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Teddy’s Birth Day

Birthday Boy

Dear Teddy,

Today is the day you turn one!  Happy Birthday, little guy.  I’d like to tell you a little story about the day that you were born…

My pregnancy with you was much more difficult than with Jack.  It was relatively problem-free, only much more painful and uncomfortable.  Which probably had something to do with the fact that we not only put the house on the market in my first trimester, had an average of three showings a week through the second trimester, and moved when I was about 29 weeks pregnant, but we then we proceeded to have almost the entire interior of the house painted, we renovated the kitchen, and had several additional repairs completed throughout the inside and outside of the house.  So, it was a busy time, not to mention the fact that I had Jack to look after.  So, needless to say, I did not love being pregnant the second time around.  But I did love food… I craved all kinds of foods this time around… Texas Pete’s hot sauce, Squirt, chocolate cake, cinnamon rolls, cool whip, pretzel fish, cupcakes (lord have mercy the cupcakes), popsicle, humus and pita chips, rotisserie chicken, and chocolate milk.

I had been having contractions the entire month of October and by the last week of my pregnancy I went to bed nearly every single night almost positive that I was having the baby that night, with contractions close to ten minutes apart.  On October 29 (my due date) I dropped Jack off at preschool and went to my OB appointment.  After arriving I told the nurse that I was absolutely miserable and was planning on begging to be induced as soon as possible.  The doctor gave me my exam and told me I was still about 2 cm dilated (I had been for two weeks).  So she “lightly” stripped my membranes… which was horribly uncomfortable.  And asked me if I wanted to schedule an induction.  Yes, please!  So the nurse did everything she could to schedule me in for the following day, because my doctor was on call.  I then went home packed my bag and proceeded to have lots of contractions all night long, but nothing very regular or very painful at all.

I woke up at about 4:30am on October 30, ready and waiting for the call that was supposed to come in at 5:30am, about whether or not the hospital was ready for us to come in or if they would have us come later.  So I waited.  And waited.  And finally called them at 6am.  “Oh, yeah, didn’t they tell you… if they have a bed for you then they’ll call.  Otherwise just wait for the call.”  Ug.  So we waited.  And waited.  And at about 11:00am I laid down for a nap and E took Jack outside to play.  And the phone rang.  “Um, where have you been!  We’ve been calling and calling.”  The wrong number.  Our old number from our old house.  Why they had that number, I still don’t know.  I checked and double checked when I scheduled the induction the day before.  Anyway, so we freaked out and high-tailed it to the hospital to have the baby!

We arrived right before noon, checked in, and my doctor checked me and broke my water.  I was 4 cm dilated and pretty much in labor.  They monitored my contractions for about an hour and after an hour my contractions weren’t as regular as they would have liked them to be.  So they decided to give me a little pitocin to nudge things along.  At this point I was so hungry I could pass out, not having eaten at all that day.  So the nurse brought me some jello and an orange popsicle.  And for the record, that was the best damn popsicle I’ve ever had.  Anyway, where was I… the pitocin.  Prior to giving me the pitocin, my nurse asked me if I wanted my epidural before the pitocin or after the contractions got going.  I said after, since I was in no pain at all at the time… and why would I want an epidural if I wasn’t in any pain?  Big mistake.  BIG mistake.  I had enough time to eat a jello cup and a popsicle and by the time I started the second jello cup the contractions come on at full force, leaving the nurse scrambling to get me pumped with fluid and to get the anesthesiologist.  I was in a ridiculous amount of pain for what seemed like forever.  After the epidural was working and I was comfortable, they checked me and low and behold, I was 10 cm dilated.

But let’s back up a bit.  The contractions.  I just have to write a bit about them.  Because they were horrible.  Terrible.  Awful.  And I absolutely must get this in writing, so that when I start thinking about #3 (which I have already), I can just remind myself… and remember that epidural.  Anyway, so I’m clutching onto the side rail of the bed, and the contraction rips through me like a white light, so intense that I feel like I’m going to tear in half, I look up at E, and he’s on his crackberry (I mean Blackberry), messaging away.  He claims that he was sending an email to my mom… but he will forever be in the doghouse for that one.  I swear.  I seriously would not have survived (well, I’m sure I would have but at the time I did not feel like I would have) without my nurse.  When she was not frantically searching out the anesthesiologist, screaming down the hall, “I NEED YOU NOW!”, she was at my side.  Talking me through my breathing.  At one point I was leaning forward rolled up in a ball (probably right before the needle for the epidural was inserted) tucked into her chest.  And I seriously felt like I was all tucked up in her.  Like she enveloped me and was taking on some of this pain for me.  I know it probably sounds crazy, but it’s almost a little spiritual.   Or something like that.  It’s truly amazing, the places you go when you are in that kind of pain.  And this woman was amazing.  She had her shit together and knew exactly what she is doing.  If I have another baby, I want her there.

Ok, so where was I… oh, right 10 cm dilated!  And my doctor is nowhere to be found.  I’m not sure how long we were waiting, but it was awhile and the nurses (my favorite had to leave… shift change… and two others took over) were getting very concerned about whether she was going to make it.  And of course she did.  I started pushing and she waltzed in, all easy breezy, as usual, happy to see me and all, “let’s have a baby!”  So I pushed for about thirty minutes and at 4:17pm we  had a beautiful baby boy.  With lots of black hair.  You weighed 8 pounds and 6 ounces, (a whole pound heavier than your brother) and 20.5 inches long.

We named you Theodore Evan George.  Theodore, even though it’s one of  your brother’s middle names because I always loved the name Teddy, Evan is for my mother’s mother Evelyn and George is for your Daddy’s grandpa George, who just passed away a few weeks ago.  And I’m so glad we named you for him because as much as everyone else loved him, I did too.  From the first time I met him, he was so sweet and kind to me, he called me “kiddo” and I loved him like he was my own Grandpa.  I can’t imagine two better people to be named for.  Two people that stand out in my mind in such a positive way.

Teddy, what a crazy ride it’s been.  It was a little rocky of a start for us (well for me it was)… a spinal headache from the epidural in the hospital, a third degree tear, and some pretty ridiculous post partum depression.  But I can honestly tell you that God only gives you what you can handle.  And although it was a difficult start, my love and connection to you only strengthened through it all.  You made me stronger.  You made me calm (except for that time you had RSV) and you were exactly what I needed.  You made me want to be a better mother and a better wife and a better person.  Your differences from Jack (which are insanely different) help to balance our house perfectly.  And until you were born things just didn’t quite feel right.  What an amazing addition to our family you have been!  You are calm and sweet and only speak up when you are hungry, tired or if you have had your fill of Jack’s harassment.  You love for your brother is like nothing I’ve ever seen.  And while he gives you some serious trouble, you just keep coming back for more.  It’s so exciting to see you getting bigger (catching up with your brother) and learning to crawl then walk and interact with Jack.  It makes me so excited to see your relationship grow.  You will always have your brother and he will always have you.  I feel blessed knowing that you two have each other, a friend for life.  Never forget that.

Thank you for being born to me, my sweet boy.  You and your brother fill me up, in a way that I cannot describe.  I can’t imagine my world without you in it.  I love you so so much.  Happy Birthday Teddy!

Love,

Mom

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Possessed by the devil and ready for some pancakes and syrup.

Possessed by the devil and ready for some pancakes and syrup.

sitting still... for just a second.
Sitting still… for just a second.
RSV, who me?  Oh yes, poor Teddy bear... a post all in itself.
RSV, who me? Oh yes, poor Teddy bear… a post all in itself.

 So, one of these days things will calm down and I can update you on our first Christmas without travel which somehow still managed to be unbelievably hectic holy cow.  Until then please enjoy some photos… here.  And if you look really close you can see some of the kitchen updates… once we’re completely done with all of the details (lighting and touch-up paint etc.) I’ll post before and after photos.  Anywho, I’m getting waaaaay ahead of myself.  Enjoy the Christmas photos.  And Happy New Year by the way!  I actually made a resolution this year… 30 days of shred.  Oh my goodness I’m sore.

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A list!  What a surprise!  And only because I do not think it’s possible for me to think and communicate in any other form… 

  1. Sick sick sick.  Three weeks ago Jack was sick, the following week I was sick (very very sick), then Teddy was sick (and in the middle of it all Jack was sick again with a stomach bug… yuck), and now Jack is sick again!  Oh my holy goodness (a Jackism) I cannot take it anymore!!
  2. So, shortly after my rainbows and butterflies post the walls came crumbling down, I got sick, went a little batty, got a glimpse at what it’s like to see a sick newborn and I quickly had a fantastic panic attack.  I suppose that’s what I get for gloating about how wonderful life is.  No, really, in all seriousness, the anxiety is pretty difficult to deal with this time around.  Luckily I have a great support system and I’m working on it.  So hopefully it’ll only get better from here on out.
  3. The Jackisms these days are killing me…  Teddy has been referred to as a Grumy Wizard (Little Einsteins) and a Grumpy Old Troll (Dora), dinosaurs are dinoswords, holy goodness, he holds a star on the Christmas tree and says “star light, star light”,  when he’s in a good mood he gives E or myself a hug and says, “Merry Christmas, Daddy”, and he told his preschool teacher (Miss Tammey) that he sat on Santa’s lap and asked for boobie traps for Christmas.
  4. I am still working on the birth story.  I swear.
  5. I’m not sure I will ever finish the Christmas shopping.  Let alone get it all wrapped.
  6. Teddy continues to amaze me with his insatiable hunger and inability to sleep any longer than four hours in a row (with an occasional five hour stretch… usually followed by a two or three hour stretch).  So we still are not getting very much sleep.
  7. Speaking of sleep… last night Jack woke up with a fever right in the middle of Teddy’s long stretch.  Then again in the middle of his short stretch.  And E somehow ended up sleeping on the floor in Jack’s room.  What a way to start your 34th year of life.  Speaking of which…
  8. Happy Birthday babe.  Hopefully your day is much better than our night last night.
  9. Sarah… so sorry, don’t think I’m going to get to the blog tag after all.  Well, let’s see if I can right now… Ok, six random things about me.  1.  I do everything in a particular order.  For instance, my shower must be done in a particular order otherwise I’ll forget to wash a random body part.  Last week I showered and didn’t wash my hair and forgot to wash my feet.  2.  I have to tap pop cans before I open them.  The spray people!  Like it ever helps.  3.  I sleep with a sweatshirt.  And you can barely tell it’s a sweatshirt because it’s in such ridiculous condition.  End of subject.  4.  I smell E’s ears.  And face.  5.  I love Peter Cetera.  And I’ve been to a concert.  6.  I eat the same thing for breakfast every day.  And have been doing so for years now.  And if E makes pancakes all I can think about is my blueberry nutri-grain waffles until I eat them the next day.  The end.

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"I'm picking out a thermos for you..." (ok, no sense... just the first thing that came to my head)

"I'm picking out a thermos for you..." (ok, no sense... just the first thing that came to my head)

 

Santa's little helper

Santa's little helper

Oh, my adorable newborn... he smiles.  (Please ignore the quality of the photo... and the crustiness of his face.)

Oh, my adorable newborn... he smiles. (Please ignore the quality of the photo... and the crustiness of his face.)

And he has some fantastic dimples.  (Yes, another fuzzy one... but seriously, he's SMILING.)

And he has some fantastic dimples. (Yes, another fuzzy one... but seriously, he's SMILING.)

And he gets pissed really quick.

And he gets pissed really quick.

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Okay.  I’m coming to the realization that I may never get to the birth story.  And you all may have to live with it.  No, really, I have to get it down in words eventually.  Just not now.  Anywho, my brain is fried and I’m only feeling capable of a list to get my thoughts out.  So here it is…

  1. Teddy.  Oh my fat little man.  We had his one month well visit today and the big boy is well, big.  10 pounds, 12 ounces to be exact.  Talk about putting on the pounds.  I love it.  I love his fat little face and his fat little neck and his fat little rolls on his legs.  He’s a healthy little man.  75th percentile for weight and head circumference and 90th percentile for height… you know what that means, his head isn’t too big for his body!  Woo Hoo! 
  2. So part of the reason he is so fat is because we have switched over to formula.  I’m done with the boobs.  I know.  Already?  Well, without going into it… let’s just say that between the lactation consultant visits, and the breastfeeding, formula feeding to supplement, and pumping pumping pumping (oh lord I was so tired of pumping) I was just not cut out for breastfeeding.  I never could seem to get to a point where I could produce enough milk for the little beast, which is most likely due to my hypothyroidism, so I just decided that spending 2-2.5 hours of a 3 hour cycle feeding/pumping was just too much.  Not to mention that I have to actually to keep up with Jack and the rest of our lives.  And although it was probably one of the hardest decisions I’ve had to make in a while (especially considering this is probably going to be the last baby I give birth to) it was the best decision I could have made for our family.  I’m so much happier and on top of things and everyone else is happier and more laid back… probably because Mommy isn’t freaking out.
  3. So, I’m sick.  Woo Hoo.  I’ve got a ridiculous cold and my voice sounds like a thirteen year old boy’s.  It is so much fun, holding back coughs, while feeding Teddy, to the point that I feel like I’m going to turn blue and washing my hands so much that they feel like Brillo pads and sting and bleed.  Oh, yeah, it’s fun.  Man, I’m tired of being sick.
  4. Jack!  Jack is doing surprisingly well.  Despite his inability to speak in an inside voice while Teddy is sleeping, his great love of growling in Teddy’s face, and his new favorite feat of climbing up the side of the crib to pull Teddy’s swaddling blanket off of him or throw Ralphie at him or steal one of his “baby suckers” or growl in his face.  Yeah, he’s a turd.  But for the most part he is just hilarious and keeps us in stitches with his ridiculousness.  Like how he says beautiful… beaur u iful. 
  5. The tree is up!  And decorated!
  6. The Christmas cards have arrived… now I just have to address all 100 of them.  Ugh.
  7. The Christmas shopping is moving along.  Still quite a bit to go… but it’s coming!  Woo Hoo!

So things are going well.  For now.  haha!  We’re still not getting any sleep at all… Teddy can’t seem to make it more than three hours in a row at night (oh, but during the day, I’m sure he’d sleep 8 in a row if I let him).  But you get used to it and you just sort of chug along.  I have to say, I love this.  I love having two boys.  I love looking over at the couch and seeing E burping Teddy while snuggling with Jack.  I love juggling it all.  I never thought I’d say that!  And while it certainly is not easy, it’s just so wonderful having these two little people in our lives.  And this time around is so much more laid back.  I find us laughing so much.  And I’m just so in love.  With it all.  And this is coming from one seriously sleep deprived, sick, unshowered, hungry woman.  haha!!

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Whew!

Ok, so I have about five seconds to whip up a post… here goes.  Should I tell you all about the gruesome details of the delivery*, the superfun epidural migraine and the epidural blood patch to fix it, the low milk supply (which, once again led to no pooping or peeing in my newborn), or the ridiculous schedule of breastfeeding, followed by bottle feeding, followed by pumping OHMY!  No no no… let’s just look at some pictures of my kids.  They make it all worth it.

Someone is enjoying his old bouncy seat almost as much as he did two years ago.

Someone is enjoying his old bouncy seat almost as much as he did two years ago.

Look familiar?  hehehe

Look familiar? hehehe

I love these little hands!!

I love these little hands!!He looks just like Jack did at this age.

He looks a lot like Jack did at this age... only fuzzier (hehehe).

He looks a lot like Jack did at this age... only fuzzier (hehehe).

I’m too lazy to find an old one of Jack.  You’ll just have to take my word for it, for now.
(*)  HUGE baby + small mommy = 3rd degree tear

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Still. Here.

No baby yet.  But I’ve got a doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning.  And I’m fairly certain that I’ll be begging for her to induce me immediately.  Because seriously, the pain and discomfort I’m dealing with at this point is making me crazy.  I am literally watching the clock all day long, waiting for contractions.  And after several days without any, I’ve actually had a busy day today. 

The fact that I’ve had several contractions today is not getting my hopes up in any way at all… I spent all Thursday and Friday of last week with contractions 10 minutes apart.  Called the doctor’s office, concerned that I had to be progressing and afraid that my water would break and I’d already be 5cm.  So they had me come in.  And of course I had to see Dr. McDreamy… I’m not sure you recall, but I HIGHLY embarrassed myself, in front of him while (heavily drugged) I was in labor with Jack.  Anywho, he confirmed for me that I was, in fact, NOT in labor.  STILL only 2cm dilated.  And was dealing with a little FALSE LABOR.  dammit.  So, for now, I am ignoring all contractions.  Sort of. 

In other news, I’ve also been struggling with the most ridiculous ligament pain in my lower abdomen.  By the early evening, it is difficult to walk, lift my legs (especially one at a time), climb the stairs, roll over in bed, and my favorite get out of bed… blah blah blah.  It sucks.  And if I have a particularly busy day, I am beside myself with pain and discomfort.  Soooo… with any girlfriend, late in pregnancy, I’d be telling her to walk walk walk – that’s always good!  And that’s all I want to do, but if I do, I feel terrible.  So I sit.  And watch the clock.  OK, that’s enough bitching.  I’m so over listening to myself complaining.  Mom, I feel so bad for you… listening to me piss and moan two sometimes three times a day… it must be killing you.

So while I’m sitting and watching the clock, enjoy some pumpkin carving photos!

An old pro at scooping out the goop.

An old pro at scooping out the goop.

 

The finished product.

The finished product.

Having a conversation with Grandpa's pumpkin... this was right after he tried to feed the pumpkin.

Having a conversation with Grandpa's pumpkin.

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