The definition of parenting...

It seems to me that parenting is synonymous with worry. I'm not a worrier in my normal life. But something about having this little person completely dependent on me for survival lends itself well to paranoia and worries and fears and frets.

Things I worry about as a new parent (even the second time around)...

• Is my breastmilk making his tummy hurt? Am I burping him well enough? How much poop is too much? Is he grunting because he's miserable?
• Will he get a flat head from laying in one place too often?
• Is it normal for him to cough/gag when he's drinking? What if he does it when he's sleeping?
• Am I talking to him/engaging him enough for his little brain to develop?
• Is he running a fever or just warm from snuggling?
• Am I making enough milk for him? Am I pumping enough to build a stash for when I go back to work? Am I eating/drinking enough to maintain good supply?
• Is his belly firm because of a tumor? 
• Is he too hot when he sleeps? Is he too cold when he sleeps?
• Will he have problems due to his "heart-shaped" tongue? 
• Are his diapers rubbing on his legs too tightly? Are his carseat straps rubbing on him too harshly?
• Is he napping too long? Is he not napping enough?
• Is he overdressed? Is he underdressed?
• ...
• ...

Sigh. It's like that quote...parenting is definitely letting your heart live outside your body. 

One Month

My name is Forrest and I am one month old. I have just started smiling, but save most of my smiles for Daddy. I love to be held and I love looking out windows. I will play in my bouncy chair for a little while so Mom can shower or make dinner, but don't leave me too long. I love getting big sister kisses and get lots of them throughout the day. I'm not a big fan of getting baths or getting my diaper changed, though I do like to stare at my whale on my changing table. I'm finally big enough for 0-3 month clothes and for my awesome cloth diapers! Mom is so excited to not have to buy diapers anymore. I'm still waking up lots at night--some nights it's every 1-2 hours, which makes Mom and Dad kind of grumpy. I usually take one nice long nap in my crib around lunchtime, and if we go anywhere, I'm almost guaranteed to sleep in my carseat the entire time. I've just started cooing and making happy noises. I'm entranced by the shower curtain in my bathroom. I'm a good eater and have had one bottle so far, but usually Mommy feeds me and I still like to eat often throughout the day. I am ONE month old!

"Life" with a newborn

Forrest turned 1 month old yesterday. I had a mini-meltdown. Not because he's growing so fast (which he is) and not because I'll never have this stage again (I won't, but I won't miss it).

I had a mini-meltdown because the fact that Forrest is 1 month old means that it's been over a month since I have had any time for myself that hasn't been delegated to sleeping, showering, or pumping. I am so thankful that I've been able to nurse my son, but the truth is, breastfed babies are very needy. And their needs can only be filled by the Mama. So even though there have been many moments in the last month that I've wanted to hand him off to my husband and run screaming out the door, that's just not an option.

I cannot wrap my head around people that love the newborn stage. I feel kind of crap-parent putting this down in writing and my, oh my, how I adore my son and would do anything for him. But I look forward to the fun ages, when he starts to be mobile and interact more with us. When he isn't 100% dependent on me to meet all of his needs. When my entire life doesn't revolve around which child needs something from me at this moment.

It won't be like this for long.

Middle Name

Inspired by this little guy.

My sweet nephew Keagen who touched so many lives in the short time before he became an angel. It's been almost three years, but still seems like yesterday.

 I can't help but think that Forrest's mellow temperament is the little part of Keagen that lives in him.

When he's ready, he's ready!

Forrest Keagen has arrived! And he made sure that his arrival was worth talking about.

Tuesday, April 3rd came and I was at work, as usual. I was frustrated because I'd been so sure that he was coming early and here we were on the day before his due date and he appeared to be sitting cozy. I had been having contractions for weeks and knew they were doing something as I'd been dilated to 3 cms at my 39 week appointment. We were just ready!

I got home from work Tuesday night and we did our typical things: dinner, bath, watched The Biggest Loser, and went to bed. I didn't even go for a walk I was so disheartened feeling like he was never coming (I did bounce on the yoga ball as I watched TBL).

I went to bed around 9:30, all ready to go to work again the next day and hear all of the "you're still here!?!" comments again. I even ironed my khaki pants that I was going to wear the next day.

Around 10:30, Josh came in to bed. I'm not sure if he woke me or if it was just a coincidence, but I woke up then and felt a weird sensation. I got up and went to the bathroom and sat there debating about whether or not my water had broken. I went back in the bedroom and told Josh that I couldn't decide if my water had broken (he nearly leaped out of bed, until I assured him that he could sleep for a while). I went out in the livingroom for a few minutes and checked Facebook. Almost immediately I could feel contractions coming around my back and belly. They felt different already from the ones I'd been having, so I went back in the bedroom and told Josh that, indeed, I thought my water had broken and maybe he should call his dad who was going to come stay with Heidi when we left for the hospital.

Of course, his parents wouldn't answer their phone. He tried a few times as I walked around packing last minute things and talking to my friend Meagon on the phone. The contractions were pretty close together (2-3 minutes) from the get-go and by 11:30 I was feeling ready to head in, and thankfully Josh was able to get ahold of FIL this time when he called. Around 11:45 FIL arrived at our house and Josh and I set off for the hospital. I had had a couple of more difficult contractions at home, but as soon as we were in the car, they were unbearable. I don't remember a lot of the drive, but Josh says there was some cussing and some yelling. I do remember being stopped at a red light in town and telling him to "just go" when we got to a 4-way stop.

Around 12:15am we pulled into the ER and I stood by the car in agony waiting for a contraction to pass before I could walk in. We had to be buzzed through and I yelled my name to the lady who asked who was checking in. They figured out correctly that I was heading up to the Birth Center. I refused the wheelchair, naively believing that sitting in the car was what was making the contractions so painful. We went up the elevator and navigated through the second floor to the birth center (passing a couple of concerned-looking nurses on the way).

Finally we got to our room and the nurse, Erin, asked me to get into the gown and lay down to get checked. I was at 8cms she said. She went to get the bands that monitor baby's heartbeat and the contractions, but before she could get them on I told her that I felt like I had to push. Josh looked down, she looked down, and she said "yes, you do" and before I even could push, he was coming out. They told me to push one time and he was all the way out. At 12:23am Forrest made his arrival.

He didn't wait for the doctor on call that night (Dr. Fast, coincidentally). He didn't wait for the bed to be taken apart or for the birth cart to be brought in. He didn't even wait for Erin to put her gloves on. Thankfully, he waited just long enough for us to get to the hospital. Josh and I can't help but think of the "what-ifs," like what if FIL wouldn't have answered the phone that last time? Or what if we'd gotten pulled over or hit another couple of red lights?

Less than 2 hours from the time I woke up, my baby boy was in my arms. He is perfect, healthy, and amazing. It was a whirlwind for sure and I am still in disbelief of how it all went down. Fast and furious Forrest.

Tease

I know there are probably many people that are thinking to themselves "why's this girl so impatient, it isn't even her due date yet."

Probably because having contractions that start and stop for like 10 days straight is annoying. Hopes go up. Hopes go down. Seriously boy, just make up your mind!

On impatience and dates

I'm not known for my patience. In general or in pregnancy.

I just had this "feeling" that Forrest was going to be a March baby. That he was going to be early, maybe by a couple of weeks. I was worried about it for some time. Then last week I got super-impatient and anxious to meet him. I'd finished up the things I really wanted to get done at work before I left. We were all ready. I was getting lots of the "you're still here!?!" comments. I was having lots of contractions which made me hopeful.

And so it's now April and he's still sitting pretty. And I'm okay with that. He actually has a most awesome due date and it would be so cool if he waited to come until then.

His due date is 4-4-2012. His Great-Grandmother's birthday is 4-4-1924. How neat would it be for Forrest to be exactly 88 years younger than Nanny? The thought of it is keeping me nice and calm right now.

Of course, come Thursday of this week I'm going to be really impatient again.

Optimistic

I was checked today.

Now, I know enough women and have discussed this with them at various times, to know that being checked really means nothing.

So I thought on my way in to my appointment today "it really doesn't mean anything, no big deal either way." I knew she would check me because we'd agreed that I could get my membranes stripped at this appointment.

But of course, it's so hard not to get your hopes up when you hear that you are 3 cms (a good 3 that could stretch to 4).

I'm glad to know that my contractions have at least been doing something. Now get your act together contractions so we can meet this baby!

The difference a week makes

Last week was a crazy week. I had multiple meetings scheduled each day at work that I really needed to get in before Forrest came. All week long I hoped and prayed that he would just stay cozy in there, so I could get all my stuff checked off.

This week...I'm ready for him to be here. Everything is checked off the list. My office is cleaned. And I'm walking laps waiting and waiting for something to happen. I'm so anxious to meet my boy!

And of course, now he appears as cozy as can be.

Things you do

...when you may or may not be in early labor:

--laundry so all the comfy clothes you've been wearing nightly for the last week are clean for the hospital.
--clean the kitchen so the house is nice if you have visitors.
--charge your cell phone.
--make sure there are some books loaded on your kindle.
--bookmark the "contraction master" website for easier timing
--drink lots of water
--throw a few more things in the bag you've had half-packed for a month
--do more laundry when you realize the white nursing tank didn't get washed
--watch some March Madness
--debate about taking a nap

A first

It's not a secret that I wanted a girl this time around. I am one of four girls and I just adore my sisters and wanted Heidi to be able to experience that bond. When we found out that we were having a boy there was some disappointment, I won't lie. It was expected and both Josh and I thought he was a boy, but I still had this little hope that it was a girl. 

I didn't really start getting attached to him until we had the names narrowed down. 

And then I still had thoughts with each ultrasound that maybe they would tell us we were wrong and I would get my Willa. 

Tonight, at 38 weeks, I was combing through Heidi's hair after her bath and I had this flash to what it would be like to be having another girl...and for the first time, I wasn't excited about it. I don't want a surprise at delivery. I want my Forrest. The boy that I have fallen madly in love with. 

Cannot wait to meet him. After tomorrow, that is.

Three more days

Not until my due date :) That's 15 days away.

Three is the number of days that I absolutely still need to be pregnant in order to get everything done at work that I need to get done before Forrest comes.

I'm not sure if others have this same thing happen. I literally lay in bed at night and go "please do not go into labor tonight."

With Heidi, of course, she was the first so I had no reason to believe I would go early (or on time for that matter). And it was summer, so I wasn't on any kind of schedule or time crunch. Now, I really have no reason to believe that Forrest will be early either. Other than that I have a feeling he will be. I've had more braxton hicks this time around and more powerful ones than I remember with Heidi. I feel like there's a good chance that a second baby will come early. But really, I just have this strong feeling that he's not hanging around until April to make his debut.

Ask me next week if I'm getting impatient and my answer may be different. But for now, I'm perfectly content staying pregnant. At least for the next few days.

My week of appointments

I had 3 (or 4 depending on how you look at it) appointments this week. The first was the pre-birth conference, which I already talked about.

The second was my regular 37 week appointment. It was very uneventful other than sharing that my fasting blood sugars have been high, but she said there really isn't anything to do about that because my daytime's are so low that I'd feel horrible if we tried to medicate just for the fasting ones. So who knows. Less cereal at night would probably be good, but it's the only thing that I want after 7pm. Oh, and I lost a pound and a half according to her chart. I think really the weights have just been crazy-high the last couple of times I've gone in because I haven't gained any weight in over a month on my scale at home.

The third appointment was my growth ultrasound. Supposedly to check Forrest's growth since women with gestational diabetes are at a higher risk for having large babies. But really, I've been measuring right on or a hair small all along, so I don't think any of us really thought there was going to be a ginormous baby in there. And there wasn't. He's measuring a bit small--not anything worrisome and the ultrasound tech said he'll probably chunk up a bit yet, plus we know that ultrasounds can be off by a pound or so either way. At any rate, I was happy to hear 5 pounds 14 ounces at this point and not like already 6.5 or 7 pounds and growing. Knowing that I have to push this kid out in short order here, I'm pleased as punch to think that he's going to be well-under the 8 pound mark, hopefully. And everything else looked gorgeous as well. She said she could give me 8 possible points and we earned 8, so everything was perfect.

Then I had to go upstairs to the birth center for my non-stress test. Of course, this time Forrest cooperated quickly, while I relaxed and watched the Badger game with the super-friendly nurse (who would have let me sit there all afternoon, but I really did have to go back to work).

My goal at this point is to make it at least through this coming week and then maybe I'll start feeling a bit more ready for Forrest to make his arrival. I can say that I still have my baby fever and I'm so excited to meet him and be his Mama. I just like to plan things, so if he can wait for the next week, that'd be awesome.

It's really Real

Today I had my pre-birth conference at the hospital. The nurse asked me a bajillion questions about every random thing like do I want a spiritual nurse to visit, did I get a flu shot, what's the highest degree of education my husband has, etc. etc. I filled out a bunch of forms that said I was consenting to services and to having my insurance billed and I'd had all my patient rights. I filled out the parent information on the birth certificate application. I got a tour of the Birth Center (and got to see a tiny baby snuggling out by the nurses).

I was in and out in about 25 minutes.

On the drive back to work it just became REAL. In a good way. There were so many times over the last 2.5 years that I really didn't think I would ever get to this point again. A surprise pregnancy, a devastating miscarriage, trying again and getting pregnant again right away only to miscarry again. And then trying again and watching the months tick away. I'd set the timeline that if I wasn't pregnant by fall I would be selling the baby stuff, taking down the nursery, moving on per se. And then July of 2011 rolled around and some how the planets all aligned to bring us our Forrest. And now here we are 8 months later just waiting to meet him and hold him and finish our family.

It's finally real. And we're really really lucky.

Dear Insomnia,

So, I kind of thought we had an agreement this time around. You know, since I'm trying to work right up until delivery, you'd give me a little respite. But that's cool. I'm sure it makes perfect sense to go to bed exhausted at 8:30 and wake up on the hour, every hour, until you finally get up at 1:30 to have a snack. I'm sure I'm going to be so well-rested for work tomorrow. Now no one will believe me when I say that I actually do feel pretty good as of yet. But, that's okay. It's cool, really.

Seriously, who are those people that say "enjoy your sleep while you can" to pregnant women. Are they complete morons? Why, yes, I do enjoy having a 6 lb baby laying on my bladder all night, particularly since I'm trying to up my water intake so I don't wake up screaming with calf cramps. It's awesome having to pee every 3.6 minutes, especially since it takes longer to roll over and get out of bed than it does to actually go pee. Not to mention when I do actually fall asleep, it's only to have the most ridiculous dreams ever thought of (why, yes, I am a mermaid in some dreams being attacked by other [vicious] mermaids).

Well, seeing as the alarm is going to go off in less than 4 hours, I'm going to go disturb the rest of my husband's sleep as well by crawling back into bed and flipping and flopping until it's time to get up and shower. Peace out, insomnia.

Reality

With 23 days to go (give-or-take) it starts becoming a little more real.

Which is good of course.

Except when you start thinking.

Oh yeah. There's going to be some super-painful contractions. Oh yeah. Back labor last time was excruciating. You decided you didn't want an epidural. Oh yeah. You're going to have to push that kiddo out. That really sucked last time. Oh yeah. And then you have the adjustment of breastfeeding. That pretty much sucked last time. And then you have recovery. Weeks of recovery. You couldn't even walk to the mailbox for like 2 weeks. That super-sucked.

Of course it's worth it. But I'm glad it's the last time I'll do those things.

Then it's just life as a family of 4.

Middle name

So I gave the rights to my husband because he compromised on Forrest.

Of course, he's so indecisive he can't even choose a restaurant.

Despite given him the rights, it means a lot to me that it's a family name from my side. Heidi's middle name is from his side and since Forrest is a boy, he'll have a last name from his side forever.

So finally today, Josh realized that the baby is going to be here soon. Like maybe within the next couple of weeks soon. And he doesn't have a middle name.

So I made a list of names on my side that I like with Forrest. Now he just needs to choose his favorite.

In other news, the carseat is installed, so I think we're good-to-go as far as general readiness. If Josh has to pick the middle name in the delivery room, so be it.

Non-stress tests

Could there be a worse name for them?

A non-stress test* is basically when you lay on the exam table with two monitors on you: one to check for contractions and one to measure baby's heartbeat. You have to lay there until you can get three accelerations and decelerations within 10 minutes.

So, tell me again, how this is non-stressful. You lay there and can see the heartbeat monitor and know it has to jump and then it has to go down. And your in-utero child picks that as the perfect time to take a looong snooze despite the fact that he punches and kicks you all day long. So you stare at the monitor. You prod the baby. You drink a juice box. You prod some more. You finally get an acceleration, then it won't go down. Then the monitor loses the baby for a while and you have to move it around.

25 minutes later you're stressed out and late getting back to work.

*Least favorite part of being diagnosed with gestational diabetes

Degrees of readiness.

I'm sure many folks IRL don't believe me when I say, I really don't want Forrest to come early. Well, a few days early would be A-Okay, but not early early. We have various degrees of readiness occurring in the house.

Totally ready:
--Forrest's room
--Clothes (washed, hung, folded)
--Diapers (washed, organized, one pack of sposies ordered to be here on Wednesday)
--Bassinet finally picked up, washed, ready
--Diaper bag (packed and ready to go to the hospital)

Semi-ready:
--My bag for the hospital
--The whole family, mentally. It's starting to sink in that he's coming soon and life will never be the same. For me anyway. I think it is for Josh as well. Heidi...well, she's 3.
--Plan for Heidi while we're in the hospital
--Be well-slept and well-rested before labor (is that possible?)

Still to be done:
--Hospital pre-birth conference. I really have no idea who/when to call when I'm in labor, etc.
--Car seat installation (may be driving niece around next weekend, so I can't install it yet)
--Waiting for a few last things to come (as I discovered we had roughly 2 burp rags and not a single receiving blanket--which I like to use as carseat blankets)
--Finish growing baby ;)
--Roughly 30 things on my To-Do list at work.

There is a fine line

Between feeling lovely little baby flutters and kicks. And feeling like a living punching bag.

I am desperately hoping that Forrest's activity level in the womb is not an indicator of what his activity level will be like outside of the womb. Or I may never sleep again.

At 32 weeks...

I have reached the point in my pregnancy where I have to yell for help if I sit down on the floor because I can't figure out how to get up.

I have reached the point where I'm straining to reach my feet to put socks on (and so thankful for slip-on shoes).

I have reached the point where when I drop something on the floor I think "hmm...maybe someone else will pick it up later."

I have reached the point where even with conscious effort, I can't eliminate all of the waddle.

I have reached the point where "rolling" becomes a legitimate method of mobility/getting up/switching positions.

Diabetes?

So, I failed my 1-hour glucose test. Then I went and failed the 3-hour glucose test.

I'm not gonna lie. I had about a week of devastation (possibly an over-reaction on my part). I had no idea what I could eat, so I tried to cut out all carbs, which left me starving, which made me even more depressed. I pictured lots of worse-case scenarios--Forrest being a 10 lb baby, which led to a c-section, then having problems after he was here and me having problems--it just went on-and-on.

Luckily, yesterday I met with the diabetes educator who reassured me that I can actually eat carbs (and should) and I swear, just getting some more "sugar" in my system has made the craziness go away (and seem very crazy in hindsight). I'm still off the big stuff--the Mountain Dew, the ice cream, most desserts. But I don't feel like I'm going to die of deprivation anymore. So that's good.

And so far, after 1.5 days of testing, my blood sugars have all been just fine. Fluke or no fluke. I guess in the end at least I'm eating better, which is good news for both Forrest and myself.

And I get another ultrasound, and that's never bad ;)

Love is hard

I am madly in love with my son.

I cannot wait to meet him and hold him and hear what he sounds like.

But it's so hard loving someone else this much.

It's so hard to try to do everything you can for this little person.

And feel like it just won't be enough.

It's so hard to have to worry about all of the "what ifs."

To be terrified that something is going to go wrong.

I know I need to just have faith and do my best and pray that it'll all work out the way it's supposed to.

But I just can't. Not until he's here. And safe.

Parenting is the hardest and most amazing thing ever. From the very first minute.

Pressure

Parenting is kind of like living in a pressure cooker or under a microscope or as part of an olympic competition. There's just a lot of pressure and a lot of competition. From the get-go. From the first day of pregnancy you start thinking about those pregnant women that run marathons at 36 weeks along. You start thinking about those women that just "glow" and love every second of being pregnant. About half-way through the pregnancy you start analyzing how much weight you've gained and wondering how that compares to your friends and coworkers that have had babies. If you're like me, you start out the pregnancy really gung-ho--this time you're going to eat really healthy, cut out all the junk, cut out caffeine, exercise and stay in good shape the entire time. And then you reach about 6 weeks and start feeling miserable. And suddenly, you really could care less if you ever see another vegetable and those perky pregnant women on the workout DVDs make you want to go crawl in bed and pull the blanket over your head.

Add in the hormones. It's just a mess. You wind up feeling like a massive failure before you even hold the kid in your arms. I'm having a little failure pity party today. Tomorrow will be better.

Note to self

Prenatal workouts are a lot harder when you haven't worked out in 3 months and you're 6.5 months pregnant than they are when you are in good shape and only 3.5 months pregnant.

Things I will miss

With 11 weeks to go in what will very likely be the last pregnancy I will ever experience...a few things that I will miss:

Feeling him move inside of me.
Having him all to myself.
The anticipation of wondering what he will be like.
Having a conversation topic with complete strangers.
Baby hiccups.
Not feeling guilty when we stop for ice cream.
Emails comparing my baby's size to random vegetables.
Seeing him on ultrasounds.
Hearing his heartbeat.

Forrest

I have a son named Forrest.

I so love his name. It's everything that I wanted in a name for my child. It's not high in popularity. I don't know anyone with the name. It's easy to spell. It's easy to pronounce. It goes well with Heidi. It just feels like the name to me.

We didn't share Heidi's name until after she was born, but I'm finding it is fun this time around being able to share when asked. Especially because we're getting such great reactions. Though it honestly wouldn't matter to me, I love it so much.

Who's more excited?

We decided on a name!

There are lots of arguments that people use for not finding out baby's gender, but for me, I just love knowing because you get to figure out what THE name is before baby is born. It's so much easier for me to feel bonded to my baby when I can kind of picture him and even better when I start thinking of him as his name. It wasn't a huge secret that I was hoping for a girl this time around, but now I'm just so excited about my boy and I'm so in love with him (and with his name)!

We decided for sure a few days ago and I've waited to reveal the final name until the name letters that I ordered came. They came today while I was at work, but I have to have Josh's help to hang up the pegboard that they'll go on, so I'm still waiting. After the pegboard is up (with the baskets and decorations on it), I'm just waiting for one print and then his room will be totally ready.

The big question is, who's more excited? Me--to reveal his name? Or all the people that I've been teasing about it that are waiting for the pictures. It's just another plus to me of finding out the gender. I got to have a super-fun day of telling friends and family that he was a boy (and all the anticipation of doing it), now I get to have another fun time revealing his name, and come April will get to share all the rest of the details :)

Guess it's all the perspective

I went back to work today after the 11-day Christmas break. I was feeling really good about myself, knew I'd only gained a pound or two in a couple of weeks and actually feeling small now that I'm 6 months along (which seems like an okay time period to actually be BIG). Then I got to work. Not 1, Not 2, Not 3, but 4 different coworkers made comments about how much I've grown over break and how I've really "popped." Seriously, kids, I popped like 3 months ago, now it's just baby growing in there. Then a kindergartener confirmed my coworkers' thoughts by saying "you're going to have a baby soon!" And she looked properly shocked when I told her I still had 3 more months.

Luckily, Josh was smart enough to agree with me when I told him I was feeling small and like I hadn't grown that much recently. I'm just going to pretend my coworkers haven't been paying attention for the last few months and expected to see a big belly when I came back.