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I know, I know. I’ve had a good amount of back and fourth regarding the start of our next TTC journey. We had decided to use a new practice in our new home. It was a decision based on logic and not feeling, which never really sits well with me. As chance would have it, my cycles became wacky — pretty typical of when I get stressed. I finally faced my fear and decided there is no way in hell I’m starting over with a new practice. I will deal with the inconvenience of travel & of not knowing what I’ll do with Mr. E while getting knocked up in order to return to my old midwife, the one who helped us get Mr. E.
And like that, the old body started ovulating on schedule. And I felt at peace with TTC. One phone call to my old MW to see if she’d work with us – long distance, one Clomid prescription later, and the game is on for early September!
The timing feels right to me in so many ways. First, Mr. E, while still nursing, mostly comfort nurses and seemingly gets very little milk. I was concerned about how the Clomid would affect my supply (it will dry me up for the five days I am on it). I am not ready to wean him, so the thought of doing something to make it stop brought terrible guilt, but he’s cut way back, thus the milk has declined, and he is content just to suck. So taking Clomid is no longer a huge concern of mine.
Second, since hitting 18 months, he’s turned a kid, not a baby (although he is still very very very clingy). I can carry on conversations with him, we laugh and play, and everyday with him is better than the one before. His shift into toddler/kid seems like a natural progression into us moving forward with growing our family.
I am doing my best to stay in the head space needed to start this process again. The first time we did it, I believed, somewhat foolishly that I would get pregnant on the first try. I was full of hope and optimism. And two and a half years later, when I DID get pregnant, I began the cycle high on faith. I believe in the power of positive thinking and I believe in Clomid. We have five shots at making a full biological sibling for Mr. E, and I don’t have any negativity to waste.
Summer is flying by… And we’ve mostly been rained out, which is a huge bummer since we waited all winter long, grey day after grey day, for days of summer. Long days spent on the beach, sand between our toes, sea salt on our sun kissed skin. Not so much this year. The weather did perk up in time for our annual neighborhood Independence Day party. This year we hosted 70 neighbors and friends for a BBQ and fun as we celebrated our Country’s birthday:
We went to the county fair with one of Mr. E’s closest friends. It was by far the hottest, most humid day we’ve had so far…which made for a somewhat crabby Mr. E. Highlights of the fair, photo style:
E and his bestest friend, F
E and Mommy
We had a fun filled visit with Mr. E’s half siblings. The three kiddos had such a great time and it was so wonderful to spend such quality time together.
Second hottest day of the summer…trekking around P-Town.
Bath time is much more fun with friends!
At least the kids liked the rain!
Who needs sun when you’ve got mud puddles?
And we got to have a play date with Jen & Cait, N, & T!
Many meals shared over the green table.
We miss the P-M family now that they’ve left and can’t wait to see them again soon!!!
We’ve got a couple of weeks off from visitors and then we kick it back into gear through August.
In the mean time, our little Mr. E has become quite the talker and has full-on entered toddler hood. If I never hear No! it will be too soon. He seems to say at least three new words a day, is starting to string some words together and can sign a full sentence.
18 months seems to have been a huge milestone for us. E has become so very communicative and for the first time I can actually picture another child in the picture. So we are hoping to get back on our game…in September!
Ciao for now!
You know that line in A Christmas Story? The one that goes: My mother never ate a hot meal in her life.
Most mornings it’s at least 10:30 before I realize I have not eaten breakfast, but my son has. I am trying to get it together so we eat together in the morning, but coffee is my priority and that’s about all I can make while making his breakfast.
This morning was much like most mornings, except I DID manage to toast a bagel and put cream cheese on it with 20 minutes of him eating his breakfast. E was playing so I sat down, coffee, bagel, & computer. I’d taken a few bites from the first half while reading something on-line. Damned if I can remember what it was, but it was captivating and thus I ignored that strange sound to my right. When I finally did look over my effing cat had licked half the cream cheese off my bagel!!!! I held it for a few moments, debating whether or not I should still eat it. I came very close to chomping in and then remembered all the dead mice and birds she leaves us, and thought better. I tossed it and did not have time to make a second one.
Just now I looked outside to see the same cat drinking from the birdbath. Man am I glad I didn’t eat the bagel!
Hey remember me? The person who spent oodles of time writing here not that long ago? I think of you every so often, I start to compose posts in my head, and from time to time I actually log in type a few lines and then decide I am too scattered to focus. But you know what I miss you. A lot. And I miss the blog community that was so supportive of us as we were trying, through pregnancy, and up until I left you.
Life has been hectic and busy and full. To say the least.
Mr. E turned 18 months yesterday. He’s at a very fun and entertaining stage. His words are developing so quickly and his learning just blows me away sometimes. He is still a very clingy boy. Thankfully I have a friend IRL who has a two year old who was (is…) much like Mr. E. It’s incredibly supportive to be able to commiserate about just how hard it is to have a child who it literally attached to you all.day.long.
Mr. E is still very much in love with my boobs, and I have reached my second breast feeding goal -18 months. No more goals. Yesterday was the first time I really felt like if this kid did not stop sucking on me I was going to lose it. Thankfully be obliged me and took a yogurt drink instead. (Just saying the word “yogurt drink” bring him to such excitement and he utters “ooooooooooh” in the cutest voice. I’m not saying that I am going to wean him, just sayin’ sometimes it’s hard.
Mr. E also has not figured out the sleeping through the night thing. I’d take four hours, but it’s more like two. I feel like I have a newborn most days. He does, thankfully love his nap and goes down religiously from 12-3 everyday.
Life in general is flying by us. A is in the midst of a job search, with one mediocre offer on the table and a very good chance of another, better one. While exciting, this is causing us a great deal of stress as we wait and pray to the employment goddesses to tip in our favor.
We’re growing vegetable in our back yard and particpating in a local farm CSA, which makes me ridiculously happy. I also seem to be forever hanging diapers in our back yard and wondering, when can we potty train?
Summer brings with it lots of visitors and that is always fun and exciting. Living in a touristy area, we have also been taking great advantage of all the vacation-y things to do. Sunday night music in the park, beach, etc. If we can’t afford to go on vacation, we’ll just pretend!
We are gearing up to start trying…but still trying to figure my post partum, breastfeeding body and how it ovulates. Soon, I hope. I think if I get too far from this exhausted state, I won’t ever want to do it again with a second baby.
If you are still reading along, thanks! I hope to be back again soon.
Yeah so I had this whinny post all typed up about how we finally did Mr. E’s allergy testing and so far we know he is allergic to peanuts and dogs and not coconuts. More testing to come on all nuts. And then I went on about how there isn’t a dermatologist within a 50 mile radius who is A) accepting new patients or B) accepting new patients and works with children under the age of two. And given that Mr. E’s pedi wants him to see a dermatologist for some weird bump things on his scalp, I was left with no other option but to try to get him into Child.ren’s Hospita.l in B.oston. So that process has been started. I am starting to feel like a full-time case-manager. It’s been an overwhelming day to say the least.
But, you know, a peanut allergy, although potentially very scary is not the end of the World. We know about. We are armed with EpiPens. We are taking action to protect our son. And as for the dermatologist situation, I am actually secretly relived that we’ll be going to the best hospital in the World and hopefully we can also get some guidance on his eczema while we are there…
But instead of wallowing in my own self pity over all this, I am delighted. You see, I have been a co-sleeping fan since our second night home from the hospital. A, not such a fan. But, we’ve been doing it nonetheless. Today, she became a convert. Our sweet little E woke up this morning, crawled over me and onto A. She told him she had to get up to take a shower, he fussed and hugged her tighter. She cuddled him.
Tonight she gushed, I guess it is really great to wake up with him right there and to snuggle. Yes my friends, she thinks co-sleeping is great!
For mother’s day, all the mothers in my life decided we’d go out, sans children. My father generously agreed to stay with Mr. E. We left just after I put him down for a nap and we were gone almost four hours. If I told you that I was not at all nervous about leaving Mr. E with my Dad I would be lying. It’s not because I think he would ever harm him, not all, it’s just that he’s just not naturally a baby person. Mr. E adores my dad, and my dad adores him though, so we left him with him and knew all would be fine.
When we got home, my father had Mr. E out in the back yard, He was wearing his shirt and a diaper. A pre fold with a cover. My Dad, impeccably diapered him in a pre fold with a cover (it was diaper washing day and the easy-to-use FuzziBuz were still hanging on the line). All worriers were averted, and it was so clear how both of them loved their time together.
And we women had a leisurely lunch. It was perfect. And to top it off, my Dad paid for the lunch!
becoming a mother has turned me into the biggest sap.
I can not stomach violence. I never really could, but now, when I hear about children being hurt or parents having their kids taken from them, or children not receiving proper care, and so on, I literally fell sick.
I can not imagine doing anything to harm my son. I go so far out of my way to see to it that his every need is taken care of. I have made parenting decisions that benefit him and leave me exhausted. But at the end of the day, I know that I am doing what’s best for our family.
On the rare occasion that he “whines” himself to sleep (soooo not full on CIO), I cringe at the thought of him whining in his crib, but know how tired he is and that he really needs to go to sleep. Overnight I attend to him upon each waking, and all day I respond to his incessant requests to be held. (He’s learned how to ask to be worn in the Ergo!)
I just can’t imagine not responding to my baby. I can not imagine him in serious pain or distress. And yet it’s not enough. I feel so overwhelmed by the news reports of child neglect and violence. I feel paralyzed by the news reports. I want to keep my son in a bubble forever, and I know I can not, and that it would not be good for him.
Ya. So this has been on my mind for oh, about 16 months. It seems so obvious to me, but I guess I’ve never really said it our loud, or written it here.
We are in molar hell. Due to the onset of the 12 month molars, my poor sweet baby boy has had is just-starting-to-regulate-his-sleep-pattern turned up side down.
Night weaning was huge success. That was about six weeks ago. I’ve spent the last three nights up from 1:30-3:30 trying to comfort him (And multiple night waking began about 2 weeks ago). I’ve done everything I could thing of to help him get back to sleep. After hours without results, I caved on two of the three nights and nursed him. He immediately entered the land of nod.
Last night after losing the two hour struggle, I offered him my breast, while I began to cry. I felt defeated. I worried how nursing would impact the next night and the next night and… I am so desperate for sleep.
A very graciously got up with him at 6AM. Apparently I was unresponsive the first time she tried to wake me so she could get ready for work. In all she gave me an hour of sleep. It was blissful. I had planned to attend a social group today but it was canceled due to illness so I decided to go to a breast feeding support group. [And I was surprised to arrive and learn today is actually Wednesday and the BF support group is on Tuesdays...see I am so tired I can't tell what day it is.]
I had a chance to talk to a Lactation Consultant. I explain our entire situation- and she very calmly listened and echoed what I already knew: E is teething. Molars are really effing painful. But what I didn’t know is that breast milk actually has a pain relieving effect, so this is likely why all he wants when his teeth hurt is to nurse. It also explains why he recently started nursing up to 10 times a day. He is constantly signing for milk, he is not always nursing long enough to bring a let down, but he is comforted just by sucking.
So I am some what reluctantly returning to night nursing. If this is the one thing that will help relieve his pain, then how can I deny it? I just really hope we don’t end up back on the nursing every-hour-over-night-schedule. That was awful for all of us.
Forgive me if this post is sloppy – I am running on empty.
Sometime after Mr. E turned 1 I started trying peanut products in small doses. A bite of my peanut granola bar or a PB&J. He did not react. My worst allergy nightmare was averted. Or so I thought. Now I know that it can take several encounters for an allergy to present.
Last night Mr. E ate raw peanuts. Clarification, A and I were eating massaman curry topped with peanuts – our dinner appealed to him much more than his dinner. So we indulged him. Two hours later he woke from his slumber and vomited, which sadly is not all that uncommon for him. He went back to sleep until around 12:30AM when he woke A and I -he was snuggled between us – as he began to vomit, again. A changed the sheets as I cleaned him up. This is when I noticed he was red and blotchy. No, he was one huge hive – head to toe and itching like a madman. He was sad, whiny and crying. I was a nervous mess of a mum.
A and I packed him up and headed to the ER. He was a super star in the ER.We made it out of there in record time with an Rx for Benedryl (not sure why, cause it was the same dose as OTC), a suspected peanut allergy, and instructions to follow up with his pedi for allergy testing. Mr. E was knocked out by the Benedryl fell asleep on the way home as we stopped at the 24 hour pharmacy to fill the non-prescription prescription (at which time we also learned his insurance does not cover liquid Rxs…WTF?).
I followed up with his pedi today. She is the most anti-medicine doctor I’ve ever encountered and she’s starting to grow on me (previously I did not fancy her, but I can really appreciate her not-overly medical approach). She prescribed Epi Pens and made a referral for allergy testing, while letting me know she “does not know how effective the testing is.”
I feel bad. I can’t help ask why my son? But I know the answer is why not? I feel very lucky that his first allergic reaction was not life threatening and we now have the medication needed should he become very sick. For now, his pedi has said no more peanut products for either of us until we complete the testing. I know there are worse things to have wrong with your child, but I’d be lying if I said I was not terrified — I know how sever this can be. And how hard it is to limit peanut exposure.
Perhaps all you IVP mamas can help me out.
I really do believe if awards were given to babies my son would get the most clingy designation. Even at 15 months he is a cling monster. He is a shy guy, he does well at home, or when surrounded by a handful of people – especially people he knows. In larger social settings he tends to become irritated and wears out easily.
When home alone with him, he tends to cling to me– all.the.time. There are moments when he will suddenly pick up a book and intently turn the pages, or otherwise enjoy independent play. And I start to feel guilty for walking away and leaving him to play. Just now I took him upstairs to our bedroom to change my clothes. As usual I put him in the pack and play, fully stocked with book and toys, while I changed. He began playing and when I asked if he wanted to go down stairs with mum, he kept playing. He’s up there, playing away, I am down here blogging. And I feel so guilty.
When he’s clingy I get annoyed that he is on me all the time, but when I leave him alone to play I feel like I am abandoning him. If I am being rational, I know that a balance of play with others and independent play is ideal, but since the scale is so often tipped in one way, I just don’t know how to relax and enjoy the latter.
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