OK. I'll tell that to my baby in 3 hours when she stops crying long enough to eat, only to start screaming like a banshee immediately after" "OK Ma'am. Have a good day" "Sure. All my days are good. If good makes you want to rip your hair out and consider leaving your baby alone in the house so you can just hear yourself think FOR THE LOVE OF GOD". So I did some research. I determined maybe I had an oversupply. I pumped an ounce off before nursing. The only difference was my frustration level. What's more fun than painful nursing and a constantly screaming baby? Painful nursing, a constantly screaming baby AND pumping while your baby screams. I also cut out dairy, "gassy veggies", spicy food, and, well, all food. No difference. Sooo I called again. "Ma'am that's weird. I can't imagine why that would be happening. (Unless you're punching your kid all day)" "BUT IT IS. IT IS HAPPENING". So I went out and bought baby poison aka formula. I'm all for breastfeeding. Really I am. I think I gave it a damn good try. Short piercing my eardrums so I couldn't hear the screaming, I think I tried everything possible. So I did the only other thing I could think of. I gave my baby formula. (judge judge judge). And.....it worked. The very next day my demon was replaced with a baby. A real live baby. One that smiled. And opened its eyes. OHMYGAWD. This is how the other side lives. Macie looked around as if she was seeing everything for the first time. Because she was. For five weeks all she had done was scream. And thrash. And claw. And scream some more. Since then I have been pumping. JOY OF JOYS. Until yesterday. Yesterday I gave her a bottle of half formula, half breastmilk. And...baby in devil form. Coincidence? I think NOT. Booyah stupid nurse from pediatrician's office! Yes, I derive joy from proving others wrong, even if it makes it sound like I am glad my breastmilk makes my baby sick. Point is, I was right and to me, that is what matters. So, in short formula=exorcism.