doctor, doctor. give me the news.

the other day i counted and since Emerson was born we've been to the pediatricians office 7 times. which is a lot considering that he is only 10 weeks old.

the day he was born, he weighed 8lb 5 oz. when we left the hospital he weighed 7 lb 10 oz. which was a whole ordeal that was annoying and made me never want to have babies at a hospital in Idaho again. Did I ever mention that recovering in the hospital was like the worst two days of my life? I'm being dramatic but it was pretty sucky. No rest. No real help with anything. One nurse forced me to drink a can of prune juice. Emerson had a great latch the first couple of days. BUT I was forced to give him a bottle with formula because I was told in the middle of the night he had lost too much weight (now I know it was a normal amount) and it was the ONLY way. which messed up breastfeeding and then instead of getting real solutions to breastfeeding issues I was given temporary solutions which in the end made it where I couldn't exclusively breastfeed and made me totally hate breastfeeding because it was frustrating and exhausting. But anyway, I'm being a real whiner here. I just think it should be required for ALL hospitals to have certified lactation consultants available and not just L&D Nurses who all have different experiences with breast feeding and just give you advice based on their personal experiences and not actual knowledge on the subject. ANYWAY I'LL STOP RANTING.

then we went for his 3 day check up and he was back up to 7 lb 14 oz. So since he was gaining weight I took it upon myself to attempt to exclusively breastfeed again.

when we went in for his 2 week check up he weighed in at 8 lbs 3.5 oz. and I felt proud. "Screw formula!" I thought. But then the doctor said it wasn't good enough and to come back in a week just for a weight check to make sure he was still gaining. SO I kept breastfeeding.

a week later we went in and when I put him on the scale the scale said 8 lb 3.5 oz again. and I was devastated. I wanted to cry right there.  but I waited until we got into the car.  I failed as a mom. The one job I had was to make him grow and I couldn't. they told me to either supplement with formula or increase the number of feedings. I was exhausted and heartbroken. I felt like the only thing I was doing was feeding him non stop. They told me to come back AGAIN in a week.

So to my dismay I started to supplement with formula. In a way it was nice because Taylor could help with middle of the night feedings even if I hadn't pumped enough milk. But I felt so guilty.

A week later I took him and when he got on the scale he weighed 8 lb 14 oz. I was so excited! He had gained 10.5 oz in 7 days! My guilt started to fade when I realized that even though hippy moms all over the world might think I'm a failure as a mom, at least he was growing and back on track.

[In case you haven't been counting we are now up to 4 doctors visits.]

Then we went to GA for Christmas. I'm not sure where it happened but when we got home Emerson was sick. It was the saddest thing in the world. It was most just a stuffy runny nose but when he started coughing I got scared and decided to take him into the doctor even though his 2 month appt was only 4 days away. When I took him to get checked out he weighed 10 lb 10 oz. I was so relieved that he was gaining weight still. But the days following that until his 2 month check up he was spitting up A LOT and OFTEN because of all the mucous he was swallowing (I KNOW TMI but WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO? ITS MOM LYFE).

So at his two month check up he weighed 10 lb 5 oz. He had lost 5 oz. I had kind of expected it with all the throwing up. In fact he had thrown up in the car on the way to the appt. but I was bummed out because I knew they were gonna make me come back. Which I'll do anything to ensure that my baby is healthy but A) I kind of hate the pediatric center and B) loading a kid up to be somewhere on time is hard.

SO YESTERDAY we went back to check his weight AGAIN and homeboy weighed in at 11 LBS AND 5 OZ. I WAS STOKED! He had gain a pound in ten days. Putting him in the 15th percentile (he's a little guy, but at least he's on the charts)

This post turned into more of a rant than I had expected. But hopefully he won't need to go back until his 4 month check up. I just wish that *I* could be the one who had such a hard time putting weight on. sheesh.

Luh my baby though.

sometimes you give birth to a kid.

I love my baby. I love him so much i can hardly comprehend it. It actually terrifies me how much I love him because it makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. However, what I loved less was the process of giving birth to  him. That's not to say I HATED giving birth because things were relatively easy and we both made it out healthy and alive but... let me explain.

I hate that I have to even say that. That I didn't *like* to give birth. I did so much research about childbirth. I would almost say that I knew too much for my own good. I knew that my body knew exactly what it needed to do and the pain was just my body doing the work of getting my baby out. I knew that I wanted to have a natural labor with a midwife at a birth center. To my dismay though, that wasn't how it was going to work for me. When I got pregnant I discovered that my insurance would cover EVERYTHING in a hospital and NOTHING with anything else. Some women would say, "it's worth the 5 grand +!" but that wasn't really in the cards for us. SO I made the best with what I had. I created a birth plan and told my doctors that I wanted to have a natural birth and they were on board. I wasn't delusional by any means, I knew that sometimes things happen when you have a baby and things don't go the way you want. 

BUT, things were going well for me. I had a very healthy pregnancy. My blood pressure was perfect, my pee was clean, my glucose levels were fine, Emerson's heart rate was perfect and his head was down, I was gaining the exact right amount of weight etc etc. So I figured, having the birth I want, should be no problem. I even chose to deliver at a hospital that was totally cool with women having natural deliveries. Everything was fine.

Then, my due date came and went. My OB asked me if I wanted to be induced. I said no. He'd come when he was ready.  So I waited and kept going in for my check ups. To my dismay, my blood pressure started creeping up at each subsequent visit. When I went in at 41 week 5 days, my BP was too high for my OB to be comfortable with so he said we needed to induce. My heart sank. So, we discussed the ways to get labor started and we came to an agreement that I was most comfortable with. I was grateful to have a doctor that listened to my concerns, discussed things through with me, and didn't bully me into things I didn't want. 

So we went home to get all my stuff I had packed. After that, we said a prayer in the car and stopped for lunch and went to the hospital. I wasn't even nervous. Why wasn't I nervous? I have no idea. I was about to experience something completely insane and then my life would be changed forever afterwards and there was no turning back. But at 12:45 PM on 11/11 I was like, no big deal, Let me put on this hospital gown that someone probably died in at some point and watch Honey Boo Boo while my cervix ripens. So for the first few hours, that's what I did.

Apparently contractions were coming but I couldn't feel them other than a little tightening. I would occasionally get up, walk around, pee, snack, whatever. Then I would have to get back in bed to check my blood pressure and the baby's heart rate. Fortunately, as I relaxed my blood pressure started to go down, but it wasn't down very much. And then I had to get Antibiotics in an IV because I was GBS positive and that burned my veins. It was really uncomfortable. At about 5:45 my OB came in to see how I was doing. He decided it would be best if he broke my water. I wasn't super stoked about that. But my BP was betraying me. So he did. And once he did, things really got going. I started to feel the contractions and within three hours they got really intense. At that point I had switched nurses and the new nurse was someone who had delivered her babies naturally, so she showed Taylor how to push my legs and knees into my hips to help relieve of some the pain during contractions. It did help a lot. What I really wanted was to get up and walk around but I had to get another round of antibiotics and my blood pressure was creeping up again. So I was stuck in the bed in pain. I did my best to work through them with the help of my wonderful husband but by 10:45 PM I was exhausted and at my wits end and my blood pressure was insanely high. Like I was about to have a stroke. It was like 200/110 or something. The last time I was checked I was at 5cm, and about an hour later I started having urges to push and my contractions were out of control. At one point I had 3 contractions that overlapped each other and the peak of the pain lasted about 5 minutes straight and the baby was squirmy so they had me on my side to get his heart rate which for some reason intensified the pain of the contractions and all I could do was lay on the bed and writhe and scream in pain.  So the nurse checked me again and I was at 8cm. I was so relieved to know that the pain was actually moving things along. I thought, Okay, I can definitely do this! I'm almost there! So I asked how much longer, and she told me 3-4 hours at the most. At that point I wanted to cry. I looked that nurse right in the eyes and told her I wanted the epidural. It was strange because I had always feared getting to that point in hospital, where I broke down and decided I wanted drugs and I would get it because it was available even though I probably could have done it without it. But in that moment, I was so exhausted, I would try to close my eyes and rest and then a contraction would hit and rest was not an option and so when I decided to get the epidural, I felt no guilt, I felt no fear, I was in survival mode.

when the anesthesiologist came in I felt like there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Apparently I wasn't breathing very well so they put an oxygen mask on me. Looking back, I'm not sure if I should have been more scared about that mask but I didn't care. contractions were still coming every minute or so. When he told me I had to hold perfectly still while he jabbed me with that sweet sweet poison I was genuinely scared of being paralyzed or something. But I did it. I had a super intense contraction during that moment but I squeezed Tayl's hand as hard as I could and then it was over. 11:45 PM Within minutes I started to feel relief. For the first time in hours, I was able to smile. I wanted to kiss that anesthesiologist on the mouth. I was back to being excited about my baby coming. The strangest part of the epi was that I could move my legs, and I could still feel when I was having a contraction, but I just didn't feel any pain. I thought I would basically be useless from the waist down.

So I was finally able to just rest, I actually slept. Not well, because I could still feel the contractions (not pain). But, it was the rest I needed. I'm not sure I would have been able to push the baby out of me otherwise. Also, my blood pressure dropped dramatically. I was back in normal ranges. Around 4 AM, I started to push and blah blah blah I'll spare you the gory details but at 5:10 AM my little perfect goopy bundle of joy came out of my womb and into this crazy world at 8 pounds 5 oz and 21 inches long.

Looking back, as time has passed, I am totally okay with how things went down. BUT, the first few days I felt a little internal guilt for getting drugged up while I was giving birth to my baby. It made me upset to even think about it. I was ashamed. I didn't think I would ever be able to tell people my birth story let alone put it on my blog. But in the end, I did what was best for both of us in my situation. As we approach Emerson's one month mark, the most valuable thing I have learned is that the worst thing I can do is go online and read what other mom's are doing or have done. Mom world is a scary world. I'm not an expert... yet. But my baby is healthy and growing and happy and so am I, and so that means I'm doing okay. And everyone else in mom world who judges, can suck it.

this is an update on being pregnant.

I'm really good at being pregnant, but really bad at it at the same time. My already chubby body was basically designed to carry a child. I am really glad I hadn't discovered the joy that is maternity pants before I got pregnant because I probably would have shamefully worn them all the time. I am already dreading the day I have to fold them up and save them for another pregnancy. I am tired a lot of the time, which is actually not hard for me because I was already lazy. I'm fine with resting A LOT. But I'm bad at being pregnant because I haven't been doing things like, taking weekly belly pics, drinking wheat grass shots, and/or scrap booking. My nesting skills are severely lacking unless you consider buying too many adorable and/or ridiculous baby clothes to be nesting.

25 weeks and I need a freaking hair cut.

Two things that are not my favorite thing right now. Number one, hot flashes. Especially while at home during the day. We don't have central air or any air conditioning on the main floor for that matter and our living room can get up to 88 degrees by 3 PM. Combine that with a hot flash and I basically rip my clothes off and cry. Tay does not understand. I'm sure he thinks I'm a crazy person. On Sunday I went in the backyard and laid on the grass in the shade, in my underwear. I didn't even care if the neighbors saw me through the fence. The second thing is getting up to pee in the middle of the night, sometimes multiple times. It wouldn't be that big of a deal if I didn't have to go downstairs to get to the bathroom. I'm seriously considering a bed pan. A fun side story, one of the last nights that the Giddens were in town (better blog about that too.) April and Jamie had a stomach bug. The toilet was occupied for the majority of that night. When I woke up at 3:30 AM to relieve myself, I prayed that it would be free, but it was not. So I did what any desperate person in my situation would do, and I peed the in the backyard. And I'm not ashamed.

Honestly, now that I review these things, it is obvious that the set up of my house is mostly to blame for these discomforts. But I will survive.

I get asked a lot about if I have any weird cravings. I'm not sure if people want me to tell them that I have been eating toilet paper or something. BUT I have fortunately not been interested in anything that would not normally be considered food. There hasn't been anything specific that has lasted my entire pregnancy that I've craved. It really varies. But when I crave something I HAVE TO HAVE IT! Lately the object of my obsession is Mexican food. Namely, tamales. There's a Mexican guy who comes into my work everyday selling Tamales and burritos. He hadn't been in for a couple of months until recently, when one day I was like "MAN I WOULD KILL FOR A TAMALE RIGHT NOW" and then not even 4 minutes later, TAMALE GUY WALKS IN. It was a miracle. A delicious miracle. Ever since then, I can summon him with my mind whenever my craving kicks in. He is my best friend.

In other news, this little dude kicks me like a lot. I shouldn't say kicking because I have no proof that he isn't punching or head butting or butt butting or elbowing. He is most active in the night time. Which is kind of inconvenient but is so cool that sometimes I forget he's keeping me up. I haven't had morning sickness in a few weeks! So that's something to celebrate! Also, lately a thing I do is that I freak about the fact that A) he has to somehow come out of me. B) We will be in charge of not totally ruining his life for the next 18 years. and C) what if he is an ugly baby?
I'm hoping these anxieties will pass, but for now I'm just trying to enjoy all the good stuff while I can. Like people touching my belly, afternoon naps, maternity pants, feeling him move around and having him all to myself, and of course eating food.

Here's my sexiest cutest preggie selfie. try to resist pinning it to your maternity inspiration board, because it will make everyone else look bad. but for real, the face I'm making is a little bit terrifying.

another man.

I never thought there would be room in my heart for loving another man besides Tayl. But then on Saturday I saw that tiny little man junk on the ultrasound and I felt like my heart grew 100x bigger (like the Grinch) to make room for our new little dude.

I didn't really make a secret that I wanted a girl. I wanted one because I had always imagined myself with a girl first. I knew that if I had a girl, I would name her after my mom and we would be bff and I could buy her expensive clothes and I would teach her to hate Disney princesses and be awesome. BUT I knew deep down that I had this little guy inside of me.

So I wasn't disappointed at all when I found out it was a boy, and I wasn't all that surprised either. but I was so happy. I couldn't stop smiling. I always loved this little thing already, but knowing whether it was a boy or not just created this new kind of bonding for me. I'm sure if you're a mama, you understand.

Anyway, enough jibber jabber and onto the pics:

the teeniest weinie in the world.

This picture was the coolest because it was at the end after he had been jabbed on for like 15 minutes
and I felt like it was his way of saying, "OKAY LADY GTFO!" 

SKELETOR!!!!

FAQs and Pregnancy Promises.

When you tell the world that you're with child, many questions arise. So, I have decided to place here some answers to a couple of frequently asked questions as well as some of my promises to my social networking pals now that I am publicly pregnant.

FAQ #1: When are you due?

My due date is confusing. It is sometime between Halloween and November 4th. But if I have learned anything in my quest for knowledge about child birth, it is that Due Dates don't mean jack SHMIT.

FAQ #2: How far along are you?

As of today, I am 11 weeks and 3 days. if you want to get technical.

FAQ #3: How are you feeling?

Thanks for asking! I feel like crap 80% of the time, and I throw up almost every morning. But when I saw that baby's heartbeat on the ultrasound, it made every gag, every heave over the toilet, every getting up to pee 50 times in the night, every sore breast, every time I feel so tired I can't move off of the couch and even the fact that I can't eat cold deli meat, TOTALLY worth it. Plus, I know that my sickness isn't even close to the worst.

FAQ #4: Was it planned?

We've been married for two years, Tayl has a permanent job, we're homeowners, we've reached our limit of dogs before it starts to get weird, and we're not getting any younger. SO no, it wasn't strategically planned, but it wasn't all that surprising, and it's pretty good timing. SO WE'LL TAKE IT!

Just had to put this up for documentation.

Now with that out of the way, I would like to take just a moment to make some promises I would like to make to you, my peers. (These do not apply to Taylor, namely #1)

Promise #1: I promise that I will not complain about the discomforts of pregnancy on my facebook page, or my blog. The first reason being, it's annoying as hell. The second is that I don't think this is fair  to women who can't conceive, are having trouble conceiving, or have lost babies. And I am so so grateful that I am able to carry my own babies. 

Promise #2: I promise not to over exaggerate the joys of pregnancy.

Promise #3: I promise that I do not want unsolicited advice about the birthing process and I promise that my birth plan is not something I will discuss publicly. 

Promise #4: I promise that I will do my best not to let motherhood make me lame. 

That's really all. I can't promise much more than that. Sorry ya'll.

Happy THANKSGIVING Pilgrims!

Phew! What a fun crazy week we had.

We've been in Georgia all week for Thanksgiving/one of our best friend Kyle's wedding (congrats ya'll!). It's been nice and warm and relaxing. I'm not quite ready to get back to the Idaho winter that awaits me.

If I had to pick one picture to sum up our week here it would be this one:

That's Paisley. (and my Kristen Stewart buck teeth. I own them) She's our niece and the daughter of my sis-in-lawbff, Jamie. and I'm just kind of obsessed with her. Like, if you saw my cell camera pictures (my instagram photos are just the tip of the iceberg) right now you would think that she was MY child because I have so many pictures of that girl. but I can't help it, she is just too beautiful and sweet. and also really advanced for a four month old, she can already do math, probably.

I could tell you about every single detail of our vacation, but I'm not gonna. I just really wanted to brag about how precious Paisley is. Just know that we've been talking real southern up in here (can't help it) and that we ate waaaaaay too much (all week, not just on Thanksgiving) and lost all our eating inhibitions. back to dieting on Monday... until Christmas of course.

Also, I just realized that all my best friends have beautiful babies, see evidence here. 

I guess I just know how to pick em. 

Ketchup - Halloween.

Well, I actually really missed blogging. Not being able to do it made me realize that I actually do enjoy documenting our lives (without having to scrapbook, bleh.). I love technology.

Today I'm gonna blog like I'm getting paid and the rent is due tonight. bear with me children.

Okay so I guess I will start from Halloween weekend.

We decided to go down to Valdosta for Halloween weekend, because everyone else was and it was the last time we were all going to be together until Christmas. and I mean EVERYONE. I'm talking Nana, Pop, Jamie, Jeff, Sally, Curtis, Laney, April, Thomas, John, Angie, Kendall, Logan, Dylan, Alex, Lux, Me, and Taylor.

Friday was Angie's birthday so we went to dinner at a hibachi grill.

John being a model.

Chatting.

Me and the birthday girl.

Giggling. Jeff was banished to the corner.

UM yes. that sushi roll is called PARTY IN YOUR MOUTH

The whole gang.

My snaggle teeth.

Curtis eating a baby octopus.

Angie, John, and Jared, all being models.

I made this same face for like a serious of 15 photos. it was creep.

This is how they fell in love.

Thomas is the outcast.

After dinner we went to back to Nana's for cake and ice cream and partied moderately hard.

Dylan helping helping with his mom's candles.

Jamie and KENDALL

Lux lusting after Jeff.

Laney telling us what the doggy says.

This picture just makes me LOL.

Saturday was the Trunk o Treat at the church and somehow we managed to get everyone dressed up, even the dogs. 

Curtis and precious Laney

Thomas not being creepy at all....

my last minute princess peach costume.

Laney doin a jig.

John was my favorite for the night.

John and April

Angie's last minute pirate costume.

Some very appropriate things happened during this photoshoot.

Last year I was the star of the couples costume, so I thought I could take the backseat this year.

squIRREL!

Pop

OHHH THomas.

Me and Jamie should go blonde. and Sally should always do that with her mouth.

Curtis, from Waycross.

too bad laney was drunk (off breastmilk) in this picture.

 So basically it was a super fun weekend and BTW all of those costumes were last minute costumes, so we're pretty much amazing. 

But on Sunday we had to go home so that we could move into our new place on Monday

Next up, the post about moving in.