Panic attack

I just read this article by Jason Wright in the Deseret News yesterday and I had to nod my head in agreement. I had heard people talk about having anxiety issues or panic attacks, and I kind of had the same attitude of "just get over it and be brave". That is, until I had my first panic episode.  Apparently, it's not uncommon to have panic attacks when you're pregnant.  I didn't know that.  It had never happened to me until I was pregnant with child number 5.  I just assumed they were talking about the stress you feel in having a baby and how that kind of freaks you out. I didn't realize it meant, in my case, flying on an airplane when 5 months pregnant and feeling claustrophobic to the point that you felt like you couldn't breathe and had to get out. Needless to say, you can't really do that at 30,000 feet.

My apologies to anyone who has had anxiety attacks before and had someone like me who just smiled and nodded without really appreciating what that means.  I spent most of a 4 hour flight standing in the back aisle of an airplane. The thought of sitting in that little space between two people was more than I could stomach.  Literally.  I had another panic attack shortly after the baby was born.  This one happened at home late at night, but it was so bad that I really felt like I couldn't breathe.  I couldn't make the air go into my lungs and I thought I was going to die.  It was very real. It was not just a "Boy, I'm feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment." Happy to say I haven't had to deal with it since then.  But to all of you who deal with this or have family members who deal with it on a regular basis, you have my complete sympathy. Wish I could do more to help. Maybe understanding is enough for now.

The smiles make it all worthwhile

I love it when my babies finally start smiling and laughing.  It makes it all worthwhile.  I feel like I must be doing something right, because my child is happy.  Here's a little something to share that makes me happy.

How can you not smile at such a thing? This is one of those things I'll return to periodically and watch just when I want to smile.

The straw to break the camel's back

You know the old saying about "the straw that broke the camel's back?" I feel like that camel, except without that last straw.  Before having baby #5, I felt like life was fairly full, but I felt like I was keeping up on things.  The house was relatively clean, I was exercising, meals got prepared, etc. Well, baby #5 came and life has seemed to become even fuller. Weird how that happens, huh? Of course, this also coincided with tax season beginning. And, the new baby did spend 4 days in the hospital with RSV and a week attached to an oxygen tank at home.  I don't feel like life has completely fallen apart. Yet.

Have you ever had those times in life where you feel like you're barely keeping things under control? Where one more straw added on may be the last one?  Meals are prepared - most of the time. The house isn't a complete disaster - but please don't look at the kitchen floor. Or in the basement. Or under the kids' beds. Books aren't read to the kids as often. Exercising happens once or twice a week. You certainly aren't getting enough sleep. 

Having made it through 4 other new babies and 18 other tax seasons, I know this will eventually end.  And I'll make it through. Eventually.  But I'll be balancing life precariously for the next month. Or longer.

First time fears

I did it. I ventured out with 5 kids in tow. This was not an easy feat. I had visions of my kids running wild through the store while the baby screamed & I had a meltdown. Sometimes the fear of trying something new is worse than the thing itself. But, I had to attempt it sometime. Thank goodness for these giant carts at Target. Everyone fit, and I even fit a few items in the cart as well.  I got some odd looks, and even maintained my sense of humor as the kids chanted/sang through half the store and while checking out. First time is always the hardest. I'm not going to say I "enjoyed" it, but at least I know I can do it.

Pregnancy preparation and paranoia

Preregistered at hospital for delivery - check
New car seats on order - check
New bunk beds setup - check
One package of newborn diapers - check
One can or infant formula - check
Baby car seat and pack & play accessible - check
Box of newborn clothes pulled out of storage - check
Almost done paying the OB/Gyn - check
Ready for baby to come in less than 3 weeks - no way.

With all of those items checked off, you'd think I was ready for baby #5 to join our family. I'm not.  It's not that I don't want this baby to join us, I'm just not quite emotionally prepared yet.  I live most of my 9-1/2 months of pregnancy in denial and paranoia. I've known far too many friends and family members who have miscarried or had stillborns, that until I hear that baby cry for the first time, I live in a bit of paranoia about what could go wrong. Maybe I'm missing out on some of the "joy" of pregnancy, but that is my reality. I'm just now reaching the physically uncomfortable stage where you're willing to go through labor & delivery to get past that.  Here's to hoping the next 3 weeks bring me less stress and more emotional preparedness and excitement!

Breastfeeding Trauma

I spent the first 6 weeks of my first child's life starving her. Really.  She was born weighing 5 lbs 6 oz and within the first two weeks she had dropped to 4 lbs 12 oz. This was despite the fact that I was feeding her every hour. Literally. We're talking feeding her from 8am-8:15am, then 9am-9:15am, etc. It was an absolutely horrible experience. I'm almost 7 years away from that experience, and I still have a difficult time thinking about it.

My plan when my baby was born was to breastfeed exclusively. Every book and article I had read talked about the amazing benefits and I couldn't think of any reason why I wouldn't or couldn't. I tried. Probably about as much as I possibly could. As I mentioned earlier, I fed my baby every hour, and yet still she wasn't gaining weight and was in fact losing some weight. I went to a lactation specialist to make sure she could latch on. I tried different ways of holding the baby. I tried pumping before feeding her to get the milk going. I tried herbal tea. I tried taking fenugreek. And I prayed and cried a lot. A lot. I'm pretty sure my husband has blocked those 6 weeks out of his memory as well.  It's amazing we ever had more kids after this experience.

Everything I had ever read seemed to say that everyone can breastfeed, it's just a matter of putting in the effort. Believe me, I put in the effort. I'm not sure I can adequately describe the feelings of guilt and inadequacy. "I'm just trying to do what's best for my baby. Why is it not working?" "My sister doesn't have a problem breastfeeding, why is it so difficult for me?" "This is supposed to be a beautiful experience having a newborn and bonding. Why does it feel like hell?"

I think my 3 sisters and mom saved my sanity. I don't know if they had some kind of schedule setup, but they would each call me and check up on me and see how I was doing, listen to me cry, and give me encouragement and advice.

Finally, after 6 weeks, my doctor told me "Look, I don't care what the lactation specialists are saying, this baby needs some more nourishment. You need to supplement with some formula." I felt like a failure. But I also felt completely and utterly exhausted. I "gave in" and bought some formula and started feeding it to my baby after nursing each time. Within 2 weeks she had gained about 2 pounds. She was a different child. She was sleeping better. She was not crying all the time. I was sleeping better. I was not crying all the time. I realized that my pride and reliance on book knowledge had caused way too much suffering for 6 weeks. We eventually settled into a routine of me nursing her, followed by pumping with a rented electric pump. I did this until she was almost 9 months old.

Not everyone can breastfeed. Regardless of what the "experts" may say. Regardless of whether even your other family members are able to do it. It is a great thing for your child, and I applaud people that can do it. My body does not produce enough milk. I've never known what it means to be engorged. I barely even change bra sizes when I'm pregnant and have a baby. My mom and 2 other sisters have had this same problem. It wasn't for lack of trying.

I no longer feel any guilt over not breastfeeding my other children. I tried for 2 weeks with my second child, but had to supplement the whole time as he was another small baby (5 lbs 6 oz) and had to spend 2 days in the NICU as they tried to get him to keep food down. I think he latched on once. I decided that it was better for my sanity and mental health to just use a bottle. I knew I would have to pump also, and nursing then pumping while also trying to take care of my 22 month old toddler and a new baby was just an overwhelming thought. My husband was willing to support me with whatever I thought best, but I think he sighed a giant sigh of relief when I decided to use a bottle.

Breastfeeding can be a sensitive topic for a lot of people. There is a lot of pressure and a lot of guilt and pain associated with it.  I think it's important for new moms to understand that and to talk about how it's going with someone. Don't be afraid to say it's difficult and to ask for help. And don't be afraid to use a bottle. My children are fairly well adjusted, healthy and intelligent. Most importantly, though, I love my children and family and have done what is best for them and for me. Isn't it great that we can all be different and have different experiences as we raise our families?

Sleep deprivation math

We went camping last weekend, and so of course my children were awake until about 11 pm.  This is long past their normal bedtime of 7 pm (where most of them are asleep by 8 pm).  You would think that after coming home and having one good night's rest, that somehow this would equal out and they would be back to normal.  I've found that it almost always takes 2 good nights of sleep, though, to make up for every 1 late night.  And it's not just my children.  I think I have this same problem.  I'm never as tired the morning after a late night as I am the following day, as if there's a one day lag.

I started calculating what this means for catching up for sleep in my lifetime, if I have to have 2 good nights' sleep to make up for every 1 bad night of sleep.  I pretty sure I went through 4 years of high school and 5 years of college without many good nights' sleep.  So, 9 years x 2 to make up for it, would mean I would need 18 years of good sleep.  Maybe the first 13 years of my life I slept pretty good, so that gets me pretty close.  Then we get to starting to raise a family.  We can rule out about 6 months of each pregnancy x 4 children, so there's another 2 years.  Oh, and then there's the first 3 months of having a new child when you're up in the middle of the night regularly, x 4, so there's another 1 year.  That's 3 years, so I'll need another 6 years to make up for that.  I'm pretty sure that's not going to happen until all my children are older and done with night terrors, bad dreams, etc.  Oh, but wait, then there's are those teenage years when I'm up worrying about my children or waiting for them to come home at night. 

I've decided I should probably stop calculating it all and just go to sleep.  Apparently I need all the good nights' sleep I can get.

Envy

The following conversation occurred between my 3 yr old son and me while I was changing his new baby brother's diaper:

3 yr old: "What's that under his privates?"
Me: "You have that too."
3 yr old: "His is bigger than mine."

I had no real response to that. Oh, the joy of little boys.

My Amazing Newborn Blog

Welcome to my amazing blog about my newborn baby.  Oh, wait.  He's 2 months old and I have posted on my blog one time since he was born. 

I had all kinds of thoughts before baby #4 was born about how I would blog about those first precious weeks of having a new baby and all the wonderful experiences I was having.  To be honest, though, it was the middle of tax season and I was just so overwhelmed and busy that none of  those posts ever happened.  By the time the baby was finally in bed (or just being held by my wonderful husband so I could work), I was furiously trying to spend an hour or two checking emails and working so that I never had time to even check other blogs, much less post my own.

So, here I am back again.  Life has calmed down, although it's still rather busy.  My newborn baby boy is now 2 months old and starting to have more of a schedule.  I guess it's time for me to have more of a schedule also and start getting things done (or maybe just blogging).

Claustrophobia

I'm feeling a little claustrophobic these days, and not just because I can't really go anywhere with my newborn. My 3 older children love their new baby brother. A lot.  Is it possible to say too much? They are all really good at getting his clothes, and his blanket, and his diaper, and a wipe, and a bottle, and a pacifier, etc. I really appreciate the help, but I'm kind of missing my personal space right now.  I'm pretty sure the novelty of having a baby around the house will wear off eventually, except for with my almost 2 year old, who sees him as a new favorite toy.  I'm pretty sure it's impossible for her to be in the same room with him and not be touching him.  I don't have to hold him all the time, but if I'm not it means I have to be on guard for him.  I know that I will miss having my children around all the time, but if they could give me an inch or too, it sure would be nice!

The inevitable question

So my 5 year old daughter finally asked the inevitable question of her pregnant mother.  No, she didn't ask where babies came from.  But she did look at me kind of funny after breakfast today and say "So, how does the baby get out?"  With her, my 3 year old son and my 1 year old daughter staring at me, I paused as I quickly thought of all the different ways I could answer the question.  Do I give her graphic details? Do I lie? Do I make up a story that explains what a beautiful thing childbirth is? Is there a perfect response to this question?

I settled with telling her that some people have their stomachs cut open for the baby to come out, with medicine given to them so it doesn't hurt and they can't feel it.  I told her girls have a place near where they pee where the baby comes out. It's kind of like when you poop.  They thought it was hilarious to think you kind of poop out a baby.  When they're a little bit older, I'm sure I can have a proper discussion with them about how babies are born, but for now, I think they really just wanted to know in basics.  It caught me off guard.  Hopefully I haven't scarred their views of childbirth and their proper scientific learning for life!

Breaking Point

Do you ever reach your breaking point with your children?  Actually, a more appropriate question would be: how often do you reach it?  I remember being single and seeing a parent yell at their child in the grocery store and thinking, "How can they do that? The kid looks like he's maybe only 3 years old". That, of course, was before I had my own children. 

I remember reaching my breaking point with my first child when she was just a baby and thinking there was something horribly wrong with me that I could feel so angry at a baby who didn't know any better than to continually scream.  I've learned that there's nothing wrong with me - I'm just a normal tired parent. 

I guess the key is to learn to recognize when you're reaching your breaking point before you get there and learn what helps you to not step over that line of feeling vs. acting.  I've learned to say to my husband, "I can not go into the kids' room anymore right now or I'm going to start yelling and throwing things." Then I can just lay down on the bed with the door closed, trying to shut out the crying while I cry and pray and cry and pray some more.  I understand why parents can sometimes do the horrible things they do.  If you have enough stress, tiredness and pressure, and no support system to help you out, I can see how a parent can cross that line.  I consider myself extremely blessed to have a great husband and a great support system to help me out.  I'm also thankful to know I am not alone in having those moments.  I've talked to a mom who was on the phone while shut in her closet. I guess we all need our own "safe" place to go when we're reaching our limit.

(By the way, don't worry - I'm not at a breaking point right now.  If I was, there's no way I'd have the clarity of mind to sit and blog about it.)

Musings courtesy of Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson

We just watched "The Game Plan" the other night, starring Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson.  His movies always bring on deep thinking and introspection. Seriously, though, this movie got me thinking.  In the movie, the main character has an 8 year old daughter show up on his doorstep and disrupt his self-centered single life.  After taking care of her by himself for 1 month, he's crushed to see her go and ready to have her live with him full-time.

I don't know about you, but it sure took me more than a month to adjust to being a new parent. In fact, the first 6 weeks of being a new mom were some of the most unpleasant ones I've ever had.  I kept hearing people talk about what a beautiful it was to be a new mom, and all I thought was that I was completely overwhelmed and exhausted. Granted, there were some extenuating circumstances including nursing not working, the baby eating every hour on the hour, and still weighing 6 pounds at 6 weeks old.  Some of the problem came, though, from just having my life completely turned around and disrupted.  Apparently my life before having kids was as selfish and self-centered as a professional football player.

I don't know if it's because I was a little older when I got married and started having kids, or if it's because I worked in the business world for so long before having kids, but becoming a mom was a difficult adjustment for me. I love being a mom now, and having child #2 was not a huge adjustment.  I guess I had already emotionally surrendered myself to my children and putting them first. It was just a matter of adding him into our life and schedule rather than find a brand new life and schedule for myself.

I love that much of my life revolves around my children now. I love that having children has taught me to be less selfish and put someone else's needs first.  I also know that Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson certainly knows how to adjust to these things much faster than I did.

The Human Cheerio Vacuum

Why is it that my 1 year old, when given Cheerios on her high chair tray, immediately proceeds to throw them on the floor one by one. If I try to hand her one to eat, she refuses it. However, if I'm trying to sweep the floor, and have a large pile of dirt that includes a Cheerio in the stack, she immediately tries to grab it and put it in her mouth. I find myself having to cover the stack of dirt/Cheerios with the broom until I can grab the dustpan and sweep it up. Otherwise, the human Cheerio vacuum will lunge for it and eat it, no matter how old or disgusting it is.