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| Brothers! |
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| Somebody told a total knee slapper! |
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| Winnie on my shirt |
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| Helpin' Mom work |
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| Jammies. They rule. |
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| Mom thinks I look like an elephant. I think she's a kook. |
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| Winnie, Nemo..What up, guys? |
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| 4 Months Old! Kickin' it in my polo. |
Thursday, July 28, 2011
4 Month Pictures
Friday, June 24, 2011
"You're SO lucky!"
I am...
I have an incredible husband, a loving family, the coolest dog ever and a healthy baby boy...But it seems the wound of having Cam early, and the small ordeal we went through afterward, is still a little sore.
I never had a huge belly. Sure, I got fat. (What's up Hostess! Bet you miss my business!) But, I never had that basketball-shoved-under-my-shirt look. And I never endured that last month of apparent misery when everything is just plain uncomfortable. Thus, I try to have sympathy for my friends and other pregnant gals who are walking around with a bowling ball in their uterus. It looks uncomfy. I feel for you, I really do.
But...
When another mom in the store asks how old Cam is and I reply, then explain his kinda small size, I still get angry when they respond with, "You're SO lucky! Mine was a week late. I would have much rather had him early!"
Really? Would you have?
Because that c-section I had sure was fun. And not being able to hold my baby for 3 days was awesome. And hearing a doctor tell me that my 4 pound son was on a ventilator at 4 in the morning sure was a good time. Man, I was really lucky that I got to spend 15 days driving back and forth to the hospital to visit my baby. I really loved leaving him there every night. And you have no idea how much fun it was trying to teach my kid to breastfeed. And then failing. By the way, you know what else was fun? Feeding my baby through a tube in his nose. Wait..and then my husband had so much stress from the situation that he had heart problems. That. Was. So. Lucky.
Oh, wait. No it wasn't.
Would I trade our birth experience? Not for the world. I would endure the pain I had to over and over again for Cam, but it still kills me to think about what he went through. It hurt. And newborn babies aren't supposed to hurt.
I feel incredibly blessed that Cam is doing so well now. I'm honored that I got to spend so many special days in the NICU with my Mom and Mom-in-law. And I'm appreciative of how much stronger it make Luke & I.
I just wish some people knew how dumb it sounds to say prematurity is lucky. Don't get me wrong, I don't feel sorry for myself, but NICU mommies need a badge or something so we can identify each other. Because it is so, so comforting when somebody in the store replies with, "How long was your stay?" Because they've been there, too.
I have an incredible husband, a loving family, the coolest dog ever and a healthy baby boy...But it seems the wound of having Cam early, and the small ordeal we went through afterward, is still a little sore.
I never had a huge belly. Sure, I got fat. (What's up Hostess! Bet you miss my business!) But, I never had that basketball-shoved-under-my-shirt look. And I never endured that last month of apparent misery when everything is just plain uncomfortable. Thus, I try to have sympathy for my friends and other pregnant gals who are walking around with a bowling ball in their uterus. It looks uncomfy. I feel for you, I really do.
But...
Really? Would you have?
Because that c-section I had sure was fun. And not being able to hold my baby for 3 days was awesome. And hearing a doctor tell me that my 4 pound son was on a ventilator at 4 in the morning sure was a good time. Man, I was really lucky that I got to spend 15 days driving back and forth to the hospital to visit my baby. I really loved leaving him there every night. And you have no idea how much fun it was trying to teach my kid to breastfeed. And then failing. By the way, you know what else was fun? Feeding my baby through a tube in his nose. Wait..and then my husband had so much stress from the situation that he had heart problems. That. Was. So. Lucky.
Oh, wait. No it wasn't.
Would I trade our birth experience? Not for the world. I would endure the pain I had to over and over again for Cam, but it still kills me to think about what he went through. It hurt. And newborn babies aren't supposed to hurt.
I feel incredibly blessed that Cam is doing so well now. I'm honored that I got to spend so many special days in the NICU with my Mom and Mom-in-law. And I'm appreciative of how much stronger it make Luke & I.
I just wish some people knew how dumb it sounds to say prematurity is lucky. Don't get me wrong, I don't feel sorry for myself, but NICU mommies need a badge or something so we can identify each other. Because it is so, so comforting when somebody in the store replies with, "How long was your stay?" Because they've been there, too.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Sm-sm-sm-SMILES
FINALLY...Somebody in this house thinks I'm funny. And I plan to enjoy it while it lasts.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Sleep
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| Cam and Jackson take their morning naps together...Boppy's are for babies and dogs, come to find out. |
After Luke got home from working yesterday afternoon, Cam refused to sleep. He wanted to hang out with Dad. Then he wanted to browse the internet for truck parts with Dad. Then he wanted to watch the NBA Finals. Then he was upset that the Heat played so horribly.
Then, finally, at 9 pm, he laid down. We caught up on a little TV and relaxed in bed, until Came awoke (kind of) at 10. So, I tried to get him to eat. And after struggling to do so all day, he downed a bottle. Victory #1.
And then he laid right back down and crashed. Victory #2.
Then I crashed. Victory #3.
And then, he slept. And slept....Until 6 am. All mother frackin' night long.
You, Cam, are a baby rock star. Thanks for the first full night of sleep since you came into the world. Mommy appreciates it, little dude.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Brothers!
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| "Okay, Cam...Look "normal" in this one." |
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| "This time, I'll look excited, and you mean mug mom and give her a fist." |
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| "Get your goofy face ready!!!!" |
Breastfeeding: A Sore Subject
I got up this morning an hour before everyone else to catch up on chores and start work before Cam woke up for his morning play time. That said, I should be working right now. However, I checked the news on AOL, as I do every morning and found this article:
"Breastfeeding Linked to Childrens' Metabolism"
And then I began reading the comments. I then I was enraged. Like, oddly, very angry. Vent begins in 3, 2, 1....
When Cam was born he was so fragile, and having so much trouble breathing, that we could barely touch him. Let alone, hold him to breastfeed him. So, I committed to pumping breastmilk that would be fed to my baby via a feeding tube. Beyond that, he received IV nutrition for the first 5 days. By day 6, Cam's nutritional needs began to exceed that of my milk supply. Just pump, they said. Your milk will come. So I pumped. For 15 minutes, every 3 hours, 24 hours a day.
When I went home from the hospital and Cam stayed behind, I rented a hospital grade breast pump and continued to pump. I labeled my milk and carried it back and forth to the hospital in a little ice chest, where Cam received it all. However, it still was not enough to keep up with his needs and we began supplementing with formula in the hospital. Which made...me feel...like crap.
Society has taken the stance over the past decade that women should be urged as much as possible to breastfeed. "Breast is best". "Babies are born to be breastfed." It's imperative to your child's development. Kids who don't get breastmilk are more likely to have behavioral issues. They're likely to be behind developmentally. It's the best bonding experience you could ever imagine. BULLSHIT.
That's right. I cussed on my baby blog.
Because of all that I'd heard about how critial breastfeeding was, and because I really do believe it's the best source of nutrition for a newborn, I pressed on. I took herbs. Worked with a lactation consultant. Pumped some more. Read everything I could. Tried pumping in the hospital. Tried pumping at home. Took more herbs. Ate oatmeal. Ate barley. Ate more. Drank more. Pumped again. And nothing. For all my efforts, I produced minimal amounts of milk. I'm talking...Mi-ni-mal.
Then, when it came time for Cam to come home, latching became an issue just as it had been in the hospital when we got clearance to try breastfeeding almost 10 days in. He didn't know how to do it. And no matter how much I offered, or how many trips we made to see the lactation consultant...He just didn't get it.
So I kept pumping for 5 weeks, until, one week....It just stopped. My milk became only a few drops that I stressed over dripping into a tiny bottle, and it was over. We were a formula fed family. And apparently, the world works to make formula fed mommies feel judged. Which I will not.
I tried my damndest to feed my son. But, the reality is, that our situation wasn't perfect. We didn't get to snuggle right after birth, and we never got to breastfeed. But there is NO lack of a bond. He is my boy and I am his mommy. And if anybody wants to argue how strong our bond is, or isn't, because we didn't breastfeed I will fight them with my bare hands until my knucles are bloody.
And I have a hard time imagining that Cam will be any less smart, or healthy or able because of our feeding regimen. I gave him all that I had, for as long as I could and I'm proud of that.
The fact of the matter is that 4% of mothers have what's referred to as "primary lactation failure" and just can't produce nearly enough milk. Unfortunately, although no one in the baby community will ever mention it as a possibility, I believe I was one of those 4%. I had a pre-term baby, via c-section, without a progressed labor and dangerously high blood pressure. My body was doing all it could to heal and get by. And milk production simply wasn't a part of that.
Women ,like me, should not be made to feel like failures. Sometimes, no matter how many herbs you take, or how much water you drink...Regardless of how rested you are or how much you try, breastfeeding just might not work. With that in mind, it's unfair to push women to keep trying at some point. I didn't want to "give up," but my emotional well being was suffering by staring at less than a 1/2 ounce of milk from 2-3 hours of pumping. I was stressing myself out over feeding my son, who already had enough feeding troubles as it was. Not breastfeeding was the better option for all of us, contrary to what every book, expert or online resource will tell you. I have respect for mommies who do breastfeed. I'm glad that you're able to and think it's a great source of nutrition. I just couldn't do it...And it's not like I didn't try.
So, to the lady in the comments section of the article above, who stated that she has long term health issues and believes it's from not being breastfed...Or to the moms who act like formula is poison...Or the people who judge parents who bottle feed their babies...Give it up. Each baby has a unique set of circumstances and no mom who puts an effort into breastfeeding should be made to feel any less when it doesn't work out.
Sorry, Cam...I couldn't give ya much milk. But if you need any vital organs in the future, I'll be happy to give mine to you. You already stole my heart.
"Breastfeeding Linked to Childrens' Metabolism"
And then I began reading the comments. I then I was enraged. Like, oddly, very angry. Vent begins in 3, 2, 1....
When Cam was born he was so fragile, and having so much trouble breathing, that we could barely touch him. Let alone, hold him to breastfeed him. So, I committed to pumping breastmilk that would be fed to my baby via a feeding tube. Beyond that, he received IV nutrition for the first 5 days. By day 6, Cam's nutritional needs began to exceed that of my milk supply. Just pump, they said. Your milk will come. So I pumped. For 15 minutes, every 3 hours, 24 hours a day.
When I went home from the hospital and Cam stayed behind, I rented a hospital grade breast pump and continued to pump. I labeled my milk and carried it back and forth to the hospital in a little ice chest, where Cam received it all. However, it still was not enough to keep up with his needs and we began supplementing with formula in the hospital. Which made...me feel...like crap.
Society has taken the stance over the past decade that women should be urged as much as possible to breastfeed. "Breast is best". "Babies are born to be breastfed." It's imperative to your child's development. Kids who don't get breastmilk are more likely to have behavioral issues. They're likely to be behind developmentally. It's the best bonding experience you could ever imagine. BULLSHIT.
That's right. I cussed on my baby blog.
Because of all that I'd heard about how critial breastfeeding was, and because I really do believe it's the best source of nutrition for a newborn, I pressed on. I took herbs. Worked with a lactation consultant. Pumped some more. Read everything I could. Tried pumping in the hospital. Tried pumping at home. Took more herbs. Ate oatmeal. Ate barley. Ate more. Drank more. Pumped again. And nothing. For all my efforts, I produced minimal amounts of milk. I'm talking...Mi-ni-mal.
Then, when it came time for Cam to come home, latching became an issue just as it had been in the hospital when we got clearance to try breastfeeding almost 10 days in. He didn't know how to do it. And no matter how much I offered, or how many trips we made to see the lactation consultant...He just didn't get it.
So I kept pumping for 5 weeks, until, one week....It just stopped. My milk became only a few drops that I stressed over dripping into a tiny bottle, and it was over. We were a formula fed family. And apparently, the world works to make formula fed mommies feel judged. Which I will not.
I tried my damndest to feed my son. But, the reality is, that our situation wasn't perfect. We didn't get to snuggle right after birth, and we never got to breastfeed. But there is NO lack of a bond. He is my boy and I am his mommy. And if anybody wants to argue how strong our bond is, or isn't, because we didn't breastfeed I will fight them with my bare hands until my knucles are bloody.
And I have a hard time imagining that Cam will be any less smart, or healthy or able because of our feeding regimen. I gave him all that I had, for as long as I could and I'm proud of that.
The fact of the matter is that 4% of mothers have what's referred to as "primary lactation failure" and just can't produce nearly enough milk. Unfortunately, although no one in the baby community will ever mention it as a possibility, I believe I was one of those 4%. I had a pre-term baby, via c-section, without a progressed labor and dangerously high blood pressure. My body was doing all it could to heal and get by. And milk production simply wasn't a part of that.
Women ,like me, should not be made to feel like failures. Sometimes, no matter how many herbs you take, or how much water you drink...Regardless of how rested you are or how much you try, breastfeeding just might not work. With that in mind, it's unfair to push women to keep trying at some point. I didn't want to "give up," but my emotional well being was suffering by staring at less than a 1/2 ounce of milk from 2-3 hours of pumping. I was stressing myself out over feeding my son, who already had enough feeding troubles as it was. Not breastfeeding was the better option for all of us, contrary to what every book, expert or online resource will tell you. I have respect for mommies who do breastfeed. I'm glad that you're able to and think it's a great source of nutrition. I just couldn't do it...And it's not like I didn't try.
So, to the lady in the comments section of the article above, who stated that she has long term health issues and believes it's from not being breastfed...Or to the moms who act like formula is poison...Or the people who judge parents who bottle feed their babies...Give it up. Each baby has a unique set of circumstances and no mom who puts an effort into breastfeeding should be made to feel any less when it doesn't work out.
Sorry, Cam...I couldn't give ya much milk. But if you need any vital organs in the future, I'll be happy to give mine to you. You already stole my heart.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
Big(ger) dog than I thought...
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| 100 lbs. on the vet's scale today. And he still likes to sit on laps. |
Cam's Birth Story - Part #2
Disclaimer: Long, windy, lengthy and probably boring. Only because I don't want to forget how it went down. Not that I know if I could forget even if I wanted to...
After visiting Cam in the ICN for a few minutes, I was wheeled back to my labor & delivery room. Due to the amount of Magnesium Sulfate that I was receiving to control my blood pressure, I would be fortunate enough to have a greater level of care for another 24 hours. I really liked the L&D nurses, so I couldn't complain. However, has anyone else ever had that magnesium crap? While I was in labor I never really noticed the effects. Mind you, once I got that baby outta me, the stuff jacked me up. Bad. Every time that I moved a limb, it felt as though it took said limb approximately 3 extra seconds to actually move. Combined with my spinal from the c-section, I couldn't stand and chewing felt like an olympic sport. Which sucked after 36 hours of not being allowed to eat. The stuff is nasty. Bad. No more. Ever. Thank you. I digress...
I convinced my Mom to go back to our house and rest for the night with my dad and Jackson. Luke stayed at the hospital with me and slept on the tiny little couch they reserve for weary family members. Although both of us were exhausted, we kept chatting about how amazed we were with our little bear...and I kept itching. Like, really, really itching. As the medication from the spinal wore off it started in my nose. Which I kept running my finger under like some kind of crack addict. Then my legs began to itch. And my face. Any my arms. And for the first time, I utilized my call button to ask for Benadryl, lotion and anything else I thought would stop the itching. Note to lady friends: itching is a serious side effect of a c-section. And annoying beyond belief.
When morning finally rolled around and the itching had mostly subsided, I was excited at the prospect of seeing Cam again. Unfortunately, I was still bed ridden and would only be able to go when the doctor gave me permission to move about the hospital. So, I waited and Luke went to visit him first thing in the morning. After a few minutes, he returned to let me know that LB was just fine, although still having a little trouble breathing. Still, I just wanted to see him. And I thought, perhaps, hold him.
That thought, however, was dashed when the neonatologist on call came to chat with us. Dr. Johnson was a lovely woman from San Jose who covered at the hospital a couple weekends each month. She had been caring for LB since he was born and cared enough to come find us and have a 30 minute talk about how things would go down now that Cam was in the ICN. I listened, as intently as I could through my exhaustion as she told me that we should plan on a minimum of a two week ICN stay, and that he was suffering from premature lung disease, also called "respiratory distress syndrome."
Which is when I really started to listen.
Dr. Johnson explained that due to the immaturity of Cam's lungs that he was not producing enough surfactant, a substance that helps lubricate the lungs. In essence, he was having trouble breathing due to his lungs sticking to themselves as he drew breaths in. It seemed as though he would overcome this trouble with just steroids. However, if he had any more trouble, he would need to be intubated and placed on a ventilator for a breathing treatment. And that potentially meant that he would need to be transferred to a different hospital. And that freaked Mama out.
So I asked, "When do you think we'll be able to hold him?" I didn't like her response, but I had to accept it. At least not for a few days. Right now, even touch was too much stimulation for him. Each time someone reached through a port hole of his isolette, his blood oxygen saturation dropped dramatically. Breathing requires a preemies full attention. And until he got that down, I would have to wait.
All of it was a lot to take in. Babies aren't supposed to have tubes shoved down their throats. Babies aren't supposed to have to endure that kind of pain. Babies are supposed to be cuddled and kissed.
I had read books. And watched shows. I knew how this went. Or was supposed to go, at least. Baby is born. Baby is placed on Mom's chest. Baby snuggles. Baby learns to breastfeed. Baby goes to nursery to get weighed and comes back to be cuddled some more. And then Baby goes home with Mom. I knew now, however, that our experience wasn't going to go like that.
So, I put on my big girl panties (which were, conveniently, some very attractive, giant, elastic mesh undies provided by the hospital) and waited for my nurse to bring me a wheelchair so that I could get wheeled into the nursery without a big glass viewing window and see my baby again.
After visiting Cam in the ICN for a few minutes, I was wheeled back to my labor & delivery room. Due to the amount of Magnesium Sulfate that I was receiving to control my blood pressure, I would be fortunate enough to have a greater level of care for another 24 hours. I really liked the L&D nurses, so I couldn't complain. However, has anyone else ever had that magnesium crap? While I was in labor I never really noticed the effects. Mind you, once I got that baby outta me, the stuff jacked me up. Bad. Every time that I moved a limb, it felt as though it took said limb approximately 3 extra seconds to actually move. Combined with my spinal from the c-section, I couldn't stand and chewing felt like an olympic sport. Which sucked after 36 hours of not being allowed to eat. The stuff is nasty. Bad. No more. Ever. Thank you. I digress...
I convinced my Mom to go back to our house and rest for the night with my dad and Jackson. Luke stayed at the hospital with me and slept on the tiny little couch they reserve for weary family members. Although both of us were exhausted, we kept chatting about how amazed we were with our little bear...and I kept itching. Like, really, really itching. As the medication from the spinal wore off it started in my nose. Which I kept running my finger under like some kind of crack addict. Then my legs began to itch. And my face. Any my arms. And for the first time, I utilized my call button to ask for Benadryl, lotion and anything else I thought would stop the itching. Note to lady friends: itching is a serious side effect of a c-section. And annoying beyond belief.
When morning finally rolled around and the itching had mostly subsided, I was excited at the prospect of seeing Cam again. Unfortunately, I was still bed ridden and would only be able to go when the doctor gave me permission to move about the hospital. So, I waited and Luke went to visit him first thing in the morning. After a few minutes, he returned to let me know that LB was just fine, although still having a little trouble breathing. Still, I just wanted to see him. And I thought, perhaps, hold him.
That thought, however, was dashed when the neonatologist on call came to chat with us. Dr. Johnson was a lovely woman from San Jose who covered at the hospital a couple weekends each month. She had been caring for LB since he was born and cared enough to come find us and have a 30 minute talk about how things would go down now that Cam was in the ICN. I listened, as intently as I could through my exhaustion as she told me that we should plan on a minimum of a two week ICN stay, and that he was suffering from premature lung disease, also called "respiratory distress syndrome."
Which is when I really started to listen.
Dr. Johnson explained that due to the immaturity of Cam's lungs that he was not producing enough surfactant, a substance that helps lubricate the lungs. In essence, he was having trouble breathing due to his lungs sticking to themselves as he drew breaths in. It seemed as though he would overcome this trouble with just steroids. However, if he had any more trouble, he would need to be intubated and placed on a ventilator for a breathing treatment. And that potentially meant that he would need to be transferred to a different hospital. And that freaked Mama out.
So I asked, "When do you think we'll be able to hold him?" I didn't like her response, but I had to accept it. At least not for a few days. Right now, even touch was too much stimulation for him. Each time someone reached through a port hole of his isolette, his blood oxygen saturation dropped dramatically. Breathing requires a preemies full attention. And until he got that down, I would have to wait.
All of it was a lot to take in. Babies aren't supposed to have tubes shoved down their throats. Babies aren't supposed to have to endure that kind of pain. Babies are supposed to be cuddled and kissed.
I had read books. And watched shows. I knew how this went. Or was supposed to go, at least. Baby is born. Baby is placed on Mom's chest. Baby snuggles. Baby learns to breastfeed. Baby goes to nursery to get weighed and comes back to be cuddled some more. And then Baby goes home with Mom. I knew now, however, that our experience wasn't going to go like that.
So, I put on my big girl panties (which were, conveniently, some very attractive, giant, elastic mesh undies provided by the hospital) and waited for my nurse to bring me a wheelchair so that I could get wheeled into the nursery without a big glass viewing window and see my baby again.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
2 Months Old!
Cam is two months old today. Somehow, 7 weeks must have gotten lost in a time warp! In just two months, the little bear has nearly doubled his weight and gotten 4" taller. I can't believe how fast things go...
And in celebration of his 2 month birthday, "someone" has chosen to completely forego naps today. Which is a big commitment for a baby who normally snoozes away 20 hours of each day. Excuse me while I go drive around town now until he gets bored enough to fall asleep and end the party.
Happy birthday, LB. We love you!
From this:
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| 4 days old - 4 lbs. 13 oz. (Approximately the same weight as my double chin in this photo) To this: |
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| 2 months old - 9 lbs. 2 oz. "Yeah, Ma! 2 months old. Double fist bump! Don't leave me hangin'!" And this... |
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| "Does this pose show off my left bicep, Mom?" And this.. |
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| "Slap me some paw, Winnie..." |
And in celebration of his 2 month birthday, "someone" has chosen to completely forego naps today. Which is a big commitment for a baby who normally snoozes away 20 hours of each day. Excuse me while I go drive around town now until he gets bored enough to fall asleep and end the party.
Happy birthday, LB. We love you!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
6 Week Pictures
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| "That's right...I've got a double chin and a milk belly...Wanna make somethin' of it?!: |
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| Kiss me..,I'm cute! |
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| Karate practice... |
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| Clint Eastwood impression... "Get off my lawn, Mom." |
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| "Man, this babysitting is hard work..." |
6 weeks home
Alright...I've been slacking. However, for the sake of records, I'm committing to posting at least once each week from here on out. I said it out loud. And so it is.
Cam had his 2 month well baby today and his first set of immunizations. So far, the kid is a friggin' rock star. He's on track for catch up growth and put up with three big ol' sticks like a champ. However, due to his prematurity he's a little behind on milestones like cooing and smiling. Which I can NOT wait for. I want that kid to smile at me so, so, sooooooo badly. After all that we went through in his first weeks of life, a smile will be the best reward. EVER.
On a different note, Cam got to meet his Grandpa Gary last week and spend an entire week with Luke's parents here. During their trip we took a drive to the Winchester Mystery House and visited two Harley Davidson shops. Little Bear did us proud by riding around in the baby wrap for a 1.5 hour Mystery House tour without a peep. He's totally interested in history. Or he was just tired. It's hard to tell.
We also had an especially great day when all of Cam's grandparents were here for a BBQ. Which makes me realize how much I'd like to live centrally near all of the grandparents. And how much I truly miss my Grandma. She's been gone for almost a year now and I know how much she would love Cam. But, I know she's been with me through this whole journey and keeps a watchful eye over the little dude. I just wish he could meet her once...But he can't.
It's odd to think that Cam will grow up without knowing some of the people that were such formative influences in my life and Luke's life...However, I'm committed to making sure that he knows about his great grandma, his great-great Aunt Pat, his great grandpa and every other relative that is watching over him from a distance. I want our little boy to have firm roots and know where he comes from, so that he can also have big wings. So he best be prepared for boring afternoons going through the family albums.
Cam had his 2 month well baby today and his first set of immunizations. So far, the kid is a friggin' rock star. He's on track for catch up growth and put up with three big ol' sticks like a champ. However, due to his prematurity he's a little behind on milestones like cooing and smiling. Which I can NOT wait for. I want that kid to smile at me so, so, sooooooo badly. After all that we went through in his first weeks of life, a smile will be the best reward. EVER.
On a different note, Cam got to meet his Grandpa Gary last week and spend an entire week with Luke's parents here. During their trip we took a drive to the Winchester Mystery House and visited two Harley Davidson shops. Little Bear did us proud by riding around in the baby wrap for a 1.5 hour Mystery House tour without a peep. He's totally interested in history. Or he was just tired. It's hard to tell.
We also had an especially great day when all of Cam's grandparents were here for a BBQ. Which makes me realize how much I'd like to live centrally near all of the grandparents. And how much I truly miss my Grandma. She's been gone for almost a year now and I know how much she would love Cam. But, I know she's been with me through this whole journey and keeps a watchful eye over the little dude. I just wish he could meet her once...But he can't.
It's odd to think that Cam will grow up without knowing some of the people that were such formative influences in my life and Luke's life...However, I'm committed to making sure that he knows about his great grandma, his great-great Aunt Pat, his great grandpa and every other relative that is watching over him from a distance. I want our little boy to have firm roots and know where he comes from, so that he can also have big wings. So he best be prepared for boring afternoons going through the family albums.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
2 Weeks Home
Today marks 2 weeks that we've had Cam home from the hospital, and 4 weeks since our Little Bear was born. What? 4 weeks. A month? That can't be. At this rate, he'll be leaving for college by next summer. Now I know what our parents meant when they say that you watch them grow up before your eyes.
Settling into a routine has been easier than I thought it would be. Honestly, I think this is, in part, due to the time that Cam spent in the ICN. From the time that he started bottle feeding, Cam was on a routine 3 hour feeding schedule which led to an easy transition at home. Throughout the day we have a snack every 3 hours and at night time he'll go for stretches of 4-5 hours before he starts smackin' his lips for some grub.
On another positive note, the hospital is full of noises. Annoying monitor alarms going off, other sick babies screaming their tiny lungs out, and nurses coming and going all night long. Thus, the kid sleeps through ANYTHING. And have you ever heard that babies become conditioned to loud noises that they hear repeatedly while in the womb? Like, uh, dogs barking? I actually buy into it now. Or Cam may just have his dad's selective hearing. Jackson's ongoing attempts to protect our home with completely unnecessary loud barking have little to no effect on Cam's slumber time. Praise the good Lord.
We're having a great time together here at home. Before Cam arrived I was scared to death of having an infant. I liked sleeping, I imagined he would do nothing but cry and I didn't know how in the world I would know what to do with him. Come to find out, I love being Cam's mommy. It's fun in a totally weird, new way. Sure, I still like sleeping, but our night time bottle breaks are a nice little snuggle and chat. We hear very little crying from the tough little booger and we seem to know what he needs so far. Diapers, milk and love are the essentials for the time being.
Before he arrived, I never thought about how it would feel when those little eyes look up at you while this tiny person naps on your chest and holds your finger in his pint sized hand. Now that he's here, I'm never letting him leave. I hope his future wife won't mind living in our basement.
Settling into a routine has been easier than I thought it would be. Honestly, I think this is, in part, due to the time that Cam spent in the ICN. From the time that he started bottle feeding, Cam was on a routine 3 hour feeding schedule which led to an easy transition at home. Throughout the day we have a snack every 3 hours and at night time he'll go for stretches of 4-5 hours before he starts smackin' his lips for some grub.
On another positive note, the hospital is full of noises. Annoying monitor alarms going off, other sick babies screaming their tiny lungs out, and nurses coming and going all night long. Thus, the kid sleeps through ANYTHING. And have you ever heard that babies become conditioned to loud noises that they hear repeatedly while in the womb? Like, uh, dogs barking? I actually buy into it now. Or Cam may just have his dad's selective hearing. Jackson's ongoing attempts to protect our home with completely unnecessary loud barking have little to no effect on Cam's slumber time. Praise the good Lord.
We're having a great time together here at home. Before Cam arrived I was scared to death of having an infant. I liked sleeping, I imagined he would do nothing but cry and I didn't know how in the world I would know what to do with him. Come to find out, I love being Cam's mommy. It's fun in a totally weird, new way. Sure, I still like sleeping, but our night time bottle breaks are a nice little snuggle and chat. We hear very little crying from the tough little booger and we seem to know what he needs so far. Diapers, milk and love are the essentials for the time being.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Now that we're settled in...
I've decided to start a small blog. After Cam arrived six weeks early out of the clear blue sky, I figured that this would be a fun way to keep our long distance friends and family updated on our little bear's progress and document little bits of our crazy new life to look back on.
For those of you who still aren't quite sure why he came early...Here's the scoop for anyone that cares to read a long-winded birth story: Cameron was due on May 7th. Thus, in late March we figured that we still had six weeks to finish arranging his room, wash pint sized clothes and enjoy sleeping through the night with just Jackson to bug us in the wee hours. We were wrong.
Up until the third week of March, I had an incredibly easy pregnancy. No morning sickness, no crazy big belly, no major complaints besides a little heartburn and an achy back. However, without warning I began to have an odd pain that wrapped around my chest, accompanied by an intense stabbing between my shoulder blades and swelling all over my body. For two days, I thought that perhaps this was just part of being pregnant. Pregnant ladies swell up, right? No big deal.
On Friday night, Luke came home to find me in a pair of my sweats, his sweatshirt and hunched over the sink looking like a child bearing hobo. I began to think that perhaps something wasn't quite right. Luke, however, was sure something wasn't right. He urged me to call my cousin, who has two great little men and is my local authority on mommy questions. Much to my dismay, when I did call her, she told me to check my blood pressure...Pronto. She had the same symptoms...Just before they induced her first pregnancy. Still, I thought it was probably just coincidence. I was NOT having a baby yet. Thank you for asking.
Within an hour we checked my blood pressure and SaveMart, CVS and finally bought our own blood pressure monitor. All of which clearly stated that my blood pressure was in the neighborhood of 200/120. Bummer. I finally called the doctor on call from my midwife's practice and went to labor and delivery to "get checked out" upon his recommendation.
Within ten minutes of walking through the door of the hospital that we had intended to finally get around to touring the following week, I was wearing a God awful gown and having vials of blood drawn to see just what was going on. Then the nurse dropped a major bomb: if the tests came back "wacky," as she said, the only cure for what appeared to be pre-eclampsia was to have a baby. I was sure they wouldn't be wacky, because I was NOT having a baby yet. Sure as poop, they were "wacky." By 11 o'clock, we were frantically calling our parents and I was wheeled into a room with two large spot lights aimed at my lady parts. Change in plans: I WAS having a baby. Sometime soon. Just 3 hours ago I was trying to figure out what kind of ice cream I wanted on my hot fudge sundae.
Multiple needle sticks, unpleasant pokes and prods and 18 hours later the real bummer of back labor began. I don't recall much besides an intense burning, aching, awful pain piercing my back, and being stuck in that darn bed. Due to my high blood pressure, a wacky medication they were pumping in me, and a catheter I was confined to my bed. You know how all those pregnancy books say to "try sitting on a birthing ball," or "walk the halls," "take a shower." Someone should have prepared me for the lack of options involved when you're confined to your bed. I opted for ice and my Mama rubbing my back until her hands ached.
After another 6 hours of that crap and labor not progressing, I decided that perhaps a C-section didn't sound so bad anymore when my doctor encouraged the option 24 hours after we had arrived. My blood pressure wasn't getting any better and the baby and I would be better off with him out in the world. Without consulting my husband, or my mom, I said "yes" to the c-section on the phone with my doctor and hung up realizing maybe I should have solicited some advice. It turns out my first decision using my new found mother's intuition was a good one.
We new ahead of time that due to Cam's gestational age - 34 weeks exactly - that he would be taken to the Intensive Care Nursery immediately after he was born and stay there for at least a week. Knowing ahead of time allowed us to be (kind of) emotionally prepared for the rigors of having a baby, seeing him for 30 seconds, and watching him be whisked away to a place that was never in our birth plans. "Babies in intensive care." Nope. Didn't see that one in any of the books I read either.
Within 30 minutes of the decision to have a C-section, Luke was sitting near my head as we waited to hear our baby cry for the first time. After minutes of chit chat, the man who nearly pukes at the mere mention of blood, looked over the curtain placed at my chest as soon as we heard the first cry from our Cameron. We were amazed to hear how loud those tiny lungs were and after taking pictures of Cam being cleaned up and weighed, Luke came back to my head to update me on how cute the little guy was. Minutes later, a nurse delivered a tiny bundle of blankets and a beanie to Luke's hands where I told our son hello for the first time and kissed him on the cheek before he was quickly taken to the ICN.
As I got stitched up, Luke followed Cam to the ICN to keep up on his progress. After I was put back together again, my mom and Luke took turns updating me on the features and health of our little bear. I was simply relieved that he was here and breathing. When the doc gave me clearance to leave recovery, my big hospital bed was wheeled through the halls and through the doors to a dimly lit, quiet room filled with incubators. With a little finesse, the nurses wheeled my bed directly next to Cam's incubator where Luke and my mom were waiting.
They say that your baby gets used to your voice while it's in the womb. I didn't know if "they" were full of poop until I said hello to Cam again and he turned his tiny head in my direction and struggled to focus. There was no doubt that he knew me. That was my boy, and I was proud to be his Mama.
Cameron Howard Lyda - March 26, 2011 - 4 lbs. 11 oz. - 17 inches long - 6 weeks premature
For those of you who still aren't quite sure why he came early...Here's the scoop for anyone that cares to read a long-winded birth story: Cameron was due on May 7th. Thus, in late March we figured that we still had six weeks to finish arranging his room, wash pint sized clothes and enjoy sleeping through the night with just Jackson to bug us in the wee hours. We were wrong.
Up until the third week of March, I had an incredibly easy pregnancy. No morning sickness, no crazy big belly, no major complaints besides a little heartburn and an achy back. However, without warning I began to have an odd pain that wrapped around my chest, accompanied by an intense stabbing between my shoulder blades and swelling all over my body. For two days, I thought that perhaps this was just part of being pregnant. Pregnant ladies swell up, right? No big deal.
On Friday night, Luke came home to find me in a pair of my sweats, his sweatshirt and hunched over the sink looking like a child bearing hobo. I began to think that perhaps something wasn't quite right. Luke, however, was sure something wasn't right. He urged me to call my cousin, who has two great little men and is my local authority on mommy questions. Much to my dismay, when I did call her, she told me to check my blood pressure...Pronto. She had the same symptoms...Just before they induced her first pregnancy. Still, I thought it was probably just coincidence. I was NOT having a baby yet. Thank you for asking.
Within an hour we checked my blood pressure and SaveMart, CVS and finally bought our own blood pressure monitor. All of which clearly stated that my blood pressure was in the neighborhood of 200/120. Bummer. I finally called the doctor on call from my midwife's practice and went to labor and delivery to "get checked out" upon his recommendation.
Within ten minutes of walking through the door of the hospital that we had intended to finally get around to touring the following week, I was wearing a God awful gown and having vials of blood drawn to see just what was going on. Then the nurse dropped a major bomb: if the tests came back "wacky," as she said, the only cure for what appeared to be pre-eclampsia was to have a baby. I was sure they wouldn't be wacky, because I was NOT having a baby yet. Sure as poop, they were "wacky." By 11 o'clock, we were frantically calling our parents and I was wheeled into a room with two large spot lights aimed at my lady parts. Change in plans: I WAS having a baby. Sometime soon. Just 3 hours ago I was trying to figure out what kind of ice cream I wanted on my hot fudge sundae.
Multiple needle sticks, unpleasant pokes and prods and 18 hours later the real bummer of back labor began. I don't recall much besides an intense burning, aching, awful pain piercing my back, and being stuck in that darn bed. Due to my high blood pressure, a wacky medication they were pumping in me, and a catheter I was confined to my bed. You know how all those pregnancy books say to "try sitting on a birthing ball," or "walk the halls," "take a shower." Someone should have prepared me for the lack of options involved when you're confined to your bed. I opted for ice and my Mama rubbing my back until her hands ached.
After another 6 hours of that crap and labor not progressing, I decided that perhaps a C-section didn't sound so bad anymore when my doctor encouraged the option 24 hours after we had arrived. My blood pressure wasn't getting any better and the baby and I would be better off with him out in the world. Without consulting my husband, or my mom, I said "yes" to the c-section on the phone with my doctor and hung up realizing maybe I should have solicited some advice. It turns out my first decision using my new found mother's intuition was a good one.
We new ahead of time that due to Cam's gestational age - 34 weeks exactly - that he would be taken to the Intensive Care Nursery immediately after he was born and stay there for at least a week. Knowing ahead of time allowed us to be (kind of) emotionally prepared for the rigors of having a baby, seeing him for 30 seconds, and watching him be whisked away to a place that was never in our birth plans. "Babies in intensive care." Nope. Didn't see that one in any of the books I read either.
Within 30 minutes of the decision to have a C-section, Luke was sitting near my head as we waited to hear our baby cry for the first time. After minutes of chit chat, the man who nearly pukes at the mere mention of blood, looked over the curtain placed at my chest as soon as we heard the first cry from our Cameron. We were amazed to hear how loud those tiny lungs were and after taking pictures of Cam being cleaned up and weighed, Luke came back to my head to update me on how cute the little guy was. Minutes later, a nurse delivered a tiny bundle of blankets and a beanie to Luke's hands where I told our son hello for the first time and kissed him on the cheek before he was quickly taken to the ICN.
As I got stitched up, Luke followed Cam to the ICN to keep up on his progress. After I was put back together again, my mom and Luke took turns updating me on the features and health of our little bear. I was simply relieved that he was here and breathing. When the doc gave me clearance to leave recovery, my big hospital bed was wheeled through the halls and through the doors to a dimly lit, quiet room filled with incubators. With a little finesse, the nurses wheeled my bed directly next to Cam's incubator where Luke and my mom were waiting.
They say that your baby gets used to your voice while it's in the womb. I didn't know if "they" were full of poop until I said hello to Cam again and he turned his tiny head in my direction and struggled to focus. There was no doubt that he knew me. That was my boy, and I was proud to be his Mama.
Cameron Howard Lyda - March 26, 2011 - 4 lbs. 11 oz. - 17 inches long - 6 weeks premature
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