Just Keep Moving Mommy

So today was the first time that I ever took Bitty Boo to the Mall.  I know crazy right? That she made it to almost 9 months old without me dragging her to the mall. Haha.. ha.  I may have been a germaphobic when she was born.. I chanced going to the regular store but the mall?? NO WAY! Too many germs.

Well since her immune system is pretty well balanced, due to daycare, and mommy had a much needed apple care appointment today we decided to venture into the unknown. I’d like to make a huge shout out to my mom for coming along with us, I had so much anxiety today I wouldn’t have made it without her.

So we get to the mall, (which is about a 45 minute drive from our country town) find a parking spot in the Macy’s/Forever 21 parking lot and make our way into Macy’s Children’s Department Store. Which was probably the WORSE place for me and my mother to go to. Haha we have an obnoxious shopping problem when it comes to buying clothes for Bitty Boo. Luckily fate was in our favor and we only walked out after spending like $35.00 which is amazing considering they were having a 40% off sale.

Any who we met up with one of my friends for a bit 😀 I was so excited for her to meet the baby!! Then made our way (partially ran) to my apple care appointment. Dodging those annoying people on the way there trying to spray me with the next $70.00 perfume or trying to get me to switch from my cellular carrier to theirs. -sigh- *rolls eyes* LEAVE ME ALONE!!!

Up until this point Bitty Boo had been really good, barely fussing, just taking in the scenery. As soon as we get up to the Genius Bar she starts in and in swoops SUPER NAWNAW! Seriously, trying to talk to someone about your computer’s problems while your  child is upset is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done because the whole time you’re utterly distracted.  Trying to keep your mind on what you’re there for and not your child getting mad that we stopped moving the stroller is not easy. Finally she settles down with her sippy cup and we get everything handled.

After that we went to the food court, got something to drink, and a snack while feeding the baby.

Freyahs 1st mall trip

She was feeling much better at this point so we decided to go look at Bra’s and then some slacks. During the bra escapade she falls asleep and then as soon as you stop moving the stroller..

BAM! She’s crying at you.  All you can hear is your body screaming at you keep it moving don’t stop just go in circles if it calms her.  I mean she wasn’t even all that upset looking back at it. She was just tired and hungry, but the whole time my anxiety is just yelling at me inside my head saying, “hey stupid fix whats wrong.”

Of course my stupid self doesn’t pack enough food for how long we were gone and the baby is starving so we stop at Wal-mart to buy some of those squeezable food pouches (pictured below) and I have to say that was a life saver! For the first time all afternoon I could breathe because the baby wasn’t in any form of distress.

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I gotta say handling all of this anxiety is exhausting, but I know it would have been worse if I were handling it all alone.  My mom is amazing and she helps me every day.  Im always apologizing for not being able to fix the problem my child is having right away.  Apologizing for her crying and being upset or loud.  But my mom always tells me that its okay and you know what it is okay.  Its totally fine that my child was upset and loud, who cares if it was bothering someone.  No one seemed super irritated by it, so why should I feel ashamed of not being able to calm her instantly?

Kids are going to be kids, they cry, spit, sneeze on faces, drool, scream. However, they also hug, laugh, kiss, smile, say your name in grumpy monster voices, cuddle, and give you eskimo kisses that turn into forehead wrestling matches. (lol.)

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Sometimes being a mom is incredibly demanding, hell the other morning she woke up at 3 am and didn’t go back to sleep. She was ready to start the day. I had only 3 hours of sleep before doing a full day at school.  Sometimes it sucks when it comes to sleep, but every hour in between, every hour you spend teaching them things and watching them grow a personality is all worth it.

Just keep moving Mommy, just keep moving.

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The Ugly Truth

 

Lets be Honest here.

Sometimes you’re just utterly tired.  Exhausted.  Sometimes you just need a flippin minute. Or maybe you’ve just been pooped on or spit up on and you can’t always hold your precious little one 24/7. 

So what do you do?  You do what all parents do.

You put them down.

Yes! OMG I know!  God forbid you put your child down for a few minutes to get some mommy time.

I believe that putting your child down for a while is actually good for them, they can learn independence and how to self soothe a bit.  Every time the baby cries you don’t have to immediately rush to them.  When you hear that whine come over the monitor just take a deep breath and count to 10. Sometimes they’re just talking in their sleep. Sometimes they’re actually awake and want you to come say hello, but that 10 seconds while breathing in can help you center yourself and prepare for “turning the mommy on.”

Maybe I should explain that a bit..

Like many people I was a completely different person before I was pregnant. Before I went through 12 hours of labor and pushed a baby out of my vagina I was something completely different.

I was a party girl, a full time art student, a dough throwing pizza chick.  Literally, I worried about myself and my boyfriend of 6 years. Bills were all that ever were on my mind besides getting good grades.  So when I hear that cry come over the monitor I have to mentally prepare myself. 

Now don’t get me wrong.

I love my child more than anything in the world.  Hell I never thought that I could even have children. So the fact that my little girl is in her crib asleep right now is the biggest blessing I could have ever hoped for.  That being said, sometimes I have to push myself to be the best that I can be and prepare myself for what may come when I walk in that nursery.  

So I breathe, count to 10, and then tend to her.

As a mother who is constantly dealing with postpartum depression and anxiety those extra 10 seconds can do a world of difference for how I handle a situation.

I mean, lets face it you can go in and there will be a smile on your baby’s face and you can pick them up and cuddle the crap out of them. Give them raspberries while you’re changing their diaper and have those babies chuckling themselves into your arms before your leaving the room.  OR You can enter a freaking war zone.  Screaming and tears with coughing because she’s got a runny nose and she leaked through her diaper during nap time because teething decided to bare its ugly head one more time and give your child diarrhea. So not only do you have to calm your poopy child down who just wants to be hugged and kissed while you’re simultaneously trying to take her clothes off so that you can see exactly how bad of a situation you’re dealing with. Then once you get in there and assess the damage she’s trying to wriggle out of the diaper faster than you can get it off of her and then all you’re left with is a child dangling over the edge of the changing table because you were quick enough to grab one foot before she lunged herself over the edge. Leaving a terror of poop smeared across the changing pad.

That’s just how it is, you either have a good experience or one that’s well.. not so good.  I don’t like to call them bad because by the end of it yes you have a lot of poop to clean up but at least you can laugh about it.

Back to the point of this entire post I think that ultimately we, as parents, have to do a lot of things that we were never prepared for. Sometimes we have to put our babies down for the sake of our own sanity. If that means that I have to put her in the play pin for 10 minutes while Baby TV is on so that I can go in the next room with the monitor and just look at Facebook or read a magazine then I’m going to do it.  She’s not going to die, you’re right there within ear shot. 

Of course this goes without saying, but do this within reason (sometimes the dullest crayons in the box take things for granted and do it all the time ultimately stunting the child’s development).

So in the end I just want to say its okay, we all do it (well most of us there are those few super mommies that just “never do anything wrong” *rolls eyes*) the ugly truth is that sometimes you just need a minute.

*disclosure I do not support you leaving your child completely unattended in a bouncer/jumper/high chair or free range in the living room as injuries can occur please use the head that god gave you and be smart about the “minutes” you give yourself*

 

Sick Day (weekend) / 1 year anniversary

I started my day off like any other day, caring for lovely Bebe.  Things were going well (or so I thought) and I was off running errands with my mother when out of no where I felt incredibly sick to my stomach.

“Oh, Man I don’t think I could be pregnant..” were  the exact words that crossed my mind.

It also happened to be the first question my mother asked me.

I happen to be incredibly grateful for my mother seeing as every time I tried to stand, walk, or pick up the baby nausea struck my entire body like a bat was trying to force what little food I had been able to consume out of my being.  She was every so graciously taking care of not only myself but my 8 month old child.  When we finally got back home I crawled my way into bed and pulled the covers over my head.

Then the feeling of abandoning my child hit me like a tidal wave.  My husband was at home and doing his best to keep our daughter contained.  Apparently when Mommy is sick the only person in the world who can calm her is, well Mommy.  So we did the one thing they tell you not to do. We brought her and my husband into my room and she stayed calm (for the most part).

After hours of dry heaving and fever I then passed out after finally being able to keep ice chips down.  I woke to my daughter crying at 2 am.

My husband quickly got up to tend her and got her to go back down. I remember thinking to myself that it was strange that she wake in the middle of the night.  She usually sleeps through most of the time and has since she was 6 months or so.. I gave my passing thought little importance and passed out for a while more.

6:00 AM

Screaming erupted from my daughters monitor on my bedside table.  I rolled over and glanced at the clock, then rolled back over to look at my “snorlax” of a husband. I sat up and every muscle in my body begged for me to lay back down, but my daughters cries found a will much stronger inside that pushed me forward.

As I slowly staggered into her room a fowl odor reached my nose.  I reached for her bedroom lamp and then picked her up to hush her screams.  First thing i felt for was a temperature then a dampness soaked through my night clothes.

Poor thing had soaked through her diaper and her pajamas.  Catastrophe has struck her crib through her sheets to her mattress pad.  Well it had happened I made my daughter sick. She had caught whatever virus that I had but lackluster.  After trying my darnedest to get her out of her clothes without smearing poo all throughout her hair I cleaned her up and found a clean pacifier. We cuddled in my bed until 7 where she decided it was bright enough to be awake no matter how she felt.

My little girl seems to be a glass half-full kinda gal.  Fever? Diarrhea? Who cares! Must touch and play with EVERYTHING!!!!!

Dad continued to sleep until 6PM. (O.O)

Thats when I realized he had caught the same bug.  I had infected the ENTIRE FAMILY (well .. our side of the house my mom and dad remain untouched like the great white buffalo).

24 hours later we remain in our cave. Alive. On our 1 year anniversary both recovering. Our daughter still running fever off and on, but we have survived.  We worked as a team and I learned a very important lesson.  Its okay to let someone help you when you’re sick/dying of stomach virus.  You don’t have to be a supermom all the time and sometimes its okay to let dad be a superdad if it means getting the job done (he’s really quite good at it).

So heres to a year of marriage and 8 months of parenthood! Without my hubby I don’t know what I would do.

May 6, 2015 (Induction Day)

As I rolled over for the millionth time too look at my phone and see, again, that it was not yet 5 AM I sighed and rolled over.  I wasn’t due at the hospital until 6 AM and it was barely 2:30.  The wait was nearly over and I could barely rest up for the big day that was quickly approaching. Even though I was being impatient I was more worried about complications than anything. No matter how I felt sleep ultimately found me and the alarm that went off just three hours later was an unwelcome sound.

We got dressed and woke my mother, she and my father would be joining us later that morning.  Grabbed pillows and laptops then walked out the house.  The last time ever that it would be just he and I. When we return to this door it will be with baby in tow. I was grateful that I had already packed the trunk of the car full of our things. I practically took the whole house!

We arrived at the Hospital after the short drive to the hospital, small talk and smiles the whole way. Not fully grasping the incredulous adventure that was about to begin.  Checked in through the ER and made our way to the maternity ward where they showed us our “suite”.  The room was dark  (partly due to the fact that the sun had still not risen) and quiet.  Soon we would be meeting our little girl.

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So around 7:00 AM I got my IV and started my induction with a round of pitocin.  Labor took off quickly but not as fast as they had hoped since I was sitting at 3cm before we even started.  With each contraction growing stronger around noon they decided to break my water to get things moving.   They used an Internal monitor because jelly bean kept moving away from the external monitor and having a nurse come in every 10 minutes to find the heart beat again was getting annoying.

Before the internal monitor was put in I was confined to my bed dealing with labor by turning right and left not getting to really walk around.  The hospital told me that I had to be monitored to make sure the baby was not having any problems.  Thinking back after I got the internal monitor I could have gotten up to walk around, but at that point I was getting contractions every 5-10 minutes and couldn’t really think straight. The pain that I remember was excruciating like someone was breaking my back bones repeatedly. I don’t day this to frighten anyone but it freaking sucked. I had back labor like nobody’s business.

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At one point my uncle called my fathers phone (he was just chilling in the room with us) and asked what that sound was in the background, my father replied thats Debbie she’s in labor.

Hours Later..

I was told many a time that there was a more civilized way to give birth, but I held on as long as I could. Wave after wave until it was time then it happened after pushing as hard as I could for about an hour she was here. I was crying, she was crying, and Jeff cut the cord.

There she was this perfect little angel, ten fingers, ten toes. Hair as black as the night and the most beautiful complexion.

 

Freyah Lynn was born at 6:32 pm weighing 8lbs 7oz and 20 inches long.

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And thats how our adventure began.

Eviction Notice (April 26th, 2015)

As the months passed my belly (and baby) grew to sizes I never possibly could have imagined.  I tried everything in my power to get this baby out just a little early but she was not budging.  Day after day, weeks after weeks.

Nothing.

Finally my due date came and went and my doctor talked to me about my options.

There I was a first time mom and being given the talk about induction.  Being the Type A person that I am this entire pregnancy (and our future) had been planned down the T.  From how I was going to give birth to the type of diapers we should be using.  I even calculated the last details of how to make home made baby food, or breastfeed in public.  I read every journal or book on what to expect when you go into labor.  However, that was the last thing my body would do is go in to labor on its own.

This was NOT my plan.  I do not like being out of control of my body and here I was clearly NOT in control.

Its like she wanted to stay in forever! (large and in charge @ my baby shower below)

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I tried everything to convince my doctor to let me go into labor on my own.  I mean I was dilated 3 cm and effaced 90% how much longer could it take for my water to break or contractions to officially start? Every week I would go in to see my doctor and he would again urge me to induce.  I kept gaining weight and was retaining more water than a whale. In three weeks I gained 15 lbs. The doctor grew worried that the baby would grow so large that I would be forced to have a C-section. Which was 100% completely against my plan in every shape and form.

2 weeks.

Three weeks of off and on labor and I folded. Tired and exhausted, bed ridden except when I had enough and tried a few more times just to get her out. Walking around, jumping or dancing around. I sat on my yoga ball for hours counting the contractions just for them to get 30 minutes apart and stop for another couple hours. It was frustrating and utterly exhausting.

“Fine, we can induce but Im still going all natural. Please don’t change my birth plan.”  My doctor sighed at my persistence and called the hospital to set my induction day for May 6th, 2015.

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(next to where Freyah was born on Induction day)

First come baby then comes Marriage

With everything that was going on in our lives, together we decided that it was time to get married.  We had been together for almost 6 years and put off the wedding for numerous reasons. Cold feet, family deaths, even just arguing and thinking that we weren’t ready.  However, with a baby on the way in my heart I felt that it was important that we be married when she arrived.

In the state of Texas if the parents are not married when a child is born proof of paternity is required to put the father down on the birth certificate.  I felt like it was a bunch of hassle just to claim paternity when we both knew the baby was his.  Any who so we talked to our families and decided it was time then set a date.

Around this time we found out the sex of the baby and took engagement photos/ maternity photos. (Best two in one photo session ever)

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January 17, 2015 would be the day that I married my best friend; the father of my child.

I remember the day like it was yesterday.  Normally my little jelly bean would have been stretching and kicking away.  Never resting a moment or giving me a breath.  However, for the first time in weeks I woke to no pain in my joints. Freyah moved enough for my heart and mind to know she was there, but did not pain me in any way.  It was as if she knew this was the day that I had be waiting for since the day her father asked me to marry him some years before.  So at six months pregnant I put on my wedding dress and married the best man I could have ever hoped to fall in love with.  As I walked down that isle with parents on either arms I saw him standing there with a look on his face that I’d only seen once before. The same smile was placed upon his face as when I told him we were pregnant.

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There was of course some family drama, but realistically what wedding doesn’t have that?

Fast forward a couple months.

Looking back I felt silly for even worrying about my pregnancy considering that I only had mild complications.  When I looked down I no longer could see my shoes, instead I saw a big round belly. With only a few weeks left I find myself complacent.  The last days of pregnancy, sometimes considered agonizing, are a distinct place in time.  An in between stage of being neither here nor there.  One foot on the edge of pregnancy another teetering into the ocean of motherhood.  Some people refer to this as the, “Time of Zwischen,” or the time of in between.  Although I had not gotten my footing yet I knew that within those next few weeks I would eventually emerge on the side of motherhood.  With no real knowledge of how to be a mother besides the love that I had already been containing.

This whole experience had been a revelation of all sorts that left me with more questions than answers.

 

The scare…

 

As I looked at my reflection I felt broken and disembodied.  Like there was a force trying relentlessly to drag me from within myself.  Disoriented I turned on the water and started rubbing the blood from my hands. It was only until I gained full consciousness did I realize that I had tears streaming down my face and repeatedly said, “no.. No… NO!”  The other women in the restroom looked at the scene mortified but stood back and waited in line patiently for the sink or toilets trying to keep themselves otherwise occupied in reply to my unhinged appearance.  I thought back to the moment that I realized that I was holding a child within me, excited and inexplicably startled by the unplanned event in my life.

Returning to reality I was now standing in front of my drawing professor trying to spit out that I had to leave while being discreet, but every girl in the class had already seen my outburst in the restroom.  He told me to leave, of course, and to not worry about anything until I was better which was more than I thought I would ever get from a professor.  However, I was losing it.. her.. him.. the baby.  I rushed to put my stuff together and to call my mother to pick me up from campus. Then I called the doctor. Everything seemed to blur together. Almost like I was living someone else’s life.

Instead of receiving the comforting words of a doctor, the nurse answered. She told me to go home, put my feet up and drink some water. That there was nothing I could do to stop the inevitable if it were to happen.  At 10 weeks I was losing the most precious gift that I had ever been bestowed in my life, at least thats how it felt.  That night my mother and my boyfriend didn’t leave my side.  I cried out to God, pleading him to give me a chance to prove that we were worthy of being parents. My mother held me and brushed the hair off of my face and wiped the sticky tears from my eyes.  She was at a loss as to what to say or do.  We waited for what seemed a lifetime for the sun to rise.  As the day became new the bleeding subsided and we had made it through the worst night of my life still whole and intact was our little miracle child.

This scare was  only two weeks after our first sonogram and I wasn’t due to go back to the doctor until week 17.  It scared the hell out of my husband and I, but we are all the more thankful for our beautiful daughter.  After receiving a full work up the doctor gave us the chance to see our beautiful baby one more time to check the growth and heart beat. Thats when we decided that the worst part was over and to announce our pregnancy publicly.

the announcement

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The Beginning

I guess to start off I would have to say something about myself.

My name is Deborah.  I am a first time mom, 25 years young and married to the love of my life.  My little ones name is Freyah and she is about to turn 8 months in a few days.  Im just a woman taking each day one diaper at a time.

This is our story.

After finally come to terms with the fact that we might never have a real family the way we always planned fate reared its head and changed our lives for ever.

Goodbye Cancer. Hello Baby.

 

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I jumped from the toilet and ran bare-assed into the restroom across from mine where my boyfriend of six years sat reading on his “throne.”  With fear in my voice I stated, “umm.. Honey, were pregnant.”  He looked back at me with a look in his eyes that I shall never forget.  Vigorously astonished to the fact that we never once thought we could conceive after the last crazy six months and yet here we were parents in the making.  Tears welled in my eyes, for I thought forever to be a well sucked dry from upon the moment I were born. Never to bare the true identity of being a woman.  That was the moment I truly fell in love with him and realized that a tenderness, that had yet to be born, reached around the edges of my heart and permanently glued old broken pieces together again.

This was the beginning of the rest of our lives.

Waiting the long 8 weeks until we could go to the doctor to confirm my pregnancy was the most anticipation I’d ever endured. Our little bean was growing fast and strong, but fear plagued my mind. I worried that my previous illness with cervical cancer would endanger the baby. That I wasn’t strong enough to carry such a burden.

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But I was strong enough and my due date was tentatively set for April 26, 2015.