//S A T U R D A Y M O R N I N G//

It's Saturday morning. The birds start their songs around 4:30. I know this because I'm awake nursing my baby at this time, and they're out there chirping and squawking, waiting for the sun to rise. Lying awake, wedged between my husband and my baby, listening to the birds; this is one of the moments of motherhood that are so sweet. This is a moment I want to remember.

Johnny slept until 8:00 this morning.  Truly a miracle because he has been waking up around 5:00 this past week.  It's been a week of bad sleep all around. He's cutting 3 teeth right now, so that's probably part of it.  He also wants to walk like nobody's business, so that could be a contributing factor as well. Maybe the early sunrise is making him wake up early. Maybe we need to get some heavier shades. But I love the early sunrise in the spring and summer and I hate the idea of manufacturing a winter-like darkness when we've finally left that behind us.

Anyway, Johnny slept til 8:00 and Alex and I rejoiced. The only problem was that I had set the timer on the coffee pot to 7:00. So the coffee was not as fresh as it could have been. Having a timer on the coffee pot is about as close as I will ever get to having a butler. It's good, but it's not the real thing.

This week has been beautiful! It rained all day almost nonstop on Monday. Tuesday the sun came out and -boom- everything was green and amazing.  I feel like someone experiencing spring for the very first time. I think it's in part because of our never-ending soul-sucking winter, and in part because I spent most of last spring and summer inside, on the couch, with my newborn.  My friend Jacqui over at Mexican Domestic Goddess, and I had had our babies on May 30 and June 1 last year. We agree that we kind of skipped summer last year. So this year I intend on being outside as much as possible.

We got the garden in last weekend. Lettuce, arugula, beets, cucumbers, summer squash, sugar snap peas, peppers, carrots, and 10 heirloom tomato plants. This is our fifth garden. I'm no master gardener yet, but I've learned a few things along the way.

1) Plant what you know you will eat. Bush beans are easy to grow and high yielding. We did them in our first two gardens for these reason, but we never ate them so they just went bad. Lesson learned.

2) Plant close together.  The more veggies there are, the less room weeds have to take over.

3) Tomato plants don't need much water.  If the leaves looked wilted in the afternoon, then they need some water.

4) Start a new row of arugula every few weeks and you'll have greens for the entire summer.

But there is one score I need a little help on.  Rabbits.  We have a fence around our veggie patch to keep them out, but I can't seem to keep them away from my flowers in the front.  I've tried a peppermint oil based spray that work great last year but this year isn't doing much. I also sprinkled cayenne pepper everywhere, but that's not stopping them either.  Any suggestions? We can't get a cat, I'm allergic.

// 7 Q U I C K T A K E S V O L 5 //

linking up with Jen at conversion diary for my 7 quicktakes

//1//

I have to start out talking about the weather because I'm a Minnesotan and that's what we do. Well, as I am sure you're aware, it has been the coldest, most lousy winter/spring since we took up keeping records of such things. And we just can't catch a break. I was going through some budgeting stuff and realized our April heating bill was higher than our December heating bill. I was hoping that now that it's finally May I would be able to shut off the furnace and save a little moolah, but I caved in this morning and turned it back on after realizing Johnny and I both had ice cubes for feet. 

//2//

I gave my student recital last weekend. I've been teaching for seven years now but I still get so nervous for my student recitals. I spend months preparing my students, picking out music that will be good for them, helping them learn it, tweaking, fussing, and stressing over it. Hoping I did enough and feeling the weight of responsibility, the day of the recital comes and the only thing I can do is sit there and watch and pray they don't go too fast! 

All my students did great, of course, and left me feeling quite proud! 

//3//

My little brother is graduating from high school in just a couple weeks! He and I got together last week and I did some senior pictures for him. I don't plan on trying to become a professional photographer or anything even remotely close to resembling that, but I am trying to learn how my camera works and would like to justly capture all the beautiful moments in my life. So there you have it. And here are some of his pictures. I think they turned out alright, if I do say so myself! 

//4//

Alex had his last final of the semester last night--and there was much rejoicing! Now he has a whole week and a half of freedom before starting summer classes. wah-wah. 

I have to brag about my husband a little bit. He never toots his own horn so I'm going to toot it for him. 

Alex is totally shifting career paths and pursing physician assistant programs. His first two degrees are in Spanish and linguistics so he has to take a bunch of (really hard) science prerequisites before applying to PA school. He goes to class at night, studies every day, works FULL TIME, oh, and he has a wife and a baby that he takes care of. It's a lot of work, and Alex never complains. I admire so much how hard he is working, (4.0 GPA!) and feel very blessed because I know he's doing it for Johnny and me. It's been hard on many different levels to have Alex in school, but I have no doubt in my mind that he is doing the right thing and I know it will be so worth it in the end. 

My mom very graciously offered to come watch Johnny so that Alex and I could go out on a date.  We went to our old haunt Pazzaluna and took a little stroll through Rice Park, which has witnessed both our first "I love you" and our engagement. St Paul was recently voted "best romantic getaway " in North America. I tend to agree!

//5//

Now it's time to talk about that mystery of mysteries, the bane of most parents' existence, that eternal enigma: baby sleep! 

A few months ago I blogged about transitioning Johnny to his crib.  He has yet to go an entire night in his crib but we had a couple months of two 3 or 4 hours stretches of sleep on his own before coming into bed with us. Getting to complete a few REM cycles each night was doing wonders for my sanity. But the last few weeks he's been going through some sleep regression.  It's been hard to get him down in the first place, and then he just hasn't been sleeping soundly.  So, now he's back in bed with us, for the most part. When we started putting Johnny in his crib I knew it was the right thing for all of our sleeps sake, but I was sad to not have Johnny in bed with us.  Now I should be happy he's back, right? Well, I kinda got used to having space and being able to sleep in any position I like. But it is nice to be co-sleeping again, even if I have a crook in my neck. And when he won't sleep more than 30 minutes in his crib, and then does three hours straight in our bed, we know that's what he needs. 

//6//

Johnny loves opening cupboards and drawers. He recently learned how to open the drawers on his dresser. I thought he would pull all the clothes out, but he just likes to stand or sit in front of the dresser and pull the bottom drawer open and push it shut. It amazes me how smart babies are! He's learned pretty quickly where he needs to keep his fingers so they don't get pinched. He tries to pull the drawer all the way out (but it is attached, so it won't come out). He stands in front of the opened drawer, holds onto the edge and throws his whole little body into trying to pull it out, just like an adult might do when pulling on something heavy. It's also amazing to see those natural reflexes showing up in my baby. 

standing on tippy toes in front of the dresser

//7//

Johnny turns 1 in exactly two weeks. I'm not quite sure what I think about it. It's feels like we just got him and like we've always had him all at the same time. 

We're planning a little birthday bash to celebrate Johnny and how well he's doing after this first, rather rocky, year.  I made up some invitations, yes the old fashioned kind that you put in the mail. And I've started making party decorations, partly because it takes me two weeks to do a project like that now, and partly because having a project like this helps me process the upcoming event. When Alex and I were engaged we did a lot a things DIY. Our invitations, center pieces, my veil. Working on those things gave me a chance to wrap my mind around what was about to happen, and savor that feeling of anticipation. When I was pregnant with Johnny getting his room ready and sorting through baby clothes served a similar purpose. 

My baby is almost 1. 

But he's still my baby.

for more quicktakes visit conversion diary

// M O T H E R H O O D //

Being on the other side of Mother's Day, it feels like such a rite of passage. Actually, my first Mother's Day was 3 years ago.  I had just found out that we had lost a baby at 11 weeks gestation. Going through a miscarriage had been devastating and exhausting, and celebrating Mother's Day just a couple weeks later was incredibly painful.  We were at church the morning of that Mother's Day and there was a blessing said for all the moms. A friend at the end of our pew, who knew of our loss, looked over at me and silently mouthed the words "happy Mother's Day." And that was the extent of my celebration.

Last year Johnny missed Mother's Day by just a couple of weeks.  We went to the farmer market that day and, as I was very clearly with child, many a person wished me a happy Mother's Day. And I was beaming with anticipation.

Now Johnny is here, and he has brought so much joy with him.  And He has given me the gift of motherhood.

Motherhood is one of those things that permanently changes you. I am a mother. I will be a mother for the rest of my life. There is no going back. Every part of me now gives evidence to my identity: my unwashed hair, my tired eyes, my stretched out skin.

Motherhood is this strange dichotomy of highest heights and low lows, extreme pain and wild joy. It begins with probably the greatest pain many of us will ever know. Medicated or un-medicated, pushing out a new life is hard. It is a feat. But then that new life, completely helpless, 100% dependent, is placed on your chest and whether by a miracle or by hormones that intense pain is obliterated and you know only wild joy and fierce love.

Motherhood is physical, demanding the whole body at all hours of the day (and night). I quit my gym, mostly because I didn't have time to go anymore. But I joke that I don't need to go because life is my gym now. Try carrying around a couple gallons of milk with you wherever you go and you'll get what I mean. 

Motherhood is making me grow in holiness, whether I like it or not. My tendency is to be selfish. Being a mother makes me be selfless, as well as patient, and gentle, and loving. I am becoming a better person because I am a mother. 

Motherhood is making me know Christ more. I have never understood the unconditional love that the Lord has for us so well as I do when I look at my son and know that I will love him no matter what. And when he screams because I have just thwarted his plans to get into something that would cause him harm I say, "child, I know your upset, I see your tears, but you have to trust me when I say I know what is best for you." I am seeing a small little glimpse of how the Father must see me. That is a most beautiful gift.

To all who have gone before me on the this road of motherhood, my own wonderful mother who has taught me so much, my grandmother with all her wisdom, my mother-in-law who gave me my best friend, and all the other women who are showing me on a daily basis what it means to be a mother-- thank you and Happy Mother's Day!

//

We have now established a tradition of going to the farmers market on Mothers Day. This year we followed it up with Mass at the Cathedral.  Here are some snaps from our morning as a family. Enjoy!

The perfect example of motherhood.

Johnny with his namesake: St. John the Baptist

// M O M C O N F E S S I O N V O L 4 //

It has been one of Those Weeks.

It began Saturday night when I came down with the flu. I've only been sick one other time since Johnny has been born (which is remarkable to me considering how sleep-deprived I have been for, well, almost a year now) and it is not fun being sick with a baby.  It's not fun being sick any time, but it's really not fun being sick with a baby.

When you are sick without a baby, you just call in to work and say "I'm sick" and then you make yourself some tea, and go to bed.

When you are sick with a baby you still have to do all the things for your baby that you'd be doing when you're not sick.

Thankfully the worst part of my bug was over the weekend so Alex was home to help with Johnny and ensure that I slept in and got a couple of naps and hot baths.

Speaking of hot baths, Monday evening after dinner Alex said he would take some time out from studying so I could go take a hot bath.  I was soooo looking forward to some peace and quiet. I got my hot water ready with some essential oils in it.  I got the iPad ready so that I could continue watching The Paradise on Netflix. (recommended to me recently by a friend. It's delightful! It's Downton Abbey meets Mad Men. Check it out.) And just as I'm getting ready to hop in, Alex comes in the bathroom with a cranky Johnny who needs a clean diaper. Changing the dirty diaper revealed some sore little baby butt-cheeks so Alex (who is a great daddy and so attentive to our sweet boy) announced that he would give Johnny sink a sink-bath while I was taking my tub-bath. (yes, we're close like that.) Would he like to just give Johnny a quick bath in the tub? I can wait til they're done to have my bath? No, says he, it's fine, we can all go at the same time......

Well, I think every mama out there agrees that a relaxing bath isn't a relaxing bath if your baby is in the same room as you fussing and crying. Ten minutes into this tandem bathing experiment I am snapping like the irritable, impatient person I try not to be.

Then this happened....

How does it know EXACTLY when the rain will start?

                                              

Every. Single. Day

Not only is this chilly, dreary, rainy weather totally and completely soul-crushing, but it does this weird thing to Alex's car- it prevents it from starting. We've taken it to the mechanic before when this has happened and they can offer no explanation. (Any mechanics reading this? Any thoughts?) The result is that Alex has been taking my car to work all week, and Johnny and I have been stranded at home. Which was fine Monday and Tuesday as I was still feeling too sick to want to go anywhere. But now it's Thursday and 5 days of not leaving the house, save to get the mail,  it starting to take it's toll. (Kind of like it did this time!)

Then the icing on this sick-rainy-home-bound cake is that Johnny has had a terrible week of napping.  He's always been a bad napper, but this week it has been extra special.  I'm talking about only snoozing while he nurses and then as soon as I attempt to lay him down, or shift a little so I can lay down with him, we wakes up and he's ready to go again.

Today was the breaking point. Johnny slept for a grand total of 10 minutes and nothing I tried could get him to go back to sleep, and all I wanted was a little time to myself. I allowed myself to cry it out once; one tearful phone conversation with Alex. After that every cup of coffee knocked off the desk, every tiny fist pulling my hair, every baby climbing up on the toilet while I'm trying to rinse out a dirty diaper I would meet with a smile and a (somewhat desperate) laugh. And further more, I was going to get dressed, in something nice and springy, and put on earrings and put on make up and pretend like it was a nice day out. We even  went for a short walk in the rain and I think the fresh air was just what Johnny needed because after that he took a 45 minute nap! Hallelujah!

                               

                                    

While writing this up I received an update on a friend-of-a-friends baby who was born with a very serious and very rare birth defect and will probably not live to see a first birthday. My heart ached as I read the update and I almost deleted this entire post because it seemed so ridiculous to be complaining about my "bad" week when this family is going though such a devastating circumstance. I'd like to say that everything we went through with Johnny has taught me to never take my time with him for granted. But to be perfectly honest there are many days that I take for granted how well Johnny is doing, and the great health he is enjoying now, and the fact that we will get to see him grow up! Any "bad" day or even week that we have is nothing compared to what it could be, and should be counted as a joy along our journey.

So here's to seeing silver linings, and finding joy in all things, counting my blessings, and being better tomorrow.  And if you are reading this, please lift up that sweet family in prayer.

//

// N I C U d i a r i e s : J E S S 'S S T O R Y //

Thank you, Jess, for sharing your story with us.  She points out right away that all babies are miracles. I completely agree with that and would add that babies are also resilient. I think it is a great testimony to the resiliency of babies, and human life, that despite such a risky situation little Juliette was born in such great health! 

NICUdiaries is place that celebrates the progress made by babies who have had a rough start to life.

 Anyone is welcome to share their story here. 
If you have a story you'd like to share feel free to email me annagcoyne@gmail.com

The views expressed are those of the guest writers

 and do not necessarily reflect of the views of  k n i t o n e y a r n o v e r. 

Juliet came into the world like a firecracker, despite everyone's best efforts to stop her.  I feel like our NICU journey starts at the moment we found out I was pregnant, although we would have never imagined this would be our story.

She is literally a miracle from conception (as all babies are). My first pregnancy had been a breeze. I felt amazing and had none of the normal pregnancy induced side effects like morning sickness.  In December 2012 after an easy labor and delivery I gave birth to a 41 week, 8lb 3oz clone of my husband, Jaslyn Jean. We were smitten.  Since I was exclusively breast feeding, I chose to use a Paragaurd IUD as birth control.  My plan was to leave it in until Jaslyn was about 18 months old and then we would try for baby #2. 

Fast forward to October 2013.  Jaslyn was 10 months old and I was working full time and finishing my doctorate in nursing.  I was unnaturally tired and just generally felt poorly, but I had a new baby and crazy stress and responsibilities, so I wasn't concerned. My mom kept telling me I needed to take a pregnancy test, but I kept reassuring her the Paragaurd was one of the most effective forms of birth control and there was no way I was pregnant. Plus, I was still exclusively nursing Jaslyn and we had to use some fertility medication to even conceive her -- there was no way I had randomly gotten pregnant with all of those things working against a baby.

My mom finally convinces me to take a test, which is positive, but a pregnancy is impossible because I have this very very effective form of birth control.  I go to my OB, who also thinks the test was likely a false positive or maybe I have a tubal pregnancy.  We immediately go for an ultrasound which reveals....

One healthy, viable, 10 week old fetus.  Say what?!?!

Since my doctor had never had this happen to a patient, we did not really know what to expect.  I went to WVU to see a high risk perinatologist, who tried to remove the IUD but was unsuccessful.  Somewhere in the course of 3-4 days the IUD had moved from my cervix to the top of my uterus, above the baby.  And there it remained for the remainder of the pregnancy.

My pregnancy progressed mostly as normal with no major compilations through 7 months. There was a risk that the IUD would move closer to the cervix as the pregnancy progressed and that premature labor might be a risk.  There were lots of women, however, who had delivered fullterm babies with an IUD.  I felt terrible though. Constantly tired. Horrible hip and back pain.  Nausea and vomiting. Nothing like my first babe. The Sunday of my 30th week, I started having contractions. Over the next few days I made multiple trips to the labor and delivery unit but was always sent home and advised to continue bedrest.  On Wednesday, my third trip to L&D ended with my water breaking and me being transferred by ambulance 2.5 hours from home to a large hospital with a NICU. From Wednesday to Saturday the doctors worked to keep my baby from being born. On Saturday morning, they could do no more, and after a wild unmedicated labor, Juliet Todd Wooten made her way into this mad, mad, world. 

Juliet was admitted to the NICU for prematurity alone.  By the grace of God she did not suffer any complications from the delivery or have any major medical problems.  At just 31 weeks, she weighed 4 lbs 1.5oz and required no ventilation or oxygenation.  For the first three days of her life she received IV fluid and prophylactic antibiotics.  She was also under a bili light for jaundice for days 1-4.  My baby was 4 days old before I ever got to hold her.  She sat in her little incubator with her tiny Ray-Bans and basked in the warmth and stillness.  She did not cry. 

I cried.  I cried all day for at least the first week.  I was scared.  Even if she was healthy, no one was holding her, comforting her.  What if she was distressed but the nurses were too busy to go to her.  How could I stay by her side and still continue to take care of my 15 month old at home? I was tired, so tired. 

I feel like the NICU experience is just like a job.  You have a baby, and instead of resting, starting maternity leave, snuggling with your new little one surrounded by all those you love, you get up and go to work.  You and the baby both.  Your baby works hard to grow. Learns to suck, swallow, and breathe.  You wake up the morning after your labor, pack your breast pump, and head to the office.  You sit there and stare at her, only taking breaks to pump and pee.  You leave at night, without the baby that brought you there, lie sleepless in a strange bed, waking every 3 hours to pump, and then do it all again the next day.  I struggled with how often I should be at her bedside.  The doctors told us we couldn’t be with her all the time.  We needed to take time for ourselves and our other daughter.  I needed to heal from my crazy birth experience.  But every time I left the nurse said “When are you coming back?”  I know they meant nothing by it but I felt so accountable.  So guilty for being outside the hospital walls while she was within. 

And in the end, we are the lucky ones.  The lucky ones whose baby was strong from the start.  We needed no interventions during our stay in the NICU.  No oxygen, no medications. A single tiny feeding tube in baby’s nose until she could take a bottle.   The doctors were impressed with Juliet’s will.  The nurses called her a firecracker and joked that she thought she was full-term baby from the start.  We stayed for exactly 3 weeks and took home a 5 lb 8oz baby girl.  Having the healthiest baby in the unit makes you hyper aware of the families around you who aren’t as lucky.  But it doesn’t make you feel any better about your situation. It’s still unnatural.  All wrong.  Absolutely heartbreaking.

We had amazing care in the NICU and couldn’t be more grateful for the doctors and nurses who cared for our little love. We had the best in the worst situation.   If I could say anything to the parents who have yet to go on this journey it would be this:  Nothing prepares you for the NICU.  No one understands how you feel or what you are going through except for those parents who have been there before you.  Don’t read all the books about preemies, they will just scare you.  Try to sleep.  Let others do as much as they can for you while you focus on your baby.  Cry it out.  It isn’t fair and that’s your right.  Get mad.  Its natural. Pray.  But know that your baby is where they need to be.  The NICU staff will take excellent care of your baby. Your time there is an eternity and an instant.  Take pictures every day because they grow and change so fast.  Before you know it, you’ll be telling your story…

// H O W T O S T A Y H O M E //

In case my last blog post left you feeling like being a stay-at-home-mom was like living in a black hole of diapers and kids that won't nap, I wanted to reassure you that it's not that bad. It's actually really great! It's great not having to get up and get ready right away in the morning. It's great hanging out with a super cute baby. It's great to see when your baby hits a milestone for the first time. For all the times Johnny is difficult, there are about 100 times he is very sweet, or cuddly, or funny and is making me laugh. 

In addition to the pure joy a baby brings, there are a few very key things that make being a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM) a bit easier.  These are the ones that I have found to be the life savers:

//

1. A programmable coffee maker. It's 7am. You were up 2, 3, maybe 4 times during the night with your sweet bundle, and it just hurts to get out of bed. But then you remember, you (or your very thoughtful husband) got the coffee ready the night before and now it's waiting for you, fresh, hot, and ready for consumption. And all of a sudden getting out of bed doesn't seem so bad. This was not me this morning because we forgot to get the coffee ready last night. So I had to go down to a freezing kitchen (why still so cold, MN?) this morning and then sit there and wait for my coffee to finish brewing. I know, I know, #firstworldproblems 

2. A smartphone. I have written most of this post on my smartphone because my baby loves the computer and I can't use it in front of him or he has conniption fits trying to get to it. He used to feel the same way about my phone and I had to hide that from him as well, but he's over it now, moved on to bigger and better things. 

The smartphone is something I feel slightly conflicted about. Being home all day can get lonely, so things like Facebook and Instagram become means of socialization, windows to the outside world. I also keep books on my phone and apps for reading scripture and doing the Liturgy of the Hours. But I  don't want to be always on my phone. I also don't want Johnny to see me always on my phone. I would like him to see me reading books, actual paper books. I know that E-readers are the future, or even the present? I know that they are super convenient. But the part of me that should have been born 100 years ago loves holding a book made of paper, feeling the pages, writing notes in the margin with a pencil. And I want Johnny to love books. I also want him to be creative and imaginative. I want to engaged him while we're home together. So I try to keep the phone usage to a minimum unless Johnny is happily playing with some toys, or if he has fallen asleep. Smartphones are great for when you've got a sleeping babe in your arms who will wake up if you try to put him down. 

3. Good hygiene products. I know it's a big stereotype that SAHMs never shower, but for this mama, it is pretty true. Some moms I know are great about showering on a daily basis. For me however, it is very difficult. I would either have to get up at 6 each day, (not going to happen) or shower before bed (I hate doing that, what a complete waste of first-day clean hair). So I shower on the weekends and I usually get up early on Wednesdays for a midweek shower. What do I do all the days in between? I use this deodorant from Weleda. Get it discounted at Vitacost.  It's great and it literally smells like a gin and tonic, so it's like happy hour all day long. Kind of.  I also use this really great dry shampoo.  My sister, who happens to be my hair stylist, introduced me to this a while back and it is hands down my favorite hair care product.  Just brush your hair, spray it in, do a little back-combing, and you'll look like you came straight from the beauty parlor. If these two things aren't getting the job done I put on some lipstick. It's hard not to feel put together whilst wearing lipstick. 

4. Mamas' Groups. I believe that whatever it is you are doing in life, you need a good support system.  I think women need to support each other; and I think moms especially need to support each other.  It doesn't replace the support we get from our husbands or parents. But there's something very special about the fellowship of women who are raising their children together. I am very blessed  to have so many great moms in my circle of friends who I get to do life with and be encouraged by. Hearing their experiences makes me feel like I'm not in this alone. They've been there, done that. Or are currently doing it. Teething, diaper rash, introducing solids, problems with sleep, even if no one has a good solution just being heard and hearing someone say, "Yes, we have gone through that", makes mothering feel more normal and much more doable.

//

// S W I N G S & S T I L L N E S S //

This was going to be a post with photos from Johnny's first trip to the park and time spent as a family, but as I was thinking it over in my head it started turning into something else. Everyday this week I have attempted to go through pictures and put this post together but it has not been possible due to a certain little man who is now mobile. Johnny goes bananas whenever he sees the computer or the camera and won't rest until he can sink his teeth into one of them. I simply can't use them unless he is sleeping. Over and over I find myself getting so frustrated with how little I am able to do while being home with Johnny.

I have chosen to be a stay-at-home-mom. You all know that I want to do this and have wanted it for many years. And I love it.  But at the same time, it is a sacrifice to stay home with a baby. I am a multi-tasker.  I like to get things done, keep the house clean, stay on top of laundry, make good meals, and do creative and meaningful projects. But some days all I can claim to have accomplished is reheating leftovers and walking Johnny up and down the hallway a billion times. And to be perfectly honest, it just doesn't always feel that fulfilling

Lately I have been thinking about some plans and projects I would like to accomplish. But at the same time I have been feeling like I am entering a season of life where I will be putting many of my ambitions aside and making my family my ambition. Not because I am dutifully putting aside ambitions for motherhood, but because my ambitions will be waiting for me, ready to be dusted off, when the time is right.  But motherhood is here, it's now, this is my shot.  My child, who is my blood, is here and I am all he wants and I get to shape him into the man he will become. And as cliche as it sounds, I know this time of him as baby is so fleeting.

So I am officially letting myself off the hook. I don't need to be productive every minute of the day. The house does not need to be immaculate. I don't need to be the greatest blogger on the www. But I do need to be present for my child's life.

In the past I have been known to be discontent with my situation in life. When I was single I just wanted to be married.  When I was married I just wanted to be a mother. Now I'm a mother and I just want....to start a business? To create art? I'm not even sure. But I think when the Lord said, "be still and know that I am God" He's also saying to me "Be content with where I have placed you."

//

Last weekend was beautiful. The sun was shining, it was warm outside, so we did the only logical thing to do, put some champagne in a water bottle (left over from brunch)(and no, we don't always have champagne with brunch) and take a family walk. Johnny and I have been walking almost everyday, but it was do nice to go with Alex. We decided to go to the nearby park and see if Johnny was ready for the baby swing. Turns out he was!

We had some great family time and pictures to prove it. Some day when Johnny is grown we'll look back and remember when....

// N I C U d i a r i e s: C A I L A 'S S T O R Y //

This week I am sharing Caila's story. She mentioned something that really hit home with me; it's the "pangs of guilt" for not realizing sooner that something is wrong. Hindsight is always 20/20 and looking back all the warning signs seem so obvious. It still breaks my heart that Johnny went a day and a half in discomfort before we knew anything was wrong with him.  It's easy to be too self-critical as a mother, when some things are just out of our control. The important thing is to know that now our babies are strong and healthy and beautiful.  

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The story of Levi's delivery is pretty uneventful, especially in a blog series about the NICU, so I'll make the first part brief. I didn't know I was in labor until I went to my OB for my regular check-up and she informed me that I was 5 cm dilated. It was 11 days before  my due date, so I was surprised but relieved because the doctors were predicting that Levi would be 10+ pounds. My OB told me that I had time to drive home and get my bag (which was packed, thank God!) and pick up my husband, Dave, from work. If Dave were telling this story, he'd be sure to mention that I was doing household chores and stopping for coffee before we went in to Labor and Delivery. I was not going to labor with a caffeine headache! Once we got to the hospital, we watched How I Met Your Mother and Arrested Development on Netflix and my friend Elizabeth came over to bring us food and moral support. I distinctly remember thinking that labor was boring, until, of course, it stopped being boring. Then I neglected all my ideologies about natural birth and got an epidural. Women who give birth without drugs are probably superhuman, but I was happy and telling stories between pushes. All said and done, I labored for about 24 hours and pushed for 25 minutes before I met my beautiful baby boy. Levi Muir was 8 lbs, 6.6 oz (way less than was predicted!) and absolutely perfect!

I was eager to try and nurse him as soon as possible, but he had his little mouth clenched shut and his eyes squeezed closed. In hindsight, that was the first sign that something was wrong, but I had read that babies don't always nurse easily right away and the nurse assured me we'd try again after some skin-to-skin time. Eventually they moved Levi and I out of the room in which I delivered into another room. That's standard, but I still don't understand why. When we got to our new room, some nurses came in to check on us. One of them was a respiratory specialist and looked at my purple, grunting baby and asked how long ago he was born. Apparently he should have gotten the hang of breathing by that point. Before I knew it, there was a flurry of activity in our room. It still brings on pangs of guilt to think about the nurses and specialists crowded around Levi because I was too exhausted to be paying much attention. They took Levi down to the NICU and my husband accompanied him while I dozed in and out of sleep. We were supposed to Skype with my parents that evening and it barely occurred to me that Levi might not be back before our conversation.

As I reflect back, it seems like the uncertain waiting was the hardest part of this ordeal. They determined that something was going on with his lungs and the NICU manager came in to give us a free parking pass for the hospital ramp that was good for two weeks. TWO WEEKS?! There wasn't a chance we'd have to wait that long to bring him home! Then we learned there was fluid in his lungs and they were going to give him rounds of antibiotics for the next 7 days. I thought if I could just make it through those days, this all would be over. But, NICU staff seem to be notoriously tight-lipped about giving a timeframe and ours just got longer and longer.

At first Levi was sedated because he was a big, strong boy and they were afraid he might pop a lung if he cried too much. We also weren't allowed to hold him for days. It was excruciating to see our boy all drugged and sleepy, and all I could do was touch him with my hands and whisper to him. It's hard to look at my big, lively, wide-eyed boy and remember that sad, sleepy baby. We rarely even saw his eyes open the first few days of his life. His blood oxygen levels were low, so he was hooked up to a CPAP for oxygen, a pick line for IV fluids and lipids, a gavache tube in his mouth, he had an umbilical line so they could draw blood easily, and heart rate monitors. After I was discharged from the hospital Dave went back to work so he could save his vacation time for Levi's homecoming. So, I'd get up every morning and try to take care of my tired, post-partum body and rush into the hospital as fast as I could get there. I'd spend all day standing by Levi's little plexi-glass box and pumping breast milk on the monotonous schedule of a NICU mom. I'd agonize over how much oxygen was flowing through that CPAP, desperate to see it drop from 100% to 26% - room oxygen level. When Dave got off work, I'd go to pick him up, we'd grab some dinner and head back to the hospital until about 11:00. I'd cry every time we left sweet Levi alone for the night. It felt so wrong to leave him there alone. One night I sobbed and told Dave how it just didn't make sense to be away from my baby; he'd been a part of my body for as long as he'd existed and now I was without him. A mom without her baby is the most unnatural thing in the world.

Once Levi's 7 days of antibiotics were done, Dave and I felt confident that he was coming home soon. But the hospital was slow to wean him from IV fluids to milk. Soon agonizing over the CPAP oxygen level was replaced by agonizing over the level of IV fluids as compared to his milk feedings. As any grace-filled Christian should, I'd curse the doctors' names who gave my baby meager milk feedings and then watched the hungry boy fuss and suck his pacifier for the next 2.5 hours. I'd curse their names as they adjusted their timelines for Levi's hospital stay to be longer and longer. I cursed their names when I had to ask for my 2 week parking pass to be renewed. And every once in awhile, at my best moments or the times God felt near, I'd thank God for those stupid, slow doctors who were working so hard to ensure I brought home a healthy baby.

Exactly one week before Levi was discharged, I spiked a fever of 103.7 during the night accompanied by chills that left me shivering under multiple down blankets even though it was a 100-degree July in Los Angeles. The next day, Dave rushed me to urgent care and I cried and begged him to just drop me off so Levi didn't have to be alone. I felt like he expected us to come and the thought of him waiting with the nurses made me so sad. Long story short: I spent a long day in urgent care alone, had a hard-to-diagnose case of mastitis, and couldn't go to the NICU for two days. Mostly, it was my body starting to give out under the stress.

In that last week, we watched the machines used less and turned off. Levi steadily switched from gavache tube feedings to eating orally. He started smiling at the nurses and Dave and I. Finally, FINALLY, 19 days after he was born we got to bring him home.

We are so blessed that he's grown to be big, strong and happy. Even though it's only been 8 months, our NICU days seem like a distant memory. Levi is army crawling around our house like a mad man and pulling himself up on anything he can reach. He's outgoing and social, ticklish everywhere, and smiles all the time. We keep pictures of those NICU days on display at our house; it feels disingenuous to try to forget the pain, but ungrateful not to admire the progress.