The Spirit of Giving

Santa is real. How do I know? I have a little story to share about love, sacrifice, goodness, and care and by the end of it, you will believe in Santa as well.

Tonight Daddy and I wanted to end our night on a positive none fighting note. Doesn't happen often. But tonight I decided we would all write down 3 things that we like about each other and then share it with everyone. By the end of the night, meaning 8pm for us, we had lots of smiling faces. We said our prayers and Daddy took the boys to bed while I rocked our littlest man to sleep. It was then that I heard a knock at the door.

Daddy went down to answer it.

I have to say, hearing Daddy's surprise in his voice when he said, "hello" to the man standing there, made me  get up to see who it was.

And there he was. Santa. Standing tall in his big red suit, snowy beard and a giant Santa bag. He handed the bag to Daddy along with wrapping paper so we could see the gifts and wrap them up for our boys. I was in shock.

Daddy called the boys down to see Santa. I wish you could have seen them. They stood at the top of the stairs in shock, both their eyes huge.

Santa said hello. Both boys squeaked out hi's of their own and came down the stairs, closer. They stood there looking up at him while he asked them some questions; Are you A and E? Have you been good this year? Come shake Santa's hand?

Both boys were, as Daddy puts it, stoked to shake his hand. I was downstairs holding little baby boy still, quietly crying. (yes... yes I do have a sensitive side.) What an amazing thing to happen to my little boys, to my little family. After Santa left, A asked if he could see his sleigh and the reindeer. Daddy told him, "Santa's sleigh is magic, we can't see it or it will ruin the magic."

Both boys walked upstairs chattering excitedly about what had just happened. They didn't stop talking after they were both in bed. It took A a good 20 minutes to finally calm down.

I sat downstairs while Daddy helped both boys back to bed. Sitting in our recliner, holding my youngest son whom we had just found out days before did not have cancer and that the tumor in his abdomen was nothing more than that, a tumor. My emotions have been up and down this last month like I never thought possible. It is one of the hardest feelings in the world to not feel like you can plan a life for someone in your head because you don't know how much longer you'll get to have them and to hold them.

So having Santa show up at our door with a bag full of amazing gifts for my kids, brought out very tender emotions.

Santa is real. He came to my door in the true spirit of giving. He showed my kids that magic still exists in the world. He showed Daddy and I that God does work through His people on Earth. He showed us that people are good. People are selfless. Santa showed us that our family is special.

So Santa, if you're out there reading this. Thank you.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

And everyone else. Please remember. That people are good.

 Here you can see Santa's bag of goodies that he left us. :) And three very excited little boys.... well, two. But Mommy and Daddy are excited for the youngest little one.

I asked them to try to lift the bag. They weren't able to do it. But they were pretty excited to try!

My baby's story, part 3

And so we waited there in the ER of Primary Children's Hospital, the best hospital for children, in my opinion, on the West Coast.

Daddy held little boy on the bed and slept for a little bit. I managed to find time to pump. The main source for my relief was now no longer allowed to eat and it broke my heart. It's easy to understand that your baby can't eat because they don't want food in his tummy for surgery, but as a mother, one of the things I could do for him to comfort him, was feed him. And emotionally, I yearned to comfort him in any way I could.

It's a really hard feeling not to be able to do anything for your child. Especially when you feel that you should be able to do everything for them. You're the super hero that kisses their owies. You're the monster that scares away the other monsters under the bed. You're the softest pillow in the world, the pillow that will hold and cuddle a little one that needs love. You're the guardian. And today.... I didn't feel like a guardian. What could I do for him? Nothing. Besides hand him over to complete strangers and trust that they'll take care of one of the most precious things in my life. What a scary feeling. That's what nightmares belonging to mother's are made of.

Daddy and I took turns holding little boy. He still cried. Out of hunger. Out of pain. Out of extreme exhaustion. I was scared to move. Once he would fall asleep and I was holding him, I tried everything in my power not to move.

9 am.

Several hours later.

They told us they were transferring us to the PICU, they finally had a bed ready for him. Once there they would give him a blood transfusion for all the blood he'd lost as well as get him on morphine. I was relieved to get him into his own room, even if that just meant a few walls and curtains separating us from the other patients. The morphine, to be honest, made Daddy and I really nervous. I mean, if you look in the store for medicine for an infant that is 6-weeks-old, it doesn't exist. You don't give a newborn medicine because "supposedly" it doesn't do anything for them. So when they said they were going to give him morphine, it scared us.

But after watching them, for the last time in the ER, stick him again with needles to get more blood samples and hearing him scream as people held him down; I just wanted it to be over. I wanted him to be calm and rested and if morphine could ease his pain and help him sleep, then I wanted the morphine for him.

They took him from me- because apparently, parent's cannot be trusted to hold their own babies while in hospitals- and set him on another gurney. He was wheeled up to the PICU and we met some more amazing staff. I'm sad I don't have the ability to remember all of their names.

They took little boy and put him in his neonatal bed, hoarse crying voice and all. The nurse's were so sensitive to his needs. The first nurse we had was the one who really pushed the morphine with us. She told us the downsides to it. It could relax him so much that it could depress his breathing. So basically, he'd be so chill that breathing would no longer seem necessary. Oh... and it could make him itchy. She reminded us that we were in the PICU and that the ratio of patient's to nurse's was usually 1:1 or 2:1. And because little boy was a more demanding patient, he would usually be 1:1, so, if anything was to happen, they were right there. With Benadryl for his itching and if his breathing just began to slow and his O2 sats began to drop, they'd be right there with the appropriate people to counteract it. Especially since they already know the possible side effects of morphine. She had me convinced.

12pm. 27 hours awake.

Daddy would say right here that I was not very clear with the nurse and that is why they kept asking what I wanted. I have to say that being awake for nearly 27 hours straight was making me cranky. Not to mention the sudden mountain of stress I was under. So when daddy also kept bugging me about what I wanted to do about the morphine--when I clearly thought I was clear that I wanted him to have it-- I may have snapped at him. Just a little. I felt stupid and bad right after. He's feeling just as much emotional strain as I am. We both don't feel like we can relax. Little boy barely sighs and we're right at his side eyeballing his vitals on the screen they now have him hooked up to.

It was a long Sunday.

So many people calling to see what is going on. So many doctors of varying ranks coming in to talk to us. So many nurse's coming in to help baby boy. So many tears. So much waiting. And the worst of it all. We barely had a change of clothes.

Daddy and I never asked for anything while in the PICU. I don't think we actually knew what to ask for at the time. Once little boy was given his morphine, Daddy and I could finally relax a bit. Daddy fell asleep on a rocking chair they brought us. Our nurse noticed this and she brought in a chair that turns into a bed, blankets, sheets, and pillows. Such a small thing was so overwhelming to me at the time. That she would even care that my sleep deprived husband was sitting up in a rocking chair trying to sleep and she wanted to help him.

Once that bed was made in the corner of our room, Daddy was in it and slept for a good 4 hours. What a joke. That was all his body could let him sleep. I wanted him to stay out cold until the next morning. He needed it. I needed it. Unfortunately for me, I didn't actually sleep for at least another 48  hours. Think about it. Early Friday is when this all started. My Friday/Saturday night with him was terrible. I had hardly any sleep. I was awake all Saturday. 24 hrs. We took him in Saturday night. We made it to Primary's early Sunday. We waited for Monday to come. 24 more hours. Monday comes. Baby boy has surgery. I still don't sleep. 24 more hours. The night after his surgery I sleep.... barely. That gives me roughly 72 hours of consciousness. I would have never said it was possible until now.

My poor contacts were working overtime. I had to take them out several times to wash the salt and grime off them from crying so much. Luckily they had mini saline flushes and sterile water I could wash my contacts off with and put them back in. There were points when they lack of sleep and crying made everything I looked at blurry. It may have been one of the most infuriating things. I wanted so badly to be able to see my baby boy clearly, but I couldn't. And of course I was too tired to discover the saline flushes and sterile water sooner, so I suffered through it.

I can't remember when, but Papa who had been with us since about 3am went out of the PICU and brought in Grammie to say hi to baby boy. She had come, as well as my sister-in-law and her hubby who live in Bountiful. We could only have 3 visitors total. It was a moment of more tears and silent thoughts as she stood at the bedside of her newest grandbaby. I would be lying to say he looked good.

Before everyone arrived, little boy had been taken down one more time for another catscan and he'd been started on his blood transfusion. He had puncture marks everywhere from their attempts at drawing his blood. (it was pretty annoying that they had to poke him so many times. First of all, it hurts him. Second of all, he needs a blood transfusion--stop STEALING his blood! He needs all he can get at the moment people! And third, it's really hard for them to get him to bleed, so it takes forever, making him hurt more. I did not like the constant poking). His body was beginning to swell from all the liquid they were pumping into him. He still looked pretty pale since he'd just begun his transfusion. And he had several IV lines and wires protruding from every limb. It was very difficult to move him.

So for her to see him like that, could not have been easy. And seeing her pain only made me cry. And when grammie and papa left to let Aunt and Uncle in to visit, I cried then as well.

(This last bit I'm going to write about is very special to me. If you do not agree with my thoughts, I'll respect that, but please do not use my blog as your soundboard.)

The reverence around little boy's bed is still something I remember. Whenever I or Daddy spoke to someone, it was in hushed tones. When we comforted to baby boy, it was with such love and reverence in our voices. I could feel angels around his bed; in that little curtained off corner of the PICU. I could feel them comforting me. I think at least one of them has always been there with my baby boy. I could feel him since A was born. I would be in a room with my brand new baby and I could feel another soul in the room with me. I've never felt that with any of my other children. But with A, it was such a strong feeling. I know that whoever was with A was also someone I know. Their spirit was very familiar to me. I now know why they were there. I now know why they were with my baby.

And I feel that the other spirits were there because of the prayers of so many people that care for us, they were there to calm our hearts. I also feel that angels were in that PICU because it was just that-- a Pediatric Intensive Care Unit-- and little children are the most precious thing on this earth. God will never let them go through this life alone. Especially when they are struggling. They are so close to the veil. They need Him and he will not abandon his children. Ever. I know this to be true.

My baby's story part 2

I had just hung up the phone with Daddy. My baby was going to Primary Children's Hospital. (PCH) I stood up and began to wander through the house. What was I supposed to get? Daddy had just told me to grab what we needed and get back to the hospital so they could take my baby in an ambulance to Primary's. My cousins were there to watch our two other boys and I'm glad they were. 

I wandered. Nothing was collected. My mind was numb. I have never understood how someone's emotions could make them physically sick until I received the worst, no the 2nd worst, piece of news a parent could receive. Death being the worst news- and at that point I prayed with all my heart I would not be feeling this feeling soon. Because being told your baby has an unknown mass and seeing in everyone's eyes the pity they feel for you is bad enough.

My cousin helped me get things we needed. Without her, I would have still been stuck home in a stupor.

"J. What about a change of clothes?"

"oh yeah... Right .. " I'd collect the clothes and then run around the house trying to think of more things while she quietly followed me and essentially told me what else I should get. With her help I made it out the door in 5 minutes or less. 

2:45am

I made it back to the hospital in 2 minutes and ran inside, not wanting to be away from my baby for another second.  

He was lying on the exam table, exhausted from everything we'd put him through that he was asleep. We were told he would have to be put in his carseat for the ambulance ride. I was devastated. He was in so much pain and finally sleeping. I didn't want to move him at all. 

I wanted to take him and hold him and will his tumor away from him. I wanted it to be me. Writing this now, I still wish it was me. Please Heavenly Father, let this tumor be in me and take away all his pain. I wanted him to understan, I needed him to understand how much daddy and I love him, but how can you tell a 6-week old that. You can't. 

I put him in the carseat. Crying probably as much as he was at this point. If he cried, I cried. I wish he knew that we were putting him in his seat so when the EMT's arrived, he could have time to settle down. I wish he knew that everything we were allowing to happen to him was because we love him.

Two men came in with a stretcher. Baby boys' carseat got strapped in. One of the men smiled at me reassuringly. The other stood back with saggy firefighters' pants on, seemingly uninvolved. Definitely not comforting when your babys' needs are in his hands for the next 1/2 hour as we travelled.

He and I were loaded into the ambulance and tried to settle in for the drive from Orem to salt lake. Daddy drove home and met papa so they could drive up behind us. I had the pleasure of sitting there with my own haphazard thoughts in a strange smelling ambulance, with a silent, uninvolved EMT, jerking about at every little bump, putting my fingers under my baby's nose to make sure he was breathing. 

It. Was. Awful.

I can remember now thinking of the stupidest things and then remembering what was happening to 
my little boy and I'd start crying all over again. Very embarrassing when the EMT is sitting over there listening, doing everything he can to not look in my direction.

The one thought that kept creeping into my mind while riding in the ambulance was actually about my sweet grandmother. She lost her first child at 10 months old. And I was praying that her experience wasn't so she could help me through my own loss of a child. My mind couldn't shake this irrational fear and it was terrible.

We made it to PCH at about 3:30am. And then it all began again, but this time it felt different. 

There were doctor's everywhere, nurses, and other medical personal coming to and from our room in a steady stream. Daddy and papa made it and seeing a new face only renewed the crying I had kept at bay for at least 10 minutes.

We told our story over and over. To the ER doc. To the surgeon. The oncologist. The nurses. I cannot even begin to express the agony I was in. No one wanted to say cancer, but no one wanted to tell us it wasn't that either. I've never really felt physically sick from emotions before, or at least not to this extreme. I wanted to puke. I felt like I had to pass out. I could barely stay standing. And thinking 
functionally was a joke. 

4am. Daddy, little boy and I had been awake now for 22 hours straight. 

PCH brought their IV team in to stick him and draw blood. It was amazing how different their approach was. They weren't going to poke him until they knew they had a good vein. They were very attentive to daddy and I and the attention we needed. They were also very concerned with keeping baby boy as calm as they could, all things considered.  It was a breath of fresh air to feel safe being sent where we were. 

We had a few more tests we had to go through.  After the multiple blood draws, we went down to get a catscan.

Daddy, papa and I had to hold his arms and legs down while they strapped him into the machine. The poor boy had to have the contrast dye put into one of his IVs. It stung a little, he cried. I cried. 

They took us back to our room and we waited. 

7am.

The ER doc came in, the surgeon and the oncologist. And they told us this.

Your son has a tumor. It's 6cm by 6.5cm around. About the size of a softball or grapefruit in his lower right abdomen. We cannot confirm or deny that it's benign at this moment. He is severely anemic, we think he's been bleeding into the tumor. We're going to want to give him a transfusion. We are going to have to do surgery. So what we'll do first is get you up to the PICU, get him comfortable and put him on the stand by list to get him in as soon as we can tomorrow. 

We had about a million questions. I couldn't really ask anything. Those dang tears just wouldn't stop coming.  So I listened numbly, halway lost in my thoughts. They were talking about my baby. My sweet little angel boy with the big blue eyes and happy personality. At one point daddy came up and hugged me. He told me, we are strong. We have gone through so much and we can take this. 

I hugged him tight and told him I didn't want it. I didn't want this challenge. I wanted it to be taken away. Please take it away.

My babys' journey, part 1

You know those stories you always here about someone else's kid getting in a car accident or someone else's kid losing an arm due to some stupid accident? Funny thing about those stories; for some people those aren't stories about someone else's kid, they're about their own child.

Daddy M and I are now one of those people you here about. I can honestly say right now, in my 36- hour sleep deprived brain, that I would never want anyone to experience what we are going through.

Friday night we went up to A's Grammie and papa's house to stay overnight and play in the snow.

Friday night is when it all started.

My little man and I went to bed like any other night. Except he and I didn't sleep. He screamed, I tried to feed him, but he could barely latch over the pain. When he did sleep, he was snuggled on my chest and I'd pound on his back to comfort him. My night with him was filled with little restless whimpers, endless crying and sore wrists from patting his back for hours on end.

When morning finally came he and I were pretty spent, so daddy took over for a second. We gave him a blessing. I held him in my arms while his daddy and papa blessed him. By this point, it seemed to us like he was either reacting poorly to my breastmilk or he had the flu. The rest of the day consisted of me and A hanging out inside with Grammie while my other children and daddy played out in the snow.
 W
Our day ended with us playing card games with family around 5. A still slept on my chest, struggling to relax. Daddy would switch with me when my arms, wrist and hands began to hurt from continual rocking and back patting. After 4 hours of unrelenting crying from him, no matter what we tried, we took him to the instacare.

It was 9:30pm on Saturday by this time.

After telling the instacare his symptoms, they sent us to the ER without even seeing him.

We were admitted right away. What a blessing an empty ER is. They got us in a room, weighed him, measured him, and asked us what was going on. We told them he was still screaming and worsened whenever someone touched him. He was extremely pale. His breathing was shallow. He was still unable to latch to eat. And he experienced these jolts of pain that would rock through his body. Daddy got really good at knowing when they were coming and would hold him tight just as they hit his little body. It helped a little.

It must have been 11pm by the time the doc ordered an x-ray of his chest and abdomen. A was exhausted and it hurt my heart to have him be put in this arcaic contraption for his x-ray. He had to sit on this bicycle-like seat, they made us lift his arms above his head and positioned these curved plastic pieces around his chest. He was so tired he could barely hold his head up or keep his eyes open. So we tried to hold him in this sitting position while he deliriously cried.

Once we finished I held him close, desperately trying to comfort him.

We waited a little while for the doc to read the x-ray. He saw nothing concerning, telling us it was colic, but he still had to wait for the radiologist to read it before we could go home.

It was midnight. We were exhausted. It took the radiologist an hour to finally read his x-ray. Apparently she was picking up her spouse from the airport in SLC, an hour away. I was pissed. While we waited they tried to draw blood samples from him. They couldn't find a good vein and wouldn't stop stabbing him. He was poked on both hands, both elbows, both feet, and his scalp. Screaming in pain every time. It was torturous to watch. At one point they got one in his head and in order to get blood from it they actually wanted him to cry. ---uhm, no. Leave my baby alone.--- he doesn't bleed very well, so the nurse was actually massaging around the I.V to get it to bleed.

After they finishedshe poking him, they wanted a urine sample and straight cath'd him.

My heart was breaking for him. My greatest desire at this point was to hold him and make all the hurt go away. And possibly take out some mean nurse's for poking my baby over and over.

Someone read the x-ray and didn't agree with the doc. Something didn't look right. They thought it
was a telescoping bowel. An ultrasound was ordered.

1am.

Ultrasound didn't look right. But a telescoping bowel didn't fit what the tech was looking at. We're sitting there watching her take pictures of his abdomen and after about 10 minutes of her doing this she looks at daddy and I and says, " I don't want to freak you guys out, but you're going to find out anyway. There's a mass in his abdomen. I can't say more than that because I don't know more."

I honestly tried my best to NOT freak out....but come on. The first thing that popped up in my mind was --cancer-- my beautiful little baby has cancer. This can't be happening.

When she was done, I took him in my arms and held him close. And cried.

We went back to our room and tried to absorb the information we'd just been given. Unfortunately for me, I had to go home to pump. It was quite the miracle that I made it home considering I was worse than a spewing faucet and had zero visibility through my tears.

I wasn't home more than 10 minutes when the phone rang. Daddy called, "they're transferring him to Primary Children's, you need to grab what you think we need and get back here as soon as possible."

My insides were numb. My thoughts were numb. My heart was broken. I couldn't think.

Girl Problems

I have to say this is a first for me and my boys. Or at least for my 3-year-old, E.

Both my older boys are in school right now and as result, they are exposed to all sorts of other children. A loves it and socialized with everyone! Especially the girls. He loves them. This will be cause for concern in later years I'm afraid. I mostly just wish he had SOME fear of girls- it might keep him away from them longer.

E on the other hand, is terrified of girls. They can be his age or older than him. He's especially scared of them if he seems smitten by them. If you've ever met E (and you're a girl) and all of the sudden our loud, rambunctious, teasing 3-year-old gets really quiet around you and starts smiling like a doofus-- it's probably because he likes you. Whatever that might mean for a 3-year-old.

Daddy M told me a little story of what happened to E at his pre-school yesterday, involving *GASP* a girl!

He took him into class and went to help E hang up his backpack. As soon as E walked into the room, a very cute little girl classmate of his walked up to him.

"Hi, E!" She said cutely, while showing off her shoes, "Do you like my new church shoes?" As Daddy put it, she was trying very hard to get his attention and was being as cute as she could about it.

So ... I'm not really sure when the whole liking boys thing starts. I don't remember it starting when I was 3 or 4, but maybe it did. So, E like most other boys had a very boy-like reaction to this cute little girl.

He was completely oblivious to her desire to get his attention.

Either that or he was completely terrified of her and decided to ignore her rather than stop to have a conversation.

As soon as his backpack was hung up, he zoomed passed the little girl as fast as he could without looking at her or acknowledging the fact that another human being was talking to him, and sat down on his class' playmat with all the other kids.

The little girl, unperturbed by his behavior, walked over to the mat and sat down next to him. I have a feeling that, like my oldest son A, this little girl might be trouble when she gets older as well. :)

So, my son, if you want to keep the girls off you, you're going to have to get rid of your rugged good looks I gave you.

I know it's going to be hard, but you're going to have to hide your sensitive side

  as well as those bulging muscles!

My Yesterday

I'm still slightly traumatized from my yesterday, and to be honest, I really think you would have been too if you were in my shoes. I expect for the most part, some chaos in my day to day activities just from having kids. And even more so from having boys. But yesterday.... yesterday my E man decided to really pack on the chaos.

It all started with me innocently wanting to run to the grocery store during lunch to buy some food. Daddio was home, so I knew I could actually go by myself! Hallelujah! I made the boys some chicken noodle soup and ran to the store.

P.S Daddy was napping. First mistake on my part.

I came back within a half hour. For an average child this might be enough time to plot some sort of naughtiness and then begin to execute it, but for E, the master of disaster, that's all he needs to turn my kitchen into a horror scene.

I came home, brought in all the groceries in one round and walked into my kitchen to find noodles everywhere. On the floor. On the wall. On the table. On the curtains. On my cupboards. In my fruit bowl. And of course on BOTH my kids!! But you see.... he didn't just stop there. He poured out ALL the liquid from his soup as well. My cream tablecloth looked like a kid had peed all over it. Instead of a pretty cream color, I had a yellow sticky mess.

You're wondering if it actually stayed on the table. The answer to that is simple. It did not. All of my chairs were sticky, along with the floor and parts of the wall.

E at some point must have realized while I was gone the mess he made-- either that or A, his big brother told him he was making a mess-- and decided it was time to clean it up. He grabbed some of my paper towels and tried to soak up the of the liquid.

This is what I came home to him doing and naturally by this time I was home and trying not to lose it. However, as soon as he picked up those sopping wet paper towels from the table and began to swing them around like a cowboy rope, I had no choice but to try to run to my happy place in my head.

Let me repeat that. He actually picked up soaking wet paper towels and swung them ALL OVER.

I don't think I made it all the way to my happy place.

Instead....

I made a bee line toward E telling him to, "Stop this instant! You're making a bigger mess!"

Apparently he didn't hear me and swung his soaking towel a few more times for good measure, spraying my kitchen, part of my family room and myself.

Unfortunately for him, his actions earned him a timeout. Mostly for his own good. His chance of survival in the bathroom were much higher than out in the open where I was. In my mind, I wanted to carry him upstairs and chuck him out a window.

Of course though, in pure E fashion, leaving him in the bathroom was a stupid idea as well. We have our iron and iron board in there hanging from the back of the door on this nifty little hanger. E figured since he was bored and all, that he should kick the back of the door over and over until he kicked the iron board off the door and ripped the hanger off. Mind you, it was SCREWED into the door. Not hanging over it.

When I found him in there, lucky for him I'd made it to my happy place in my mind.... I'm thinking now that I may have actually gone beyond it and entered crazy town. I swiftly removed him from the bathroom after trying of course to open the door, which wouldn't, because the iron board was halfway open and blocking the door. I didn't, scratch that, couldn't talk to him; my brain was short circuiting by now.

I handed him a full bag of cheerios. This way A and E could share them while I made dinner, cleaned the noodle mess and fixed the bathroom door.

Halfway through making dinner, not wanting to be left out, my littlest boy A.M woke up and started to fuss. He was hungry. I ignored him, rushing to finish dinner. And then A walks into the kitchen to inform me, "Mom, E dumped out the whole bag of cheerios." Doesn't seem like a big deal right? It's just unfortunate that EVERYTHING else had already happened by now.

I honestly didn't believe A for a second. I mean really, how could ONE child be so incredibly destructive in only a 1 to 2 hour time period?? I went to inspect. And sure enough my carper was covered in an entire bag full of cheerios. By this point, I really should have just been impressed with his mad skills.... buut I wasn't. Not even a little bit. I was halfway through dinner with a hungry crying baby, a carpet full of cheerios, a kitchen still covered in chicken noodle soup, a broken bathroom door AND only a short time before people came over to carve pumpkins. Stress does not even begin to describe what I was feeling.

But it was all ok. Because I was already neck deep in the crazy town lake in my head and I knew I just had to keep telling myself that Daddy M was going to be home soon. He had managed to sneak out just after the noodle fiasco to go to school.

Any minute now.

He'll just walk through that door.

And rescue me.

Before I drown in crazy town lake.

Things you need for a new baby

Some of this stuff is probably pretty obvious. But I'm just adding the stuff that, for me, has been absolutely a must around here. Things I could NOT live without. Or at least that I've convinced myself I cannot live without.

• The correct season of clothing! Don't be buying short sleeve onesies in January for your newborn. Or if you know in 3 months it's going to be sweltering outside. A long sleeve onesie isn't going to cut it. You would be surprised at how many people do not grasp this.
• Newborn diapers- A.M went through I think we calculated, 80 in 2 weeks. And then we had size 1s --because honestly your little one doesn't need to be in newborns for very long-- but he's probably gone through about 60 of those in 2 weeks as well. 
• burp rags. TONS of them. If you think you have enough, you don't. Buy more. Burp rages in this house are just cloth diapers, and the occasional cute one that someone has made us.
• Desatin, or something similar. Once your little munchkin is born, starting putting that on his bum. They poo so much in the first few months of life that they get a pretty bad diaper rash pretty quick. So try and get a leg up on it.
• A nursing cover, with ribbing in it. They're amazing! I can actually nurse in public without the fear of exposing myself to the world and because of the ribbing, I can see my little man nurse. Also, they're lightweight so you're not going to sweat your baby out.
• A boppy. A nursing mom's best friend! Plus it becomes a nice little spot to let your little one lay propped up. 
• Depending on the season- baby socks are a must. They are great for their feet as well as their hands if you don't want to buy the infant mitten things (some newborns scratch the crud out of themselves, like my son E. So we stuffed socks on his hands to stop him.).
• breast pads. Leaking is embarrassing depending on where you're at. It's a major relief to know you have a  breast pad in there instead of pressing on your chest when your milk lets down so it doesn't start coming out.
• Wipes.... obviously.
• A baby carrier. I actually do my dishes now with A.M. attached to me. It's a front carrier. Not a wrap. I haven't had much success with the wraps I've tried, but I'm sure there's some out there that are great. My little man just hates not being right next to me and some times the only way to get things done is to just attach him to me and get to work.
• Breast pump! I have a pretty nice one, but it's lasted me through 3 kids so far. Mine is is a Medela double electric breast pump... or something like that. It is so nice to be able to pump when I'm extra full or want to keep my supply up to a certain level.
• Along with pumping, I love the Lansinoh breastmilk storage baggies. It's so nice to have a back up supply for when I'm not around or don't want to nurse.
• A plug-in bottle warmer! When your little one is screaming for some grub, the last thing you're going to want to do is heat up some water on the stove and stick the bottle in it and then guess as to when it will be warm enough for them. Save yourself from the stress and just buy a plug in bottle warmer.
• A bottle/binki/breast supply sterilizer. We just have one that goes in the microwave, but it really does give me some peace of mind knowing my stuff has been sanitized. It doesn't clean it for you- so you would still need to do that. Buy a separate baby scrub brush for their stuff. They actually sell them in the baby section that are designed to clean bottles and nipples.
• Portable bottle warmer. We have one by Dex that actually just requires you to snap a little metal circle and the bottle warmer instantly heats up and hardens around the bottle. Ours doesn't heat up large amounts though. 4 oz at best.
• Binki's. The one the hospital gives you is great. They also sell that brand at the store. Babies like to suck. So unless you want to be the binki.... I suggest you go buy some. All of my children have been fine using a binki. 
• Baby bath tub. Ours actually had this mesh that a newborn can lay in that keeps them suspended in the bathwater that, when they get older can be taken off so the tub can be used on a bigger infant. I really love having skin to skin in the shower, but it can be pretty difficult to get anything productive done if you don't have a place to put the baby.
• A gigantic diaper bag! And maybe this is a must for me because I have 2 other kids along with a baby. Honestly though, I would rather have too much space than not enough. Here's what goes into my bag right now. 4 burp rags, 5-6 diapers, wipes. diaper cream, formula (just in case), baby bottle with hot water in it (by the time you need it while you're out, it'll probably be warm or you can just add some cold water to it.), breastmilk with a little cooler for it, portable bottle warmer, 2-3 changes of baby clothes, hand sanitizer, breastfeeding cover, a baby blanket, 2-3 binkis, tiny toys to distract with, and snacks for my older children. So.... you see why having a big bag might be nice?? 
• And a nice diaper bag. I've purchased the one's for $19.99 to $29.99 at Wal-mart. I ended up going through about 3 diaper bags this way. So get a good quality one or at least buy a giant purse from Target. That works too.
• A lamp on your side of the bed, plus something to watch, play or read while you nurse in the middle of the night. It is SO hard for me to stay awake some night. Having a little lamp to turn on and then the iPod to watch Netflix or play Solitaire, helps me stay awake. I also have a water bottle on my nightstand that keeps me awake as well. Doesn't always work, but for my first I had nothing and I struggled so much more to stay conscious.
•  Start collecting plastic grocery bags, now, if you already don't. We use them like crazy to put dirty diapers in. For our first baby we had a Diaper Genie- it was nice to have initially, but in the end, it was a bigger hassle than it was worth. 
• Baby blanket. Thick, thin, big, little, fuzzy and not. Get a bunch of them. Baby is going to spit up on them and you'll use a bunch of them.
• Buy a ton of pads. Like for your period. TONS of them. Overnight ones as well. And try to see if the nurse's will give you some extras from the hospital too. 
• If your cute little one is a boy and you chose to circumcise him, buy some petroleum jelly for his little peeps. The doc should supply you with some 2x2 sterile pads. So then you just slap some jelly on the pads and cover his business with it to protect it while it heals!

I'm sure there's more that I'm forgetting. But hopefully whoever reads this will have some idea of some of the stuff they might like to use for their new baby! Or if not, it'll be a great reminder to me for the next kid of what I need to make sure I have... because I'm sure when we have another, I'll have forgotten most of this stuff.

Just Medium

As most of you probably know, or can surmise, based off the photo of my oldest son, A, he is in Kindergarten. He had a little experience a few weeks ago that he told me about that surprised me a little. And in all honesty, it shouldn't have. Like any other day, I drove up and collected him from school and proceeded to ask him about his day and what he learned. Usually he tells me something irritating like, "I jus' forgot Mom." But on this particular day he told me something that had bothered him.

A's class occasionally goes outside of his Kindergarten classroom to the school gym and I am assuming to other areas of his Elementary school. On this special day, they did just that, went to the gym. His teacher has them walk in a line passed the other students and classrooms, meaning, naturally they would pass other teachers and other students varying in age. It just so happened that one of these other students made a comment about A's class, "Awwww, they're just so cute! Look how little they are!" A, highly irritated by this, remembered the incident and then in the car told me this person was not being very nice, "I'm not a little person Mom. I'm jus' a medium one."

I agreed with him about being a medium a person, but tried to explain to him that the girl that said that about him was not trying to be mean. She just thought his class was cute. I don't think he really approved of my answer. He just kept reminding me that he was, "medium," not small.

SO, let this be a lesson to people who have children 4 and older-- they HEAR what you're saying and it DOES affect them. So please be careful of what you say because they are trying hard to fit in and figure out what they are. Yes, even 4 and 5 year olds have little emotional issues. But don't tell them their emotions are little. They're just medium.

Horrified

Once upon a time there was a cute little family full of boys. There was the oldest son, A, the middle son E, and the newest addition and, of course, littlest son A.M.

One day their mamma decided it was a nice day for visiting their papa's school before they picked him up. So off they went. But before they enjoyed their nice walk around campus, mamma had to feed and change A.M. He was very hungry and his diaper was very full.

A and E watched a movie while mamma fed A.M. A was mostly good at listening to mamma and stayed in the back row of the car. E had other plans and crawled all over the car, because he knew mamma couldn't physically stop him. And this is just where the fun was beginning. Maybe if mamma knew what was coming she would have just stayed in the car.

Sad for her though.... she had no idea what she was walking into.

All 3 boys got out of the car once A.M was fed and began to walk toward the main building at papa's school. A.M was of course in the stroller and biggest brother A was eager to help push him, so mamma let him. E was more interested in running ahead and smelling flowers/running along the edge of said flower beds at breakneck speed.

This cute little family full of boys finally made it to the main building so that A.M could be changed and they could proceed on their leisurely walk. They searched for a changing table. High and low. But it seemed that regular people were using the handicap stalls in many of the restrooms, preventing mamma from having a place to actually change littlest brother. Frustrated, mamma found a "private" corner where she could change A.M. She got all her stuff out, ready to change littlest brother, smiling politely at all the people looking at her as they passed by. E seeing that littlest brother was being changed, realized that he had to go potty too. Mamma told him to wait since the restroom was just a few steps away and changing A.M took less than a minute. She then went about her business. It was then that biggest brother A shouted to mamma, in the crowded pavilion area,

"MOM! E is going PEE!!!!" 

Mortified at what that could mean, mamma abandoned A.M who was safe in his stroller and rushed over to see E pulling his pants up, a puddle of urine on the floor, a few people stopped watching the horror as the carefree 3-year-old whizzed all over their precious campus floor. And now they stand, waiting to watch the rest of the scene unfold.

Mamma's insides wanted to do this to him. BUT....

....society has taught her she should react more like this in public. 

We'll just fast forward to the end where it turned out that E was allowed to live.  * Hurray!* (Although, he did sit a corner until mamma was ready to leave.) A helped clean up the mess by collecting a bunch of paper towels and A.M finally got his diaper changed. And mamma hurried out as fast a she could, praying that the janitorial service cleans behind random pillars back in corners of very busy buildings.

--yes people, my son did in fact pee INSIDE a public building. Not only were we inside a building, BUT the bathroom was only 10 feet away and I had just BARELY walked out of it trying to find a changing table.

What we Women do to Ourselves to Bring Little People to this Earth

Some fun facts about what your body does AFTER you've given birth. For some reason, I usually only remember a few of these things. And any first time pregnant Mom out there... these are just things I have gone through. Your experience might be altogether different.

• You may have just given birth, but you'll probably leave the hospital looking like you're still at least 4-5 months pregnant. Those poor muscles just don't like to go back as quick after baby #3 or 2.
• I had an episiotomy, so sitting on my butt.... did not feel so great. And honestly, being stuck in a bed due to sheer exhaustion doesn't help the toosh toosh either.
• Not only will you give birth and bleed then, you'll also have to endure the worlds longest period after your little angel is born. My record? I think like 2 weeks...
• If you have other children, they just might annoy the crud out of you. Maybe it's some carnal instinct to care for your newest addition and having other kids making demands on you is just not kosher in your crazy post partum brain.
• You will wake up, just to make sure your baby is still breathing. And it won't be a gentle awakening. It'll be a panicked one.
• If you're nursing, it's going to start to hurt after the first day. And it won't stop hurting for a while. Ask for some Lansinoh! 
• Also related to nursing, you'll probably go from an A to a C by just being pregnant, and then once your milk comes in and you're engorged- you'll jump to a DD until things start to level out, then you'll be like a D.
• And when your milk lets down, it'll do it when it wants to. So buy some breast pads to save yourself some grief. 
• Nursing bras suck. I'm thinking of buying a front snap sports bra--seriously! Maybe some of these are worth looking into:
  http://www.babycenter.com/101_the-best-nursing-bras_10369715.bc?scid=momsbaby_20121009:5&pe=MlVDOW9YdXwyMDEyMTAwOQ..
• Wearing normal clothes sounds daunting, you'll most likely end up in PJs or maternity clothes for the first few weeks after baby.
• You won't have the energy or desire to try too hard to make yourself look less like a zombie and more like a normal human. Unless of course you're forced to go outside for extended periods of time or you're having lots of visitors.
• Sleep when the baby sleeps. For real! SLEEP when they sleep!! Because at night, if your cute new addition is like mine, will sleep longer when they're on your chest, but you can't really do that ALL night. Apparently it's not safe or something like that. *shrug* SO.... this means they'll wake up every hour wanting food or your attention.
• Diaper rash.... is not exclusively for babies. Just sayin'
• Your bladder is going to struggle for power over your urge to pee. Luckily after time, this will become less of a problem. But for now.... just be sure you're wearing a pad, which you probably already are since you're on a marathon period at the moment.
• Constipation. It's a real problem. Take the dang colace the nurse wants to shove down your throat! You'll be thanking her later!

Am I missing anything mom's? I'm sure I am. Like I said, you might experience something completely different. Just remind yourself- which shouldn't be hard- that you have a new beautiful baby to make up for all this crap you're going through.

A Baby Story

I figured this would be an EXCELLENT way to open a new blog. My last one is no longer allowing me to add photos, so as M and I start this new chapter in our lives with a new little baby, we'll start a new blog.

And what better story than the story or little A.M's birth. I have to be honest, this one, even though it's my 3rd child, still got my nerves in a bit of a bunch. BUT here's my reason why. I was induced instead of coming into the hospital in labor. It was a whole new experience to drive to the hospital feeling no pain. They called us around 6:45am and told us they had our room available and to come in as soon as we could. Once there, we signed all our lovely papers and got settled. According to my nurse, I was in the Timpanogos Suite, named for the awesome view of the Timp mountain. I have to be honest that the view meant little to me when it came down to pushing time.

 Around 7:30am they started me on pitocin, which encourages labor, and things got under way. For those of you who actually know what I'm talking about, I came in dilated to a 3. My body was just really not interested in going into labor on it's own this time around. I made it to 40.0 weeks and can't say I was too happy about it.

After the pit was started my nurse would come in and check on me every 1/2 hour to every hour and each time she would ask me if I wanted my epidural. I appreciated her concern for my pain, but I have to admit, her persistence was a little annoying. After about the 4th time of having her come in and ask, I finally agreed to get it even though I really wasn't in enough pain to justify receiving my epidural. I think she was worried I would go fast since I told her with my second child I was in labor at the hospital for about 5-6 hours before E was born. I think that would put epidural placement, by a guy from India, around 10.

Since I wasn't in as much pain as I usually am while getting stabbed in the back with a giant needle, this one hurt a lot more than the others. But it was worth it! And he did an awesome job. I could actually still move my legs around after he numbed me up. The only place I really couldn't feel at all was my pelvis.

Anyway, after I was sufficiently numbed up, I tried to rest. They had to put me on oxygen a couple times since little bugger's heart rate was dropping, making my intention to rest fairly difficult. Over the next few hours I was rolled back and forth a few times to help with his heart rate as well.

Around 1pm, my nurse checked me and told me I was dilated to a 10 and ready to push. By this time, I was doing my usual dilated to a 10 routine. My whole body shaking. I was having trouble talking. And this time around I was actually feeling some pain on my left side every time I contracted. We waited for the doc. And waited. And waited some more. The nurse came in and told me that he wasn't coming because he had to rush to a surgery, so another doc was on his way. I knew both docs, so I was glad to have either one deliver for me.

Doc arrived and about 10 minutes later, at 1:35, my perfect little angel arrived. He did however have the umbilical cord wrapped so tight around his neck that I had to have an episiotomy. A.M came out blue. Plus I had a partial abruption. Basically meaning the placenta peels off the wall of the uterus before the baby is born and the baby can bleed out. Kinda freaked me out when he told me that. As a result, A.M swallowed some blood before he was delivered and had some trouble breathing.

 He weighed in at 8lbs even, 20inches long, apgars were 8,9--pretty good considering he was having trouble breathing. I got to hold him before they took him to the NICU.

Just after he was born. Waiting for them to clean him up a bit.

saying goodbye to him before he went off to the NICU

Daddy went with A.M. and made sure he was ok. He was only in the NICU for an hour and then he was brought back to us.

What an amazing experience with was for our family again. I loved every minute of it, once I knew everything was ok of course. I mean, look at the little angel I get to have in my life now!!

 

Am I lucky or what?