I promised you for Monday. Yeah, it’s still coming. Apparently when you’re at work you occasionally have to actually do work! Balderdash! And then of course when I’m not doing work, I’m reading other blogs and trying to get my creative juices flowing. However, as we speak I type, I am ingesting some creative juice Mt Dew so hopefully I can finish that post this afternoon. Hold tight people, I’m getting there.
I had every intention on writing a good entry for today. Alas, I have overdosed on caffeine and can’t stop shaking or actually completing a thought. Wait, I just completed a thought!! Woot woot! (Never mind that it took me 2 minutes to write that sentence.)
So, to hold you over until my award winning post on Monday, here are a few things to consider:
- How many calories do you burn while jittering your foot against your sandle from aforementioned caffeine overdose?
- Would said jittering be considered exercise?
- When drug dealers cut their drugs with formula, do they pay attention to the nutritional labels?
- Do drug dealers use formula checks?
- Do you think drug dealers use the recommended dosage of one scoop per 2 ounces?
- If drug dealers really did pay attention to the nutritional labels, aren’t they really doing their buyers a solid? I mean, they’re making sure they get their needed vitamins and what not, right?
- Has there ever been an intervention for someone who leads too many interventions?
- Would a show where people have interventions for reality show creators be hypocritical?
- If Superman worked at a hospital, would he bill separately for performing an x-ray and reading it?
- Is Catwoman capable of performing CATscans?
- Why don’t they have you bring your pets to the hospital when you’re getting a PETscan? Seems like false advertising to me.
- Why aren’t there DOGscans? Discrimination much
Alright, that’s enough crazy to hold you over until Monday!
No really. Okay, I guess I don’t necessarily know your mom, but still. Mine rocks. This weekend she was presented an award from our alma mater. My parents met at college and eventually, us three daughters attended the same school. Anyways, my mom was presented the Alumni Achievement Award for her awesome teaching skills…and b/c she’s unbelievably caring. Seriously, she actually cut up my sopapilla at lunch later that day while I was feeding Ems so I could eat at the same time, all without being asked. Yep, that’s how awesome my mom is. Now, since this college is a Catholic University, naturally the award presentation took place in church after mass. Stellar, right? I’m sure you can tell I’m a real church goer Since we somehow manage to be busy every Sunday morning, Emberly has never been to mass. She did pretty well. I only had to leave the church once b/c she was getting her tired crankiness. I returned just in time to miss throwing money in to the offering. DANGIT! I guess they’ll just have to make do with my boatload of student loans.
Normally Emberly is happy go lucky, like this:
Oops, I meant this:
She was peacefully asleep when I went up to take/get/accept communion. (Don’t judge me, I needed a little wine to carry me through the rest of mass. Ems had a FULL diaper and I couldn’t fish out a new one from the bottom of the stroller during church!) Now, the first priest blessed her and she didn’t even flinch. On to the second priest with the coveted wine! At this point, my heart is full. I feel good that Emberly is being blessed by priests and that she may get into heaven after all. Although, I’m pretty sure she’s got a first class seat there just for having to deal with us as parents. So on to the next blessing of the peaceful baby. Blah blah blah Amen and what does the sleeping peaceful Emberly do, start coughing! That’s not a good sign is it? My BIL turned around once we reached our seats and said, “Uh-oh.” Maybe she will get to spend the afterlife with us after all!
Great news! I get to continue my crutch Zoloft! And even though Dr.Awesome is moving away, without MY blessing mind you, he said I can call in for refills when I run out. I don’t plan to stay on these forever, I just don’t feel like I’m quite ready to be sans happy pills. I’ve noticed in the last week or so that I’ve gotten a bit short and crabby after work. Now, as you may recall, I’ve been taking Zoloft at night to help lessen the transfer to Emberly when she was breastfeeding. Well, since I’m lazy no longer doing that (BTW, strikethrough is so much fun!) Dr.Awesome suggested that I take it first thing in the morning. And really, who isn’t crabby in the morning before their stimulant of choice is consumed? So today was my first day doing that. Tonight will be the true test if my crabbiness was due to my pill timing or just dealing with my husband.
Continuing on with Dr.Awesome news, I need to get sick or hurt as much as possible in the next month and a half. Dr.Awesome’s last day is near the end of August. I don’t think he realizes that we’re not going to allow him to leave yet. Hope his family isn’t too mad when we slash the moving truck’s tires. That’s not wrong, right? So, barring a fluke accident or sickness, I only get to see Dr.Awesome one more time before he leaves. That time will be Emberly’s 6 month check up! Holy shit, you read that right. 6 months. Where does time go? My dad said yesterday in response to me being shocked that my baby is almost half a year old, “Yeah, and in another six months she’ll be starting school. And in a year and a half she’ll be graduating.” It’s so true though. I always thought adults were full of it when I was younger, saying that time would go even faster once I was out of school. Turns out, they actually knew a thing or two.
Focus! Sorry, my Mt. Dew isn’t kicking in yet. Back to the topic at hand, Dr.Awesome. With the technologies we have now-a-days, he surely should be willing to diagnose me over the phone/internet, right? Or maybe I could just send him an email with my symptoms and what I think I have (I’m good at that. I’m sure he appreciates me telling him what I have) then he could just call to my local pharmacy my prescription. And let’s discuss how another pregnancy would go. I’m thinking he’ll need access to a private jet. The way the last labor went, we’re not going to have time to drive 2 1/2 to 3 hours for him to deliver. I don’t think Dr.Awesome’s family put in to consideration that they’re forcing Emberly to be an only child! Rude! Britt said if Dr.Awesome isn’t going to be my prenatal doctor, there will be no more babies. Moving is just such a selfish thing. I did offer to help him “pack.” However, I warned that I’d probably take more stuff OUT of the boxes than I would put in (anything to get them to stay). For some reason, he didn’t go for that.
The more I talk to Dr.Awesome, the more I think he may actually be going through with this move. Maybe I need to have a moving intervention with his family. Do you think A&E can get to BFE, Colorado on short notice? I can picture it now, they’ll show clips of the family tripping over boxes, looking haphazardly for the packing tape, passing out on the moving boxes from sheer exhaustion. Sounds like an award winning episode to me. Now I just need to decide which interventionist to have conduct it, Candy or Ken?
Apparently Emberly’s a food snob. Ever since going mostly off of my breast milk, she’s been hitting the bottle heavier than an alcoholic at happy hour. She ate 19 ounces yesterday at daycare alone! I guess mom’s cookin’ isn’t good enough. Which really, I think that may get me out of actual cooking, right? How shocked is the dr going to be when we show up to our 6 month check-up weighing 25 pounds? Maybe now she’ll make it out of the 5th percentile for everything. “Oh, was she early?” No! Apparently she’s petite ::) Didn’t get that one from her mom.
On another positive note, she’s been sleeping pretty well at night. If she does get up, she usually cries herself back to sleep in less than 4 minutes! Score! That makes for one rested and happy mudder. AND when you combine the extra sleep with the now legal Mt. Dew…I’m in HEAVEN!!! Still, if that bastard dr takes my Zoloft away tomorrow, we might be singing a different tune.
Speaking of tunes, I sing two songs to Embers before bed every nights. Usually it’s just one verse each, unless I’m feeling creative and come up with my own lyrics. And since my mind completely blanks when I try to come up with any childhood songs, these two have been on the playlist for the last few weeks: You Are My Sunshine and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I really need to brush up on my music, unless you think she may like me to sing My Chemical Romance…maybe in a few years.
So, in order to save Emberly from my ridiculous song writing and inappropriate songs, why don’t you suggest something that would be kosher for bedtime. (BTW, am I the only one that totally thinks of pickles whenever kosher is said?)
I have a lot of them. They encompass almost my every other thought. I can’t stop them. Just when I think I’m doing good, another one will pop into my head uninvited. How do I cope with this? By reading sad blogs naturally. I still have this need to feel what they’re feeling. In some ways I think that if I can tag along on their journey, feeling even just a minuscule of what they’re feeling, it will help prepare me if I’m ever in that situation. I’m constantly waiting for the shoe to drop. I keep fearing that something horrible is going to happen to someone I love.
I put Emberly to sleep, and I worry that she’ll roll onto her stomach and not roll herself back. When she sleeps through the night, I worry that when I go in to get her, she won’t be alive. This is constantly running through my head. I don’t know how I manage to not sleep in her room. I think it’s because I know Britt will think I’m insane, and maybe I am. I’m actually relieved when she wakes up in the middle of the night because I know she’s still alive. I keep waiting for the 6month and 1 year mark to come along so I can be done with worrying about SIDS or a fucking virus. I have mini freak-outs in my head when I show up to Daycare and she’s sleeping in the swing with a blanket over her. My entire body is on edge up until I pull the blanket away and see her sucking on her pacifier. I dread leaving her anywhere. I fully trust everyone I leave her with, but you never know. Accidents can happen and accidents do happen. I’m always worrying that my phone will ring with some horrible news. I worry that any cough or sniffle could be something worse. I wonder if that new sound she’s making is a warning or just something she’s learned.
Because I never know when or if something is going to happen, I’ve become a hoarder of sorts. Maybe you’d consider it more as me being lazy and not wanting to clean or put things away. Emberly’s bassinet is still next to my side of the bed, the sheet unwashed and her old hat that used to keep her warm when our heating went out hanging on the bed post. I fear that as soon as I put this stuff away, or wash it, something will happen and I won’t be able to have those things to remind me of her. It’s like I’m constantly preparing for how I will grieve her loss. It’s sickening really. I truly live every moment I have with her full of love and joy, but I can’t stop myself from feeling this way. My world would crumble without her and I want to make sure that I am constantly surrounded by her.
I don’t only do this with Emberly. Britt had given me roses the Friday before Emberly was born for Valentine’s Day. They’re still sitting on my counter. For a few weeks, an arrangement MIL gave us for Emberly’s birth was sitting next to it. When Britt went to Reno for some training, I threw away the birth arrangement but kept the flowers he gave me. I just couldn’t throw them away. What if his plane went down, what if he had an accident in Reno? Those would be the last thing he gave me. Those would be the last physical evidence Emberly would have of her father and what an amazing man he is. This is the shit running through my head on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Sure the Zoloft is helping. I don’t cry now when I think about it. But the thoughts are still there. They still make me want to find more blogs to read. I think part of me needs to continue finding and reading these types of blogs not only to feel what they’re feeling, but to let them know that their loved one mattered. They’re not the only one that was affected by their loved one’s life. While I never had the opportunity to meet their loved one, or probably even them, I still feel their loss. They mattered. Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of. If I don’t keep these things, if I don’t blog, who will ever know how wonderful my daughter and husband are? Who will grieve with me? Whose lives would they not touch? I think every parents’ dream is that their child makes a difference at least in someones life. I guess this is just my way of making sure Emberly does and that others know theirs do. They’re loved ones make a difference to me through their writings.
Who’d have thunk they’d hurt so bad when they’re so full of a liquid? On the plus side, they look fabulous! I wish I could keep them this big and perky. Britt said he was willing to either pay for a boob job once I’m completely finished breastfeeding OR once I pointed out that there was no way in hell we were going to waste money on something like that at this time, he said he’d periodically make sure that they kept producing What a gentleman, willing to take one for the team.
In a related note, I cried last night. I spent the day with family and not pumping, just giving her formula. I didn’t cry because of the pain I was in from being engorged, I cried because I was sad. I don’t know if I’m truly ready to be done with breastfeeding. I may never have this opportunity again. I know that she’s more than fine without it. In fact, she’s been sleeping better for the last half a week since she’s been getting more formula. I just wish she still needed me. Breastmilk was the only thing that only I could provide for her. All of her other needs can be met by virtually anyone. This was just our thing. She needed me and now she won’t. It’s even more sad since she’s essentially the one who started weaning herself. I know that I could put more effort into continuing, but I think it’s probably best for both of us to just fade it out now. I’m still going to try feeding her first thing in the morning, and maybe after work. However, I’ll no longer be pumping unless I need to relieve the engorgement. I have to admit, it was kind of liberating to not have to worry about pumping after I ate lunch today. My work days may be a little more enjoyable now…except for the whole being at work thing. And this should free up my afternoons for more blogging time!
of breastfeeding, that is. I’m afraid that I will need to give it up soon. I had initially wanted to do it for the first six months. However, the camping trip has pretty much put the ax on that. First off, my stored supply was cut dramatically. Secondly, Embers got even more comfortable with the bottle. She’s now having issues eating off of me. She’ll start, but gets irritated quickly. She hasn’t formed a preference for formula, just the bottles. And I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can handle being an exclusive pumper with a hand pump. There’s no way I’m spending $150 for an electric one that I’d only use for two more months.
I’m really torn about what to do. I want to be able to continue until the 6 month mark. I think it’d be nice to be able to breastfeed her when we fly to Washington at the end of the month. I think that would help calm her down for the flight. Of course, I don’t really want to have to worry about pumping and making sure I have enough milk while we’re there. Aside from losing out on the obvious benefits of breastfeeding (i.e. bonding with Emberly, helping her with staying healthy and immunized) there are some selfish reasons I’d like to continue too. For one, I’m the lightest I’ve been in YEARS people. I’m a good 10-15 lbs lighter than I was before my BFP. If I quit breastfeeding, I’ll definitely need to watch how much I’m putting in to my body. Secondly, it’s so nice to just have instant food. No preparing of bottles, no cleaning bottles, no worrying about how much I’m using or have left in my supply. It saddens me to know that Emberly no longer prefers eating from me. I feel rejected. And part of me is annoyed that I won’t be able to make it to the six month mark. I’ve spent most of the last months (at least since returning to work) trying to justify to my husband and my father why it’s beneficial for me to continue. They’ve been so against it that I just want to continue so I can give a big ol’ middle finger to them. I’m such an indecisive person. My husband gives me shit about it all.the.time. So it boggles me why he would choose to be anti-breastfeeding when he realizes that I finally made a decision that is important. It’s like a huge slap in my face. The one thing I have control over is now being taken away. I know that I could try eating the breastfeeding cookies, continue drinking Mother’s Milk Tea, or even pump more often for longer periods. But you know what, maybe it’s time to call it quits. Give my boobies a rest. (It’s amazing the different forms a nipple can take on!) Start just enjoying my time with Emberly rather than stressing about pumping more milk or having enough for daycare or wondering if she ate enough. I think today is the beginning of the final phase of breastfeeding. Get ready for posts about huge hard boobs and unbelievable pain. Posts where I’m crying b/c I feel so guilty for not sucking it up and continuing to almost exclusively breastfeed Ems. Posts where I seem like an utterly insane person b/c I’m back on Mt. Dew (those will come a bit later, I’m still testing out my theory.) Now I must think about how quickly I want this chapter to end. I’m not ready to throw in the towel, maybe just a rag.