Hormonally speaking, I'm about done in. I have been all OVER the map just in the past 24 hours. Sparing many gruesome details, I'll just give you some highlights (and lowlights):
- My fabulous friend, Trudy, took Jeran and Ben for the day yesterday, giving me a wonderful break from juggling the needs (usually urgent and usually simulataneous) of 3 children. Emotions: euphoria, glee, relief
- My mom came in for another visit. Emotions: excitement, relief (again), and sadness (because she left again after just 24 hours)
- James had a meeting at church last night, not arriving home until 9:30ish, then proceeded to tell me he's leaving at the crack of dawn today; add to this the fact that he will be at a conference downtown Thursday and Friday (again, warranting an early departure and late arrival) and you have me experiencing: despair, anxiety, rage
- Grayson, while not ratcheted up to "colicky" in my book, has certainly made it to the "crabby/ fussy" page. While I realize this happens to many babies and will most certainly end within a few weeks, I still find myself: frustrated, enraged, depressed (particularly since it can and has hit at any time of the day and/or night).
-Feelings of isolation and loneliness just by nature of geography. The suburbs are killer that way.
The whole fussy baby thing is really throwing me for a loop. Yesterday it lasted throughout the morning, broke for the afternoon (thank goodness), and returned with a vengeance for, oh, 5 hours or so last night. It's SO INCREDIBLY FRUSTRATING not to know what the problem is. For one thing, he seems constantly hungry. I try to hold him off for at least 2 hours, but there are times when he seems to be rooting 4 minutes after being off the breast. IF there is anything that calms him down, it's different everytime. Sometimes it's more nursing or a bottle, sometimes it's the pacifier, sometimes it's the way we hold him, sometimes it's the swing or bouncy seat. It's never the same remedy twice in a row. It's exhausting and gives me a couple more emotions to grapple with: empathy for parents who have dealt with colic (I'm praying we don't reach that level, although maybe that's really where we are and I just don't realize it. Enter more panic) and dread for the weeks to come.
I also find myself continuing to deal with mom guilt. It's one of satan's greatest tools against me. I find so much self-doubt within myself about successfully parenting 3 boys. I beat myself up about discipline issues and how much time I spend with my boys (or don't), about not being the fun mom they deserve and about the spiritual training they are (or are not in many cases) receiving from me.
Anyway, like I said. Not a great time for me emotionally. I wouldn't place myself on the full-blown postpartum depression scale quite yet, but I'm definitely having some battles with my hormones & not finding the ability to find much wit and humor in the whole thing. Sorry to be Debbie Downer today (wah wah). :-) (Ok that does bring a slight smile to my face because I love that SNL skit.)
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Saturday, May 23, 2009
So I'm not technologically literate enough to know how to change my blog address, but I figure I've gotta throw Grayson a bone and at least change the title. My hope is that one day soon life will feel like the party I know it can be with so many fun boys in my life.
See how fun they all are? Sadly, this is the only photo of me from the past month, but it about sums things up on my end. :-)
Thursday, May 21, 2009
The Great Train Adventure
Now that a few hours have passed, I can look upon this afternoon as an adventure (as so stated in the title of this post) and not as a panic attack-inducing foray into my worst nightmares. Let's start with the sad fact that my mom had to return home this afternoon. She was an incredible help to us this week and spoiled all of us in countless ways. I cannot thank you enough, Mom! Her journey home was to take place via train, so we loaded up Minnie the Van to bring her to Union Station downtown. Generally, making a downtown Chicago trip is no biggie to me. I love the city and feel pretty confident with my driving skills (although, Mom, I saw you white-knuckling it a few times during our trip today - sorry about that. :-) ), and I knew we wouldn't have to get out of the car at any point in time, so I didn't think twice about this trip. After 12 years of living in the greater metropolitan area of Chicago, you'd think I would factor in the given that is rush hour traffic. You would also think that I'd be smart enough to know before leaving the house not only the exact way I'm taking TO my destination but also how to get home FROM it. Since neither of these genius notions crossed my synapses I entered the city limits today in the worst possible condition I could be in - unprepared.
The ride down was fairly uneventful. Traffic was a little heavier than I would have anticipated at the 3:30/4:00 hour, but we successfully navigated our way to Union Station and bid our reluctant farewells to "Nana"...amidst Jeran's sudden declarations that he had to use the potty. Of course. He was told he had to hold it. No sooner had we pulled away from the curb than Grayson began stirring. Following on the heels of his increasing cries for food was the realization that I didn't actually know where I needed to go to get back on I-55. I, who so pride myself on my sense of direction, then spent 15 minutes driving around essentially the same city blocks, now clogged with taxis, buses, and pedestrians, feeling my panic mount as Jeran continued to insist upon his need for a bathroom. At the same time, Grayson had launched into a full-scale infant wail to remind me that he was flippin' starving! Ben decided at this time to chime in with his own cries of hungry protest about being held captive in his car seat. This was the moment my husband called to check in, and I did what comes naturally to me in these times of stress - burst into tears. While talking me through the way home, James also insisted that I pull over somewhere safe and attend to the pressing needs of our kids before trying to make my way home blinded by tears and frustration. Right. Pull over in the middle of the city and drag 3 kids age 4 and under to a potty and a place to nurse. James suggested finding a self-park garage in which to nurse Grayson and digging up a container of some sort for Jeran to let loose in (an option my mom had also offered up). When I felt confident that I knew where I needed to go to get home, I did just that. Jeran thought it was pretty hilarious to pee into an empty McDonalds' sundae cup (none of you will now look at ice cream the same again) although we both started getting nervous when the cup reached it's almost-full point before he tapered off. Breathing a sigh of relief that that issue was taken care of, I turned my attention to a completely red-faced, screaming infant. Now the only child not having his needs attended to was Ben. Did I mention I ventured out on this trip unprepared? For my child whose love for food very nearly rivals my own, I had nothing to offer, so to keep him happy I (again, at the suggestion of my brilliant hubby) released him from his car seat so he could happily wander the full 3 feet of space that our van offers as a walking area. After about 15 minutes I cut off Grayson's feeding session, thinking that it should be sufficient to get us home, buckled everyone back into their seats, got rid of the offensive McDonalds' cup, and turned toward home. A fat lot of good that side trip did me. As soon as we pulled onto the parking lot...er, expressway I mean...everyone started melting down again. What could I do except pray hard, block out as much of the noise as I could, and steel myself for a nightmarish trip home. In fairly short order everyone settled down and after James directed me to some safe backroads to get me home, we arrived back home a mere 3 1/2 hours after we had left it. It goes without saying that I have learned from this experience (for one thing always ALWAYS always carry snacks and a complete map!). I also feel that my first trial by fire as a mom of 3 kids is behind me. I survived it. I will survive what's to come. And Mom, to you I say, quit beating yourself up about this whole incident! But if you MUST assuage any feelings of guilt you should know I am a big fan of drinks that include both caffeine and chocolate. :-) Kidding. SERIOUSLY stop feeling bad.
The ride down was fairly uneventful. Traffic was a little heavier than I would have anticipated at the 3:30/4:00 hour, but we successfully navigated our way to Union Station and bid our reluctant farewells to "Nana"...amidst Jeran's sudden declarations that he had to use the potty. Of course. He was told he had to hold it. No sooner had we pulled away from the curb than Grayson began stirring. Following on the heels of his increasing cries for food was the realization that I didn't actually know where I needed to go to get back on I-55. I, who so pride myself on my sense of direction, then spent 15 minutes driving around essentially the same city blocks, now clogged with taxis, buses, and pedestrians, feeling my panic mount as Jeran continued to insist upon his need for a bathroom. At the same time, Grayson had launched into a full-scale infant wail to remind me that he was flippin' starving! Ben decided at this time to chime in with his own cries of hungry protest about being held captive in his car seat. This was the moment my husband called to check in, and I did what comes naturally to me in these times of stress - burst into tears. While talking me through the way home, James also insisted that I pull over somewhere safe and attend to the pressing needs of our kids before trying to make my way home blinded by tears and frustration. Right. Pull over in the middle of the city and drag 3 kids age 4 and under to a potty and a place to nurse. James suggested finding a self-park garage in which to nurse Grayson and digging up a container of some sort for Jeran to let loose in (an option my mom had also offered up). When I felt confident that I knew where I needed to go to get home, I did just that. Jeran thought it was pretty hilarious to pee into an empty McDonalds' sundae cup (none of you will now look at ice cream the same again) although we both started getting nervous when the cup reached it's almost-full point before he tapered off. Breathing a sigh of relief that that issue was taken care of, I turned my attention to a completely red-faced, screaming infant. Now the only child not having his needs attended to was Ben. Did I mention I ventured out on this trip unprepared? For my child whose love for food very nearly rivals my own, I had nothing to offer, so to keep him happy I (again, at the suggestion of my brilliant hubby) released him from his car seat so he could happily wander the full 3 feet of space that our van offers as a walking area. After about 15 minutes I cut off Grayson's feeding session, thinking that it should be sufficient to get us home, buckled everyone back into their seats, got rid of the offensive McDonalds' cup, and turned toward home. A fat lot of good that side trip did me. As soon as we pulled onto the parking lot...er, expressway I mean...everyone started melting down again. What could I do except pray hard, block out as much of the noise as I could, and steel myself for a nightmarish trip home. In fairly short order everyone settled down and after James directed me to some safe backroads to get me home, we arrived back home a mere 3 1/2 hours after we had left it. It goes without saying that I have learned from this experience (for one thing always ALWAYS always carry snacks and a complete map!). I also feel that my first trial by fire as a mom of 3 kids is behind me. I survived it. I will survive what's to come. And Mom, to you I say, quit beating yourself up about this whole incident! But if you MUST assuage any feelings of guilt you should know I am a big fan of drinks that include both caffeine and chocolate. :-) Kidding. SERIOUSLY stop feeling bad.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Adjusting OR Would the person who coined the phrase "This too shall pass" please stuff it....
Yeah, did I say in the previous post it might take one to three days to get out an update? I meant one to three WEEKS. Adjusting to 3 kids (not to mention adjusting again to a newborn) has been pretty much as challenging as I anticipated. Which I guess is a positive because then I wasn't blindsided Survivor-style or anything. However, it can be difficult to keep perspective at 5 a.m. when you've been awake for 2 1/2 hours. It may go without saying after that comment that Grayson is not into sleeping. Not unusual for a baby, I realize. He has many, many periods throughout the day and night when he is completely awake and fighting off his need to snooze. Last night it happened to be from 2:30 - 5 a.m. Blech. Even as I type he's lying here on my lap completely alert and, honestly, a bit fussy, which also isn't unusual. He seems, also not shockingly, most comfortable when being held. We're trying to figure out if gas issues are the culprit to his frequent desire to party, but it's so hard to know with such a new person. Aside from not sleeping, his other current claim to fame is his appetite. It is not uncommon for him to be rooting voraciously after only an hour has passed from his previous nursing marathon. I worry that he's not getting enough, but at his two week dr. visit last week he weighed in at 8lbs. 9 oz., and his going home weight was 7lbs. 15oz., so I know he's putting on weight. Plus, his system is quite clearly in functioning order as he has a (not-so) little baby bowel movement with every single feeding. Still...is it normal for a child to need to eat every HOUR?! I never had that with the other boys so this is new territory. I keep reminding myself every child is different...which is a cruel, cruel joke, I must say. I feel like I've earned my stripes, so to speak, figuring out two other kids. Why can't the third just take after one of them? Anyway...it's a good thing that he's so darn cute. This helps in those not-quite-lucid moments when I'm tempted to hand him off to the highest bidder.
Speaking of the other boys, they have adjusted incredibly well to this new guy and his needs. For Jeran it was pretty much "same ol" since he already had to adjust to Ben coming along and rocking his world. I was more concerned for how Ben would take having to be the big brother with his needs taking a back seat to a baby. Luckily he maintains his laid back personality and loves his baby brother. He says "baby" and gives kisses like he's always been the big brother and wasn't bumped to that position just 3 short weeks ago.
James and I are still trying to catch our breath after suddenly becoming outnumbered. He has been a champion of a dad (as he always is, I must note) and taken on even more duties than normal in this postpartum world that has become our life. He was home almost all day every day the first week we came home, only going into work for an hour or two in the afternoon while the boys rested. Last week he was back to work half days, and his sister, Rachel, came to stay with us. She was A-MAZ-ING. I always knew she was a natural with kids, but I was still impressed at how great she was with the boys and just knew exactly how to help. Thank you, Rach! Thursday afternoon we left for Michigan as James and Jeran were involved in my cousin's wedding on Friday. Ben got to spend a lot of time with Grandpa and Grandma Louwerse over those few days, and it was great to be with family and introduce everyone to Grayson. My mom is here with us now until Thursday, and what an incredible blessing she is! It's such a relief to have her here not only to help with the boys but also to know that she understands when I'm walking around zombie-style, being the world's worst conversationalist because it takes up all my brain cells to shower and remember to put nursing pads in my bra so I don't leak all over the place.
So my goals right now are taking one hour at a time, sleeping when I can, and not stressing over the fact that I don't have son #3 figured out in his third week of life. Low expectations is the name of the game. That way, when I manage to get out of the house or just get a load of laundry done (or turn out a mostly coherent blog post) I feel pretty darn successful.
Speaking of the other boys, they have adjusted incredibly well to this new guy and his needs. For Jeran it was pretty much "same ol" since he already had to adjust to Ben coming along and rocking his world. I was more concerned for how Ben would take having to be the big brother with his needs taking a back seat to a baby. Luckily he maintains his laid back personality and loves his baby brother. He says "baby" and gives kisses like he's always been the big brother and wasn't bumped to that position just 3 short weeks ago.
James and I are still trying to catch our breath after suddenly becoming outnumbered. He has been a champion of a dad (as he always is, I must note) and taken on even more duties than normal in this postpartum world that has become our life. He was home almost all day every day the first week we came home, only going into work for an hour or two in the afternoon while the boys rested. Last week he was back to work half days, and his sister, Rachel, came to stay with us. She was A-MAZ-ING. I always knew she was a natural with kids, but I was still impressed at how great she was with the boys and just knew exactly how to help. Thank you, Rach! Thursday afternoon we left for Michigan as James and Jeran were involved in my cousin's wedding on Friday. Ben got to spend a lot of time with Grandpa and Grandma Louwerse over those few days, and it was great to be with family and introduce everyone to Grayson. My mom is here with us now until Thursday, and what an incredible blessing she is! It's such a relief to have her here not only to help with the boys but also to know that she understands when I'm walking around zombie-style, being the world's worst conversationalist because it takes up all my brain cells to shower and remember to put nursing pads in my bra so I don't leak all over the place.
So my goals right now are taking one hour at a time, sleeping when I can, and not stressing over the fact that I don't have son #3 figured out in his third week of life. Low expectations is the name of the game. That way, when I manage to get out of the house or just get a load of laundry done (or turn out a mostly coherent blog post) I feel pretty darn successful.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Mesh Underwear is Hot: The Grayson James Story
We're on day 5 of being a family of 5, and I'm finally sitting down to chronicle what's been happening. It will probably take all day with all the interruptions, but c'est la vie. That pretty much sums up anything in my life these days. Case in point, it has taken me half an hour to get this much typed.
As you are aware from the last several posts, I was beyond ready to go into labor and meet our last baby. You also know from the last post that the dr. I saw last Wed. was willing to help try and move things along. And whatever the heck she did - WORKED! About 3:30 that afternoon I started having very sporadic contractions, and by the time James got home from work around 5:30 they had regulated to about 10 minutes apart. From there we timed them anywhere from 3 - 7 minutes apart and they were pretty intense. James finally suggested calling the doctor's office to see what they thought. I was being a little stubborn about it because at the office I was told actual labor probably wouldn't start for a day or two, so of course in my mind I could never be the exception to the rule. Because Grayson is kid 3, they didn't want to take any chances on a super-fast delivery and told me to come on in and get checked out. Commence frantic running around. Even though I thought we were ready to go I realized I hadn't pulled anything together for the boys, and, of course, between contractions I had to finish loading the dishwasher. Can't leave a messy kitchen, you know.
We arrived at the hospital around 7:15, I think, and James had some kind orderlies meet me with a wheelchair while he waited with the boys for our friends, Mac and Jeanne, to arrive to take them home with them. What an enormous blessing that they were ready and willing to meet us at the hospital! It saved tons of time (which turned out to be a good thing) and there was such peace of mind knowing they were in loving and more-than-capable hands.
Meanwhile, in the birthing unit, I was being asked the most absurd of all questions you can ask a woman in labor who has just walked up to the labor and delivery desk: "What brings you in today?" Well, nurse, I was just passing by.....
So after my most recent contraction subsided, I let her know that I was in labor with child #3 and because my membranes had been stripped (sorry for the rated-PG term there, for some of you) at the office earlier that day I was told to come in and get checked out. Three contractions and a quick change into stylish hospital wear later, James joined me in the triage room. I will say, to any mom who has ever had to labor alone, you have my utmost sympathy and admiration. Just those few minutes of laboring without James with me was incredibly scary and lonely.
They hooked me up at that point and began monitoring my progress. By now the contractions were very painful (I think I told the nurse I was at a 7 or 8 on the pain scale), and I remember saying to James, panicky, "What if they send me back home in this much pain?" Now I need to send out props to all you mothers who labor naturally. I am NOT cut out for it. I wasn't a raving lunatic or anything (in fact, for me to make noise or do a lot of moving around makes it WAY worse), but the mild amount of panic I felt during the contractions I did experience leads me to believe that I couldn't hack it without the blessed drugs.
Long story short, they kept me and in about an hour's time I progressed from 5 to 7 cm dilated. As soon as they got me in the birthing room the anesthesiologist was called (praise the Lord!) and they got my epidural going. Then the doc came in looking stern. He was a little put out at the person I had seen earlier that day for helping me along, since he was concerned that with my labor not starting completely naturally it would slow down and possibly stop. He did break my water to keep things moving after the epidural kicked in. From that point it was just a waiting game.
Around 11:00 I was told it was "go" time and after only 10 minutes of pushing (a new record for us, down from 2 1/2 hours with Jeran and then 45 mins. with Ben) Grayson arrived. Because we decided to keep the little guy's gender a surprise this time around it was a pretty amazing moment when he came out. But I would also liken it a little bit to the ultrasounds when we found out that Ben and Jeran would be boys. Both are pretty equally exciting, but I think because of the prolonged wait period to find out it made the moment of his birth a little more suspenseful. In a good way.
I really had prepared myself for some small level of disappointment if my last baby was not a girl, but that never hit me. I have been ecstatic since the moment he arrived that he was also a boy. There is something so fabulous about knowing that my boys can grow up buddying around together, doing all those boy things, and yet seeing what different personalities and interests they will have. Also, I've had some experiences with girls in recent months that lead me to believe that type of drama is NOT for me. Not that I mean to imply all girls are filled with drama (although I guess I just did), but I think I'm actually better suited for the straight-up energy and bustle of boys. Soooo...it's us and our three sons!
Next post will be about how the adjustment home has been going. You can expect that one in another one to three days at this rate.
As you are aware from the last several posts, I was beyond ready to go into labor and meet our last baby. You also know from the last post that the dr. I saw last Wed. was willing to help try and move things along. And whatever the heck she did - WORKED! About 3:30 that afternoon I started having very sporadic contractions, and by the time James got home from work around 5:30 they had regulated to about 10 minutes apart. From there we timed them anywhere from 3 - 7 minutes apart and they were pretty intense. James finally suggested calling the doctor's office to see what they thought. I was being a little stubborn about it because at the office I was told actual labor probably wouldn't start for a day or two, so of course in my mind I could never be the exception to the rule. Because Grayson is kid 3, they didn't want to take any chances on a super-fast delivery and told me to come on in and get checked out. Commence frantic running around. Even though I thought we were ready to go I realized I hadn't pulled anything together for the boys, and, of course, between contractions I had to finish loading the dishwasher. Can't leave a messy kitchen, you know.
We arrived at the hospital around 7:15, I think, and James had some kind orderlies meet me with a wheelchair while he waited with the boys for our friends, Mac and Jeanne, to arrive to take them home with them. What an enormous blessing that they were ready and willing to meet us at the hospital! It saved tons of time (which turned out to be a good thing) and there was such peace of mind knowing they were in loving and more-than-capable hands.
Meanwhile, in the birthing unit, I was being asked the most absurd of all questions you can ask a woman in labor who has just walked up to the labor and delivery desk: "What brings you in today?" Well, nurse, I was just passing by.....
So after my most recent contraction subsided, I let her know that I was in labor with child #3 and because my membranes had been stripped (sorry for the rated-PG term there, for some of you) at the office earlier that day I was told to come in and get checked out. Three contractions and a quick change into stylish hospital wear later, James joined me in the triage room. I will say, to any mom who has ever had to labor alone, you have my utmost sympathy and admiration. Just those few minutes of laboring without James with me was incredibly scary and lonely.
They hooked me up at that point and began monitoring my progress. By now the contractions were very painful (I think I told the nurse I was at a 7 or 8 on the pain scale), and I remember saying to James, panicky, "What if they send me back home in this much pain?" Now I need to send out props to all you mothers who labor naturally. I am NOT cut out for it. I wasn't a raving lunatic or anything (in fact, for me to make noise or do a lot of moving around makes it WAY worse), but the mild amount of panic I felt during the contractions I did experience leads me to believe that I couldn't hack it without the blessed drugs.
Long story short, they kept me and in about an hour's time I progressed from 5 to 7 cm dilated. As soon as they got me in the birthing room the anesthesiologist was called (praise the Lord!) and they got my epidural going. Then the doc came in looking stern. He was a little put out at the person I had seen earlier that day for helping me along, since he was concerned that with my labor not starting completely naturally it would slow down and possibly stop. He did break my water to keep things moving after the epidural kicked in. From that point it was just a waiting game.
Around 11:00 I was told it was "go" time and after only 10 minutes of pushing (a new record for us, down from 2 1/2 hours with Jeran and then 45 mins. with Ben) Grayson arrived. Because we decided to keep the little guy's gender a surprise this time around it was a pretty amazing moment when he came out. But I would also liken it a little bit to the ultrasounds when we found out that Ben and Jeran would be boys. Both are pretty equally exciting, but I think because of the prolonged wait period to find out it made the moment of his birth a little more suspenseful. In a good way.
I really had prepared myself for some small level of disappointment if my last baby was not a girl, but that never hit me. I have been ecstatic since the moment he arrived that he was also a boy. There is something so fabulous about knowing that my boys can grow up buddying around together, doing all those boy things, and yet seeing what different personalities and interests they will have. Also, I've had some experiences with girls in recent months that lead me to believe that type of drama is NOT for me. Not that I mean to imply all girls are filled with drama (although I guess I just did), but I think I'm actually better suited for the straight-up energy and bustle of boys. Soooo...it's us and our three sons!
Next post will be about how the adjustment home has been going. You can expect that one in another one to three days at this rate.
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