May 5

Four years ago today, I gave birth for the first time.

I woke up in so much pain. My back was killing me, as it had been off and on for a month or two, but along with this came extreme cramps. Like the worst period ever. I barely made it to the bathroom, then the couch. I pleaded with husband (at the time) not to go to work that day. "Something's wrong," I said, "Something is definitely happening".
"Call me when you know," he said, and walked out the door.
So I lay there on the couch, trying to drink some water, trying to feel the baby move, trying to decide if the pain was letting up even a little bit to come back in waves, like contractions I had learned about. When none of these things were happening and I couldn't handle it anymore, I called my doctor. She had the day off - she was part of a maternity group and I was technically supposed to go to whoever was on call that day. But she told me to come in anyway and she would tell me if I should go to the hospital. So husband came home and took me to see her.
While he waited outside talking on his phone, Joan took me into her office and checked me over. After only a couple of minutes, she told me, "I can't find the heartbeat. I want you to go to the hospital right away. Do you have a way to get there?" We went outside to find husband, who had the decency to hang up the phone as he met my doctor for the first time. Her greeting words: "I can't find a heartbeat. Drive to the hospital as quickly as you can. Do not stop for anything."
By this time, I could feel the waves of the contractions. It was not a great car ride.
The hospital knew we were coming and rushed us in quickly. Within only a few minutes, someone had had a look at our baby and told us with absolute certainty that there was no life in there. I remember thinking, "Why aren't they just cutting me open? Why aren't they trying to get the baby out to save its life?" So I asked, "What now?"
"Now you go through labour and give birth."
You're kidding me.
They weren't.
I don't think they even bothered to ask if I wanted an epidural. They just arranged for it to happen. Not that I'm complaining. If I even felt a contraction, they kicked it up so that I was in no pain.
I don't know who they were. I couldn't have picked out a single face. I don't know which doctor was there to deliver my baby, even though there were only five in the group and I'm sure I've met them all by now. I know Joan (my doctor) made it there in time to help for the birth, even though it was her day off. I know I tore something awful, but couldn't even estimate how many stitches they put in. I know she was almost ten pounds, but I would have to guess an exact weight. They sent someone in to take pictures, which I will forever be grateful for, but it was extremely awkward. How do you pose with a dead baby? You can't very well smile.
Somehow they found me a private room, something else I will forever be grateful for. But all I wanted to do was go home.

All of this keeps running through my head, obviously, being May 5. Being the day that my first baby girl would have turned four. But it's running through my head a lot lately, in general. Because I'm kind of freaking out. Baby girl number 2 is due in just 6 weeks. All preparations have been made. And I'm excited. But each time I ooh and aah over some purchase I've made for her, I immediately think, "But why did I bother? I've just spent money on something she may never use." Every single day, at some point, I come to a realization that I haven't felt her move in what feels like ages, and I panic. I know, logically, that most of my day is spent caught up in watching Ben, running around, not having the time to just sit and feel for kicks, and most of them get missed. But even so, I don't think she's as busy as he was, and that scares me. I know, logically, that there's less space in there these days for her to move, and she won't be quite as busy. I also know, logically, how extremely slim the odds are that I would have a baby stillborn. But when you've been the odds, the numbers mean nothing. The fact that she moved an hour ago doesn't guarantee she'll move in another hour. One ultrasound may show that things are fine, but there's no reason that can't change by the next morning.

I know that I will get through it ok. I know I have amazing support in Matthew, no matter what may happen. I cannot even begin to express how grateful I am for that.

But I will be so extremely happy when this baby is born, the uncertainty of pregnancy is over, and I can actually watch her breathe. . .

Adventures of a Menstrual Cup! Day 2

Loving!! Seriously. After my first full day, I have no regrets. 

I put it in at the end of my shower, which on it's own was fantastic, as there was no mad dash to the toilet when I turned the water off. I dried off and moisturized my freshly shaved legs with much leisure :). A couple hours later, went to the bathroom, left it in, then went on a fairly long (7-8 km) walk/jog. Nooooo problems. I never would have left the house without changing a tampon first (and I always felt like I had to change one when I went to the bathroom)! Emptied and reinserted when I got home, but left it in the rest of the day with no discomfort, no leaks. Seriously love it. 

I don't see any other reason to continue this saga, so if you have any questions, you'll have to ask!

Adventures of a Menstrual Cup! Day 1

In case I still have a couple of readers out there, and in case they are interested in this sort of thing (like I obviously am), today I successfully used my first menstrual cup! Kind of weird, right? Wrong! Just like a tampon, but without the garbage and clogged septics! It's like the difference between cloth and disposable diapers, but even less mess. In case you are interested, the one I opted for was the lunette cup. Noteworthy notes:

1) I expected there would be a bit of a learning curve, so I waited to try it when I was home for the evening. So. Simple. Granted, this probably would not have been the case when I was 13. Or even 20. But, honestly, I was blown away by how easy it was to put in. I was even all, "no, that can't be right, that was way too easy". But - no leaks! 

2) Comfort. Just like a tampon, if done right, it's like there's nothing there. There's a little plastic thingy on the end, like the string of a tampon, I guess so it doesn't get lost somewhere up there.  This can be trimmed to your desired comfort level, and I did just this. It was a slight nuisance at first, but cut to half the length, I feel nothing. A+ for comfort. 

3) I get this (weird and disgusting) joy out of seeing how much blood there is each time I empty it. Which is waaaay more often than I need to. Because it holds a ton. 

4) It really worked! I was a little skeptical about this whole suction thing and its ability to catch everything, but I had no reason to worry. 

So I'm sold. Day 1 was a success.

My Soulmate

I love this man.

He is the hardest worker I know. He works double jobs whenever the opportunity arises, he supports us  and he loves that I get to stay home with Benjamin as much as I do.

He speaks to me in Taylor Swift song titles:

 

And when he writes me little notes and uses the wrong "your", I actually find it endearing:

He's a little romantic, and sends me photos like this:

He calls me sweet names:

And says sweet things. . .

And when I make myself look ridiculous, he makes himself look even sillier.

I cannot count the things I love about this man.

But texts like this are pretty near the top:

Crib napping!

We're "crib training" right now, and this feels like the first time in almost eight months that I've actually sat down and thought, "what should I do?" My arms are free. My coffee is made and in front of me. The laundry is in the dryer. The house is (mostly) clean. And Benjamin is napping. This is awesome.

I've actually really enjoyed co-sleeping. For a cuddler like Ben, I am definitely all for it. I am not for crying it out, for these reasons:
First, the first three months of a baby's life are like the "fourth trimester" (some good reading: http://www.becomingmamas.com/life-in-the-fourth-trimester/). If your baby wants to be attached to you (as Benjamin did, very, very much), it just seems so cruel to me not to allow that.
Second, where else in the animal kingdom do you see parents drop their kid off screaming and go wander off to sleep? It just doesn't happen.
Third, I love cuddles. I really miss Matthew when he isn't here at night, because he's very cuddly. When I'm exhausted or sad, all I want to do is cuddle up with him and it makes me feel instantly better. If he just walked away from me when I was crying, I would cry harder. And I would be MAD. So who can blame cuddly babies?
Fourth, and most important, if we didn't co-sleep, we would've spent the first few months like zombies. We like to sleep. This was the only way we could.
And, back on subject, it's not terrible to have to sit and watch tv while Benjamin naps in my arms. In the evening, Matt comes home and takes over as parent, and I have some time to get things done. Or I can say, "I have a sleeping baby, can you do the dishes?" But. . . now Matt is not here and there is no relief. Except, potentially, naps. 

On one hand, it seems mean to "abandon" him in his crib so soon after daddy "abandoned" him to go out to sea.  On the other, it's the perfect time for us to set up some routines. And mostly, I just need a way to have a break throughout the day. So I have tried to do it nicely. 

The first day, I put him in his crib, sat down beside him, and read to him. He screamed for an hour and a half, and he looked at me with tear filled eyes, and questioned why I wouldn't end his suffering. It was heartbreaking, but I couldn't feel too guilty - I was right beside him, so he couldn't feel alone! He eventually fell asleep and took a half hour nap. Just long enough for a bath. I was so proud, I took a picture. 

The next day, it took an hour for him to fall asleep, with only half as much crying. I took another picture. 

The last couple times it's taken 20 minutes tops! That's pretty awesome. He's always been a 45 minute napper, which I think will be just the right amount of time for me to do some dishes, fold some laundry, and sit down and think, "now what?" before he starts crying. 

Don't worry, that's probably the last picture I'll take of him napping for a while. 

Ben can continue to sleep with me at night, at least until Matthew comes home. I don't want to deprive him (or me!) of all sleepy time cuddles at once. But I sure do love those daytime crib naps. And I think they will be essential for my sanity in the coming weeks!

Note: I am not for or against crib sleeping - I am for happy babies! Some babies will happily go to sleep in their cribs from day one, and they have very lucky parents! Ben was just not one of those babies, and we had to find what worked for him. And for us. And we're pretty lucky parents too :)

On Losing A Baby

The first thing that bothered me to no end was that the world continued to produce babies. I went through my pregnancy feeling alone, having no mom friends, no future friends for my future child, and, yet, when I lost her, suddenly babies were everywhere. Everyone was pregnant. I drove past people pushing strollers down the street and I was mad at them. Mad because my stroller was better. I had put hours upon hours of time and research finding what I wanted, and then more hours tracking one down, and these people went out to Walmart and bought the cheapest thing off the shelf - how did they deserve a baby more than I did? People would ask us, "how are you doing around other babies?" "Do you mind if these people bring their baby to dinner?" and Bill would immediately respond, "We're doing just fine, obviously people will keep having babies." "Yes, of course, we really want to meet their baby." But we were not just fine, we did not want to meet other babies. I was mad at the world for allowing babies to continue to be born. There should have at least been some 24 hour pause out of respect. But then no one would ever be born.

I spent the next month on the couch trying to allow stitches to heal after having had a bad tear. I was somewhere between living in filth and cleaning in pain. Bleeding seemed to last forever, and my milk coming in added insult to injury. It took a year to return to my original weight. All of these things would have been worthwhile, had there been a baby to share it with. But I was now a mother without a baby. Something that had never really been there was now missing. I needed a baby. I never knew what to say when faced with the question, "Do you have any kids?" Even when I was pregnant with Benjamin, the question, "is this your first?" confused me. If I said yes, I was in for stories about what pregnancy and labour are like, things I already knew. If I said no, I was asked questions about my first child. If I said, "first baby, second pregnancy", it meant getting into things. Too much complication for a simple question.

People always slip up. At first, they were careful to say the right things, bring up the right subjects, maybe fearing they would be responsible for me breaking into tears. I didn't want to be treated special, but on the other end of things, there were comments that hurt. Things like, "Lia's the first one of us to have a baby!" Not to single Lia out, or make her feel bad, or anyone for that matter. These things just come out. And it's not true. The truth is, "Lia's the first one of us to raise a baby." But how incredibly nit-picky does that sound? There's nobody to blame for this kind of situation, and it's always going to happen. But it doesn't stop it from feeling like a stab in the heart.

Laura was never supposed to be her name. At some point during the labor, some nurse or doctor told us we should consider thinking of a name, despite the situation - decide if we wanted to use one we had thought of or come up with something new. I said, "Well, we already have names picked out." Bill said, "We should save them for the next kid." Later, I read a blog of someone else who had lost a baby, and she had written, "Never save a name." That's the best advice I've ever read. But, who reads things like that until after the fact? We saved the names. Laura's a nice name. It's pretty. It encapsulated everything that I wished she could have been. But it will never be who she was supposed to be. For months after she was born, people would refer to "Laura" and I would think, "Who?" To me, she will always just be my baby girl. Never save a name. It could never really belong to your next kid anyway.

Romans 8:28. I would never tell anybody, "it's for the best." But you just never know what would have been. Maybe my baby girl would have grown up to be an axe murderer. I highly doubt it. It's really not worth dwelling on. Sometimes I have dreams about Benjamin having an older sister. She will always have a place in my heart. But even with her not here, I am incredibly happy now. I have a baby who needs unending attention and love. I have a man who supports me to no end and loves us both with his whole heart. How could I be luckier?

10 Things I Never Knew

about having a baby:

1. I always heard/read about this magic moment, when you first lay eyes on your baby, or when he wraps his finger around yours, or looks into your eyes, and your heart melts and he instantly becomes your whole world. That didn't happen. When I first saw him, I thought, "I'm so glad that part is over". When I was supposed to be enjoying his first moments alive, I was interrupted by contractions and placenta-delivering. When his eyes first met mine, I thought, "Oh good, he's not cross-eyed!" Maybe some people have THAT moment. But it's not essential - not having it doesn't mean you are any less of a parent.

2. The contractions continue. After the baby, after the placenta, your body continues to have contractions as your uterus shrinks. For the first few days, every time Benjamin nursed, I felt like I was still in labour. I don't remember this happening the first time around, and I've learned since that you feel it much more strongly the second time. It's not cool. But it's proof that your uterus is shrinking!

3. You have a lot of time on your hands. You always hear about people having babies and not knowing where the time goes, being in pajamas until noon. I'm in my pajamas right now, but this is by choice. I don't know how Benjamin has grown so very fast, but the days are long. This doesn't mean you have time to accomplish things. It means you have a lot of time sitting on your butt, either nursing or holding a sleeping baby. I've watched a lot of tv and spent countless hours playing on my phone. And shopping online. For diapers.

4. For the first couple of months, the "essential" baby swing was completely useless. The moment we put Ben down, he would cry. Everything had to be done with baby in arms.

5. Around 4-6 weeks, Benjamin cried for no reason. Every evening. This is the purple period. It's a real thing. We spent the evenings bouncing and walking him around the condo. If we thought he'd settled down and we tried to sit, the cries began again. And he's been such a good, happy baby!

6. It's ok to let him cry. When the above was happening, Matthew was working a lot and I was becoming exhausted. One time, when all of the bouncing and walking wasn't working, I had to leave him crying in his crib while I went and had a cry of my own for a couple of minutes. It's amazing what just minutes of alone time can do for you.

7. Sharing a hospital room sucks. We had signed up for a private room, but there were something like 30 births the night before we went in, and we had to share. This meant that Matthew had to sleep in the family room, which was okay the first night when Ben was exhausted from being birthed. However, the second night sucked. Each time Benjamin fell asleep, I would place him in his bin and he would immediately wake up crying. Not wanting to wake up the baby girl next to us (or her mother), I would pick him back up to put him back to sleep. This happened all night. There was no co-sleeping in the hospital, so if he was in my bed, I was awake. I got no sleep until Matthew got to come back in in the morning.

8. Rules don't always work. Ben was supposed to sleep in his hammock beside the bed. But it worked out like the hospital. No matter how deeply he was sleeping, being set down woke him up, and being alone made him cry. So, instead of getting up and down 50 times a night and none of us sleeping, he moved into our bed and we all slept wonderfully. This kept us both sane and safe. Nursing doesn't only make babe sleepy, but also releases hormones to make mom sleepy. Knowing he was sleeping in our bed allowed us to arrange things accordingly, rather than us both falling asleep unexpectedly. Babies are all different. Things may not always work out as planned. Be willing to be lenient.

9. It can be overwhelming. Sometimes the realization washes over you that you are completely responsible for this little being, and you will be, 24/7, for the next 19 years. This isn't the most comforting thought when you are exhausted and need some alone time. Take a bath.

10. Diaper changes aren't that bad. Actually, they're kind of fun - a good bonding time, smiley, chatty time. And diapers are awesome. And, of course, smiles and chatter make everything worth it.

Bonus! 11. Not only do smiles and chatter make everything worth it, I think I love him most when he cries out of pain or fear - my heart hurts for him and all I want to do is hug him close and cuddle. He needs me. Sometimes, it seems too much, but as he learns to do things on his own, making me proud, I am also needed less. His independence is bittersweet. But it's sooooooooo nice to be able to lay him down on the bathroom floor and have the lights entertain him while I shower. And we can finally use his baby swing!