18 Weeks

18 weeks

Annie is doing all sorts of fun new things now. Who knew than so much fun would come with an only $11,000 bill? (Yes, that was the actual amount pre-insurance for the hospital stay. And that doesn't even include the doctor's visits or pediatrician or NICU stay!) What is crazier than that bill is that in 25 years when Annie has babies (or whenever) it will seem like pocket change probably. Or maybe we will have a healthcare system that works by then. (Don't get me started...) Annie is doing better and better with tummy time because she loves Cubbie so much! I just park her right in front of the dog and throw the ball while Annie cackles and squeals through her hated tummy time. MUCH better. Annie loves to sit in front of the mirror and admire/laugh at the beautiful, talented, and hilarious baby staring back at her. Annie is definitely crossing over into the oral-fixation stage. Anything she sees goes straight into her mouth. (Even when she sees Cubbie, she chases her with her mouth first and when she can't reach her, THEN she grabs a handful of fur.) It is a daily frustration for her that she can't reach the giraffe on her exersaucer with her mouth. She is in the 84th % for her height and 75% for her weight as of her four month appointment. Now that I have cut out milk and eggs, Annie is happy and tummy-ache free now which is SUCH a blessing!

I decided Annie might do better with a little more routine in her life, which is easier said than done when you work two 12's a week. Even though I only work 2/3 of the hours I used to(at my other job anyway), one day she was waking up really early to go to the sitter's and the next day she was sleeping in until 9:30. As any adult knows who works a weird schedule like nurses do, sleep schedules get thrown off quite a bit when you swing the time you are waking up by 4 hours from one day to the next. So the goal was to shoot for a time that was in between when I have to get up on work days (around 5am) and when I naturally wake up on non-work days (around 8:30). It turns out there is a book written on every opinion on how to put a baby to sleep, ranging from letting her do whatever she wants whenever she wants to putting her down and letting her scream until she falls asleep from exhaustion so many days in a row that she gets used to sleeping during those times. And then there is everything in between as well.

I have opted for the mommy-knows-best method (this week). Sometimes, I put her to sleep and let her cry until she falls asleep, but it has to be the right moment. Her cry can't be passionate or angry; it must gusto and be sort of lazy sounding or this method will not work without a projectile vomit, which leads to changing sheets, a bath, and a very awake, very angry baby. Other times (my favorite times) I just rock her to sleep while singing and when she is mostly asleep, I put her down to let her fall the rest of the way asleep. Those times are few and far between now, as she is getting a bit of an independent streak and doesn't like to cuddle as much. Many times, she falls asleep nursing (especially at night) and then I lay her down. She had to sleep in her carseat for a long time because of her acid reflux and now I am also trying to transition her into the crib, in hopes that she can fall asleep in the pack n play at the sitter's house.

The sleeping issue is harder than I thought it would be. I want to do what is best for her and there really isn't a book titled, "Annie Purse's individualized sleeping prescription". So this is where the hypocrisy begins: I stay up too late reading books that tell me how to make her go to sleep early. Ha. She honestly hasn't ever been a "bad" sleeper. She started sleeping through the night at 11 weeks and whenever she wakes up at night, it is to get a 10 minute feeding and she goes straight back to bed. That is about the same amount of interruption I had from peeing at night while I was pregnant so I am pretty used to that a year later. It has been a year since I have had uninterrupted sleep. That is crazy. And I wouldn't trade Annie for good sleep in a million years.

Work is getting much easier in the sense that I can leave her and feel ok about it. I know she is in good hands and it is good to have conversation every now and then that doesn't involve saying, "la la la la !" or "Did you have a poopy?" or "Do you want some milk?". Bodily functions never were so fascinating... Not that I wouldn't take staying at home in a heartbeat, but this is not an option since we have not yet found a bonsai money tree (which my Aunt Shelley claims to have in her back yard) and healthcare is not optional unless you have a spare $12,000 laying around for the next one! (NO I am NOT pregnant)

On that note, I need to go engage in the masochistic activity known as the 30-day-shred. It does feel better to be working out again, but man. That Jillian is the devil! Until next time...

Time is flying

It is crazy to me to think that Annie is four months old today. Also crazy to think that the summer is more than half over! (Ok, maybe not technically, but I go by the June-July-August schedule!) Everyone told me she would grow up "so fast" but I can't believe it is actually happening that way! I want to freeze time and just sit in one moment long enough to absorb it well.

I was at the hospital for a few hours with a friend and her husband(who was getting an emergency appendectomy) with Annie and she had a first--she grabbed her foot and stuck it in her mouth. I thought this was exceedingly adorable and was thinking all kinds of crazy thoughts like, "Dang, where is my camera?" and "I need to write this down! It's like a milestone or something!" and "Lucky friends! They got to see a first!". Are all mothers this crazy? My friends, who don't have children yet, were probably thinking, "Katie. It is a foot in her mouth. Not only is that gross, but she will do that 800 more times in the next year!" No, actually, they were probably thinking, "I wonder what it is going to be like to have my appendix removed." Anyway, I think Annie provided some distraction (in a good way I hope) and helped with easing the tension a bit.

Everyone was right. Work is getting easier. I think it helps that we have figured out part, if not all, of the allergy situation because she isn't upset all the time. What is frustrating though, is that I am 11 days into no milk and no eggs and Annie has had some tummy troubles for 3 or 4 days now that do not appear to be related to allergies at all. (I'll spare you the poopy-diaper details...)But we're not sure. So, if this continues another week, we will remove soy from my diet. (Which is in EVERYTHING in case you were wondering). I think someday I will be happy going to work full time again, but for now I am loving my days off and dreaming about them on my days at work. If I have to work, I do the job I love, but man. There is nothing better than a foot in the mouth and blowing raspberries with my favorite little munchkin.

Food for thought

My uncle came to visit Annie in the middle of my 2-week fast on milk products and eggs. He is lactose intolerant and said to me, "well I never could figure out why some doctor thought that giving cow's milk to baby humans was a good idea. Cow's milk is for baby cows!" It is a weird thing... people are the only mammals who continue to drink milk after they are weaned from their mothers. It is even weirder that we want some other creature's intended-for-baby-milk as adults. I mean, this other-animal's-baby-milk even gets its own food group! What is that?

Weird as it is, my taste buds LOVE me some cow's milk! As an avid cheese-chocolate-yogurt-ice cream fan, I am sorely missing my beloved moo moo. Especially now, when I feel as though I relate quite well with the animal. Last week I added back eggs to Annie's diet and quickly discovered a red rash on her face, diaper area, and had messy stools and screaming fits. So, went back to the no-eggs, no-milk diet until the rashes and messy diapers went away. Then, I drank a glass of organic skim milk (hoping secretly that it was something we add to the milk and not the milk itself). And welcome back rash, screaming fits, and bad diapers. So, it seems that until sometime next spring, I am off of milk and eggs. I have swapped out noodles for rice (not because the noodles themselves are bad but because I almost always add some kind of dairy to my noodles), and we eat a lot of chicken and ground turkey and do lots of grilling. Luckily, I can eat many veggies without bothering Annie's stomach. I have also tried chocolate soy-milk, chocolate almond-milk, and soy ice cream. So far the soy-milk is ok, but not delicious. The Almond milk tastes like dessert! MMM! The ice cream needs a little help in the form of peanut butter, and then it's ok too. I am trying to figure out if almond milk would make good ice cream! I have an ice cream maker and am considering giving it a whirl. Soy cheese is not so delicious. It is edible, but tastes a little like fat-free cheese (if you've ever tried melting that, it doesn't so much melt. Grossy.) So I am thinking that taking the cheese off the pizza might be my best bet there for a while. Today I tried goat cheese. Not the same. Tastes a lot like cream cheese.

All of this food experimentation has made me think a lot about food itself though. I think I like food like druggies like crack. Yeah, I think food was intended to be enjoyed to a point. However, I think I over-enjoy it; as evidenced by my over-missing it! I have plenty of options left in the remaining food groups to have all that I need to satisfy my nutritional requirements. And yet, it seems like ice cream should be a requirement for summer at least! Luckily, chocolate in small amounts doesn't seem to bother her, so at least there is that. I wonder if this break from foods I like will help teach me a lesson about over-indulgence. Although, I have a feeling my control with this drug-of-choice will fluctuate over my lifetime. Food means so much more than just food to so many of us. It shows up on a bad day, on an especially good day, at family reunions, gatherings with friends, colts games, and sometimes when we are just plain bored. Oddly enough, the people on commercials who tempt us with a big mac (which I think is disgusting by the way) and large fry are 95 pounds and 5 foot 8. And I bet they didn't swallow the french fry they were taped putting in their mouths, while laughing and looking super sexy. And you know you go to McD's in high heals with your hair all done up! I guess it wouldn't sell very many chicken nuggets though to see a 100 pound 5-year-old wearing dirty clothes with no shoes on.

In other news, my friend Cara donated her old over-the-door bouncy seat to us way back when Annie was a newborn. We whipped it out this week and WOW does she love it! Which leads us to another "trick" she performs a little more than I'd like: high pitched, earth shattering, ear-drum-exploding squeals "of delight". Annie, when she is bouncing or conversing with her stuffed animals or slapping around her rattle toys, loves to squint her eyes shut, brace her body, and throw out a long and tormenting squeal to express her happiness. So I wonder, does she think this is how Michael and I communicate since we take it up an octave when we talk to her? Is my singing really that bad? Will she grow out of this? Because believe me, church is out of the question right now. I'll be watching the sermon from the breast-feeding room until she outgrows this one for sure! I posted this short video of her trying to eat the toys attached to her bouncy seat.

God and Babies

That might seem like a weird title for a blog entry. And this might seem like a weird picture to add to it, but it seemed like a great excuse to add a picture of Annie helping mommy make brownies! But anyway, I would say the most profound thing (depending on what you believe I guess...) about having Annie has been how it affected my relationship with God. I felt like getting married rocked my boat a lot and made me dependent on God to learn how to live with and love another person well in the midst of my own selfishness. Afterall, let's face it. One of the hardest parts of being married is saying "no" to the question, "Is it really worth the pain and suffering I can cause my spouse to get what I want?". I mean, we all want to be right, win the argument, have the dinner we wanted, keep the house clean the "right" way, go on the "more fun" vacation, etc. Even more deeply, we want to be loved how we want to be loved, and we want our spouses to perceive that they are loved how we feel like showing it. And we certainly don't want to show them respect or love when it feels like they didn't show it first! And so begins an ugly cycle of sin and selfishness and the beautiful process of God restoring us to His image one painful step at a time.

So, yes. Just being married made me more dependent on God in many ways. But having a baby... that has been 10x more powerful to me. I was just sharing with a friend who is thinking about trying to get pregnant and shared with me that she is afraid of miscarriage that it seems for those of us who like to plan (and therefor tend to worry), that pregnancy begins the cycle of letting your child go. I told her that it seems that some people-- the lucky and few who are laid back, don't struggle with letting their child go until kindergarten. Or maybe even graduation. Or maybe even a wedding, or all of the above. For me, it started with conception. During my pregnancy, four of my friends found out they were pregnant. Two of the four miscarried and it was just gut wrenching for them both and for me as I continued to grow and they continued to ache. I work in labor and delivery, and just about every month, we would have a woman come in to our unit who was my exact gestation (or within a few days of it) who was miscarrying. The census board at our unit lights those rooms up a different color so no one accidentally increases their pain by asking how the baby is or something, and so these reminders of how quickly pregnancy can end were constantly in my face and in a color that stuck out like a sore thumb. It was during that time that I decided I could not waste another second of this precious time worrying about what hadn't happened (even though it still could).

Yes, I could tell myself that most pregnancies don't miscarry. I could fill my mind with certain dates where I could be more sure it wouldn't happen. I could count on the odds and listen to her heartbeat more often than was necessary. I could look for signs on the ultrasound that reassured me at my appointments and listen to my doctor say, "everything looks good!". But that didn't help. What really helped was realizing this: God gave me this pregnancy, and God will sustain it if that is in His perfect plan for me, and He will not if it isn't. I don't claim to know what it is like to lose a child and I shudder to think about such a horror. But for me, getting through pregnancy meant that I had to let go of her right from the beginning. God held Annie in His arms and His love long before I held her in mine. God knows what I can handle and promises not to give me more than that. God can love her and give her what she needs more than I ever can. So, I made a decision to cherish every kick and every turn and to trust God that I was meant to feel those and I might or might not feel more than that.

Then, after doing everything "right" as far as was in my control, Annie ended up having a bad labor at the end. Turns out she had a short umbilical cord and I had a raging infection that was masked because I didn't get a very high fever from it. She delivered anyway, and after a brief stint in the NICU, she came back to me and stayed in my room. I spent my first night as a mother worried sick about my sweet baby, who was breathing fast as she slept right next to me, and cooing rhythmically as she tried to breathe. I wanted so badly to shut my burning eyes and sleep for the first time in two days, but I could not stop staring at her. So, once again, I had to stop and give her up. I had to trust that God would care for my baby and He would care for me. I could do what was in my power to do to keep her healthy and the rest was up to Him.

I wish I could say that after all of this thought and praying that I am now worry-free and completely centered on the truth of God's control and love for me. However, I find that every time something doesn't go how I planned it, I struggle again and must again turn to the Bible to concentrate on a verse that reminds me of what I believe God to be and to do. Now I guess I understand the Old Testament (and the New for that matter)a little bit better. I read about the "idiot Isrealites" who have been shown time and again God's faithfulness and time and again start praying to a carved rock or a piece of gold just to "be sure" they have their bases covered. Then, in a moment of clarity and humility, I declare a solid-Homer-Simpson "Doh!" as I think about all of the ways I have been shown God's faithfulness and I fall back into doubt every 5 minutes.

Annie is an amazing creation who reminds me daily of my need for a God who is gracious to help me raise her the right way. Because MAN I could be a TOTAL nut trying to grasp for control of her little life to keep bad things from happening. I mean, I'm not saying rules or structure or being educated on how to care for her are bad things by any means. And given the opportunity, I am prone to try and think of ways to control the entire Universe so that nothing unpredictable or remotely bad could ever happen! (What an arrogant thing to think-- that if I controlled it all it would be better! Probably not. Definitely not.) I think God gave us brains for a good reason and we ought to use them from time to time ;o). However, I could decide that Annie can't step out of the front door because she could get hit by a car. Or I could decide to deprive her of friends because she could catch a cold from them or (God forbid!) use her little brain to come up with ideas of her own!

I thank God for Annie every day and for all that I have already learned in this short time with her so far. Every moment is such a gift, uniquely designed for both of us. I believe that God allows me to worry so that I will allow myself to depend on Him more. I think He wants ALL of me. He is jealous for my time and my mind and my heart to be concentrated on Him only. Children take us there. Marriage takes us there. On the same token, being denied either takes us there too. I guess being on my knees isn't such a bad place to be after all...

July 4th

Annie had a busy first 4th of July! I ended up getting the entire day off for low census at the hospital which made me SO unbelievably happy! We spent the morning with Michael and Cubbie playing in the house and being thankful that we could spend a holiday together! That afternoon, we were surprised with a visit from Grandma Purse and Great Grandma Purse! They brought us some nice treats and some cute new outfits for Annie. Poor Annie... I thought she was going to have to go naked for a while there. ;o)

Michael grilled some amazing chicken on the charcoal grill that afternoon. After dinner, Annie got to go for her first swim! She got to sport her patriotic two-piece (the first and last the Michael will let her wear I think...). She tolerated it. She did do a lot of kicking around in the water, however I'm not sure that she knew what was going on with the the "giant bath tub". But we had a blast! She only got to stay in for about 15 minutes because it will still a smoking hot 88 degrees at 7pm. Since the bugs here are man-eating and to protect her ears, we did not partake in the fireworks this year, but hope to next time!

Annie is still enjoying blowing her spit all over everyone in the near vicinity (the cute term for this is blowing raspberries, something we can thank Grandpa Shields for showing her!). She loves to do high-pitched squeals and laugh out loud at that silly brown hairy thing with a tail (AKA Cubbie). I am having trouble willing myself to make her do her tummy time since she wails about 3 minutes into it. However, I am fairly certain she isn't going to learn how to crawl in her bouncy seat or on my lap, so it's time to buck up and let her cry a little I think.

Work is supposed to be getting easier for me. That is what I'm told. :o) However, I still feel like I am abandoning her when I leave in the morning and even tho

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h it is just twice a week, it is miserable to just walk away from her! I can only imagine how this will multiply when I work her first Christmas... but such is life and as long as we do health insurance this way, such it will still be! On the other hand, I have never been happier in my life with so little. I don't care if I have nice clothes, or if we can eat somewhere nice once a month. I don't care if it's raining or if it's nice or if my house is a wreck (which is a big deal for me to not care about, just ask Michael!) I feel SO blessed happy and contented just to be with my daughter and my husband. Anywhere. Doing anything. Who knew life could be so rich and full... Happy 4th of July! Here's to hoping your holiday was full of reasons to be thankful to live in a free country!