The Truth & The Nipple Nazis

I've given a lot of thought about the purpose I had in mind when I started my blog. I was on the verge of getting married - I was planning a wedding and quite disturbed about the amount of chaotic stress from the mere planning of a joyous event. Since starting this blog, I have had numerous friends and acquaintances tell me how much they appreciate(d) my honest perspectives on wedding planning and marriage in general. So, I kept it going, and now that I have a child in my family, there's so much to write about, so much to be completely honest about. However, some of these topics are so very personal and quite controversial that I'm bound to upset someone (including myself) for being so honest, forthcoming, and daring. After talking with some close coworkers of mine who came to visit Banner one day, I decided I'm not being true to myself if I don't come out with the honest perspectives of parenting, mothering, nurturing my marriage, and taking care of myself. Therefore, I'm not going to stop with my ranting, raving, venting, pondering, questioning, discussing, and complaining. Again, I wouldn't be true to my original purpose if I only shared the (many!) positive aspects of my experiences with my marriage and family, so I'll be honest and say what so many women feel/think/experience whether it's good, bad, or ugly!

With that, I'll "share out" (Sam makes fun of us teachers who use this phrase) about my experiences with nursing and the "Nipple Nazis."

I knew when I had children that I'd want to breastfeed. I never understood why women would not even try to give this natural act a shot when it so clearly is best for babies and great for bonding. It's financially beneficial, as well. There are so many advantages to nursing - from less dishes to clean after a feeding to being able to have your milk wherever you go. I loved knowing that I would continue to be "tied" to my baby for a longer period of time after pregnancy ended. Feeling this way, I looked into classes at my hospital on breastfeeding. Sam agreed that this was the best for our baby, and he gladly attended the class with me. We learned a lot, but we knew that 75% of breastfeeding knowledge wouldn't really come until we had a baby at the breast trying to get food from me. The class did teach us, however, about the many benefits of breastfeeding, proper latching, helpful holds, and tools for more comfortable nursing sessions. We left the class feeling empowered with knowledge to get Banner started on the right track and knowing that breast milk would be the best for our baby. We couldn't wait for that first skin-to-skin bonding that would lead to successful breastfeeding like we were told about in class and in books we had read.

And, that's where our positive story ends.

Moments after having Banner's naked body against my bare chest, the nursery nurse tried to help me get Banner to nurse. Still shaking from after surgery and more tired than I think I've ever felt in my life (yes, even more than I am right now), I was in a daze and felt overwhelmed that my little boy was here already! I still remember feeling like it was a dream, so I kind of think I wasn't emotionally ready to get him to latch on to my breast at that point. I wish the nurse had let me wait even 10 more minutes. Because, lo and behold, my "first time at the breast" fantasy was completely destroyed when Banner wouldn't have any of this boob nonsense. We had been told that the baby would naturally find my breast and start suckling. This did not happen, and looking back, I feel like Banner and I were forced into a process that should have been more organic. Sam and I have reflected on this one moment over and over again. We don't think this one experience could make or break nursing success, but we feel it definitely could have gone more smoothly and might have changed my own outlook. From that moment, I know I started to get more tense about the entire idea of nursing, knowing that maybe it wouldn't be as easy as I thought (even though I knew it wouldn't be easy and there would be times I'd be frustrated).

In the hours that followed, we continued to try to get Banner to nurse. He just wouldn't latch on. We tried and tried, and we had nurses to help us, but my baby just wasn't figuring it out. I felt like it was my fault that I couldn't get him to latch properly, that there must be something I was doing wrong - maybe I wasn't holding him the right way, maybe I was too tense, maybe there was something wrong with my anatomy, maybe this or that... the list went on and on. Without any success, we asked to speak with a lactation consultant. Early the next morning after Banner was born, we met with a woman who seemed to be patient and calm while she explained more about breastfeeding and taught us things we already really knew. She then examined Banner's mouth and sucking reflexes; she found that he had a very high palate and a very strong suck. Next, she examined my breasts and noticed that my nipples were not exactly a good match for Banner's high palate. This was the first time I've ever been made to feel that there is something wrong with my breasts; they were inadequate for feeding my child. The main purpose of my breasts is to provide food for my baby, and they were not easily going to meet that need! So, we tried gadgets and tricks to get Banner to latch on - nipple shields, nipple shells, supplemental nursing systems (SNS), even finger sucking so that Banner could learn to adjust his mouth properly.

We discussed how we would supplement with formula until my milk was in higher supply, what would happen if Banner wouldn't latch with more practice, and how to start pumping. The next day, the same consultant came back with a student of hers. She wanted to see if we'd made any more improvements, so what followed was a lot of me trying to show her what I've tried, more coaching, getting Sam more involved in the process, and finally - a complete and full-blown meltdown on my part. My baby would scream in frustration every time I tried to get him to latch. I was so overwhelmed with frustration of my own from these women trying to help without success, from them pushing my baby's head into my chest again and again, from them directing and instructing while my baby cried incessantly. I was feeling like a total failure - my nipples were inadequate, my breasts were hurting, my baby was so unhappy, and my dream was fizzling quickly. Tears just streamed down my face as I was completely exhausted, beyond emotional, and still in lots of pain from my surgery. We were having to give Banner formula to feed him, and this was NOT a part of my plan!! I continued to pump without seeing anything come out! It was during this sobbing meltdown that my lactation consultant tried to make me feel better by telling me that I was doing everything right; it was Banner who needed to learn to work harder. Wait, what?? Banner needs to learn to work harder? He's just over 24 hours old at this point, and she's saying HE has the problem? I didn't buy it. Never, though, did she say, "Amber, this is just not going to work for you and Banner. You aren't going to be able to nurse. Some women just can't do it, but I'm proud of you for trying." I really wish those lactation consultants would mention that - just be honest and say this may not work for some people. Soon after I calmed down, the ladies quickly left my room. I felt badly for the student who had to witness my meltdown, but, then again, welcome to lactation!

I refused to give up, but with sores on my nipples, we decided to take some time off from trying to latch so my breasts could heal. In the meantime, we were finger feeding Banner and I was pumping. Three more lactation consultants would meet with us in the coming days. Every nursery nurse and each of my nurses would try to help me with feeding Banner as well. The best story was when one nursery nurse came to check in one morning. (I should also mention that every time we had a visit from any nurse or doctor, they asked if nursing was going any better. I was SO tired of this question as the answer was always NO! My own OB even let me stay in the hospital one more day, partially in the hopes that I could get continued help with breastfeeding. I felt like I was the failure on the postpartum floor that everyone knew about!) Well, this one particular nurse offered to help, and my response to her was literally this: "I'm going to tell you what I just told my husband. I am really sick and tired of everyone trying to help me without any success. The problem is that the baby has a strong suck, a high palate, and he won't latch. My nipples are inadequate, and I don't have any milk yet. I have worked with every nurse and 3 lactation consultants, and everyone comes to the same conclusion - that this is not working. So, I am very frustrated, but I'm willing to hear what suggestions you have." The woman was quiet and patient as she said, "I understand. Let's just see what's going on here." I knew what would happen - the same thing that happened with every other nurse/consultant. I would have to prove to her that things were not going well no matter what I tried. Sure enough, that's what happened, as she got to see for herself that Banner and I were not a good feeding match. As tears streamed down my face yet again and Sam tried to console me, the nurse said the first comforting thing we had heard, "You know what? This isn't working. You're a patient, too, and this isn't fair to you." I felt so human again just hearing those words. Sam really appreciated these words, too. In fact, the next day, we all (nurse included) teared up as Sam thanked her for what she had said earlier, as he told her that she was the first person to recognize that I was also a patient.

This nurse was significantly different from another nursery nurse we had on our last night in the hospital. Oh, she was obnoxious! At 2:00am, as I started to pump and Sam began to finger feed Banner, she asked if I had tried a nipple shield. I told we had tried a few times and that it had not worked. She insisted that I should try a shield. I told her I had (yes, again). She said something like, "You really should try that, it could really help him latch on," to which I replied in a short, overly tired tone, "FINE! I will try that again for the fifth time and see if it works again!" ... She quickly left the room. :)

Even my daytime nurse was extremely insensitive and unwilling to hear what I was saying. She would ask me each day if breastfeeding was going better, and I'd tell her no. She would say, "You should just give him the colostrum that you're pumping." No shit, Sherlock! If I had anything coming out, I'd give it to him! And, if that would solve the problem, we'd all be much happier, but it just wasn't happening! One morning, she even said, "You are not as weepy today!" Screw you, lady - you work on the postpartum floor! Thanks for making me feel like I'm the only new mother who can't stop crying! What's that they say about hormones after childbirth (especially a childbirth that didn't go your way)? Oh, yeah, that it makes you moody and you can get the "baby blues." Had she not heard of this phenomenon? Yes, I was so happy to meet my baby and I was beyond grateful that he was healthy and strong, but the whole breastfeeding thing was truly upsetting. I told my family and friends in looking back over the whole thing that my feelings were completely justifiable, and I knew exactly why I was upset each time I cried; however, under other circumstances where my hormones weren't completely out of whack, I just wouldn't have cried about these things. The tears seemed uncontrollable due to my frustration and that of my baby's.

I know this is a really long post, so if you're still reading, I'll try to wrap it up. The next few days at home brought more frustration - we visited the pediatrician who wrote a prescription to go see the lactation consultant again. We went back to the hospital, seemed to have some success that day, but once at home, no such luck. I continued pumping, and by now Banner was getting a bottle of formula after any colostrum (and later, mature milk) that I could pump out. There were a couple days where my mom and/or Sam would help scrape off any colostrum that would drip out with a liquid medicine cup. There were times I'd try to get Banner to latch and again re-frustrate both of us with the failed attempt. We tried the Boppy, My Brest Friend, every nursing hold there is, and every tool for helping moms breastfeed. You name it, we tried it - including the herb, Fenugreek, to try to increase my milk supply. I finally was able to pump about 2 ounces out of one breast (lo and behold, my "more inadequate" breast!) that we could give Banner at almost every feeding. Until one day, I developed blisters on that breast - the one I got the most milk from. Due to pain, I had to stop pumping, and the other side just wasn't getting more than a few milliliters.

It was that day, two weeks after Banner was born, that I made the most difficult decision to stop pumping. Latching wasn't working, he was already getting a lot of formula, and I was in a lot of pain. I cried and cried over this decision, feeling defeated and upset! I felt like I had this magical substance that I could give to my baby that I was withholding from him while giving him formula, which we are made to think is some kind of poison. My mother, a breast cancer survivor who had undergone a double mastectomy, embraced me as I cried - telling her that I never take my breasts for granted, and the one thing they were meant to do - they just aren't doing! I felt guilty and sad about my decision, but in the end, Banner and I needed to be happy, and our family is doing better without the frustrations over and over again.

Days later, I went to my OB for a post-op check-up. They asked if I was bottle or breastfeeding, and when I said bottle, I felt guilty. The nurse told me that 95% of their patients do NOT breastfeed. When the doctor came in, he echoed this statistic, and he told me that if it's not going well, why bother? Why put myself through this frustration? He said he's seen marriages dissolve over this issue. When I mentioned how the lactation consultants seem to make you feel so guilty for not nursing, he said that he calls them the Nipple Nazis, and no one should make you feel guilty for such a personal decision.

In looking back over everything, I just wish Sam and I were more aware of all the problems that could happen. There should have been a troubleshooting index in the book we got from our breastfeeding class. Lots of things SHOULD have happened, but it didn't. I also wish there wasn't so much guilt associated with not breastfeeding. I've decided I'll try again when I have another child, but I'll be better equipped to deal with the realities of how hard it is. I'm still dealing with the guilt. Every time I pass the nursing items at the baby stores, I get a little disappointed again. But, I'm also trying to look at the bright side: my baby has another option (formula), and my boobs don't need to be where he is all the time. I don't have to worry about special nursing clothes or hiding when I feed my baby in public. And, in leaving you with these positive thoughts, I'm sure the Nipple Nazis are already on their way to get me!

What I Know about BBJ So Far (Part 2)

Months before he was born, I posted what I knew about Banner. So many of those things I knew at that point are still true to this day, from him calming to the sound of my voice to loving music. But, I thought I'd write another list of what I know about my three week old baby at this point in his life:

• Banner loves water. He loves the sound of it, loves feeling it against his skin, and loves to try to lick it when it touches his lips. He especially loves the feeling of it on his head, as he calms quickly when I shampoo his hair.


• He knows well about "the witching hour," when many babies are cranky and fussy. He joins right in with the rest of those babies, wreaking havoc in my house from about 4:00-7:00pm or so. Some days, we're blessed with only those hours of frustration; other days, Daddy comes home to a long night of fussiness. We're hoping these fussy evenings are going to quickly be a thing of the past, but from what I've read and heard, this may not pass as quickly as we'd like.


• Banner loves to eat! He's a fast, mighty sucker, and he loves to chow down on his milk! He often gobbles it up faster than we'd like, so we have to stop him frequently during feedings to get him to take more time. This scarfing of food often has great consequences for us and everything around us - clothing, furniture, and Banner of course. He spits up a little too much in my opinion. I'm not convinced he doesn't have reflux, but helping him to calm his eating will definitely be helpful for this problem.


• He loves his mommy! He quiets more easily on my chest (which we've begun calling "baby crack" after my step-brother coined that term), and he seems to love my voice. During those witching hours when I can't quiet him any other way while waiting for Sam to relieve me just for a bit, I turn on World News, bounce on a yoga/exercise ball, and read the closed captioning so he can just hear my voice go on and on. (I also get a chance to know what's happening in the world outside my little home.)


• Banner will quiet when being read to - whether it's Sam reading Banner the Constitution most days, or whether it's Sam and I reading aloud one of our parenting books to each other. Baby Boy will try his best to listen in and conk out eventually. Sometimes Sam and I have to raise our voices over the crying to hear the parenting advice on how to stop the crying, so this must be Banner's way of telling us to keep reading. The Constitution, well, I share Banner's sentiments when he just falls asleep!


• He's extremely strong. No, I'm not just a proud mama boasting about how advanced my newborn is. He really is a very powerful boy as most who have held him will tell you. He has great head control and loves tummy time (usually). He can turn his head well, kicks his legs vigorously, and will often turn to his side during tummy time. When we went to get his newborn screening, the nurse taking his blood was impressed with his ability to practically roll over. Yes, we know this is all involuntary now, but I'm hoping he keeps up this strength so that he'll roll over on purpose more quickly because...


• Banner loves being on his tummy! Like my nephew, Caden, Banner will probably sleep much better once he can sleep on his belly. He likes a little bit of pressure on his tummy and would prefer to sleep on his side. Although we follow the rules and put him on his back, he will often turn himself to his side.


• He's probably going to be a cuddler, which I can't complain about. Again, much like Caden, Banner sleeps best when being held. Once we put him down, his quality and quantity of sleep greatly decreases. That's why I've taken to liking the Baby Bjorn so I can let him sleep while I carry him without hands in order to get ANYTHING done around the house (dishes, laundry, eating... you name it, even using the restroom!). While I LOVE holding my baby, it gets difficult to do much of anything else if my hands are constantly monopolized for his use only. I can't wait to really snuggle with him one day, though, when he can hug back!


• My little nugget still loves his hands near his face! He hates being swaddled because of this. The only way to swaddle him is with his hands out so they can touch his face. True to the sonogram photos we saw each time, Banner sleeps well with hands able to be free to reach his head. Any swaddle we've put him in - with a regular blanket, a SwaddleMe, a SleepSack Swaddle, and even the SwaddlePod - he will wiggle his hands out of in order to touch his face. I noticed this in the hospital, and I thought once we got home to our special swaddling blankets that he'd love being swaddled. Well, no, that's not the case. And, I worried about this at first, but once I looked back to the first family photo (the one taken in the operating room, which can be seen in my previous post), I saw that even then he had wiggled his hands up to his face moments after the nurses cleaned him up and swaddled him right away. Another problem with this is that he scratches his face up all the time. We have to keep mittens on him so he doesn't keep knicking his soft skin on his face, and no matter how short we keep his nails, he finds a way to dig in. It's not the length of his nails really, it's the way he claws with nail beds completely against his face. I'm working on getting him to relax his elbows a little more, in the hopes that he'll release his hands to go elsewhere, but right now, that "ain't happenin!"


• He loves motion like other babies his age. He quiets quickly in the car and loves to be rocked.


• I think he will love his older cousins. Caden, Mara, and Miles are great with him, and he likes to listen to their sweet voices. I know his smiles are not social at this point, but forgive me if I think there may be a little more to them than gas when his cousins talk to them as Banner shows a dimple when he hears their voices. So, either they make him pass gas or they have a super ability to get him to smile early on - I'd like to think it's the latter.


• As I noted in my earlier post about what I knew about him months ago, and like most babies, his most active times (seem) to be when I'm wanting to get something done - like type this post! I once said this made him quite the entertainer when I was in a meeting or conference, as I could feel him active in my belly. Yet, now, it's quite annoying, as the moment I want to relax or unwind by watching a small second of TV, by checking my email, by trying to fill out his baby book, by trying to return a friend's phone call, by having a little snack, by even contemplating taking a shower, by blogging, etc... Banner is up and active in full force wanting my attention. And, the complaints I've heard from so many other parents have come true for me too - the moment Sam and I get in bed, Banner whimpers for something. It's like he has this radar that tells him, "Mommy and Daddy want to relax; time for me to need some attention!" He could have been fast asleep for quite a while, and the second Sam and I try to enjoy a bite of dinner together, we hear Banner stirring. And, then, one of us ends up holding him, trying not to spill our dinner on Banner's head and boucing incessantly throughout the meal. "This too shall pass," we tell each other, and we hope one day we can enjoy a meal with Banner, without bouncing up and down!
  


• Lastly, he continues to reassure me just when I need it most. Just when I worry at night that he's not breathing, I'll hear him move or breathe loudly. Just when I worry he's constipated, he'll poop. Just when I ask him for a little burp, up comes that bubble. I worried his cry was weak at birth, and he's proven me wrong over and over again on a very regular (hourly?) basis. This doesn't mean I'm not constantly worried about him or worried about every little thing still, but so far he tries his best to console me.

Lots of pretty typical things for an almost one-month old baby, but I like to keep track of what's going on for Banner. My impressions of him at this point are that he's an inquisitive, deep thinker. He seems to be curious and quiet (minus the crying!) when he's most alert. I feel like I know him pretty well at this point, but I know there is so much more growing to be done, so much more to get to know about each other - and I can't wait!

Labor Day

This is a blog post that I've been putting off for a few weeks now. Mostly, it's because I'm not exactly sure where to begin, partially because it's just such a personal journey that it's hard to put into words, and a little bit because, well, there's so little time now that Banner is here, and I have no time to myself anymore. As I type, he's threatening to wake up from a nap for the second time. So, I'll get started and try to keep it as brief as possible - probably with multiple attempts at writing this post and having to return to it numerous times!

On June 6th, I had a routine appointment with my OB. I was 39 weeks and 4 days pregnant and had been seeing my doctor twice a week for several weeks after pregnancy-induced hypertension plagued my last few weeks of being pregnant. Some days my blood pressure was perfectly fine, and others it would spike to the highest end of normal. Even though it was in the "normal" range, it was high enough for my doctor to be concerned. He had continued to threaten hospitalizing me, but I continued to make deals with him - hoping to make it through the end of the school year and to several family events through the beginning of June. After weeks of "taking it easy," not only did I stay pregnant through the last day of the school year, but I got to attend our school's Awards Night, where I watched Caden and Mara receive awards and where I was surprised to be awarded Lifetime Membership by our school's PTA, I got to watch Mara graduate Kindergarten, and I got to attend my little sister's high school graduation. BBJ definitely cooperated by not coming early! Yet, by the 6th, my doctor was not as flexible with me. He wanted to induce that night, but I wanted Banner to have a few more quiet days inside my warm womb, so I made yet another deal. He said he'd hold off inducing as long as I could be monitored in the hospital. So, that afternoon, I went home to finish last minute packing, try to tidy up the house a little more, and come to terms with the fact that this would be the last time in my house without having met my son.

After Sam got home from work, we gathered up all my things and headed out for our last date night as a family of 2. After that, we headed to the hospital to be admitted. The plan was to just monitor me while on bed rest until my due date, June 9th. I would be induced that morning if BBJ didn't come before then. Cooperative as always (but at this point hoping he'd make his way on his own), Banner was staying inside, and the doctor was ready to have him out in the world. I just felt badly that I'd been hoping he could make it to his due date or later, and here we were wanting him to make an appearance earlier now. Baby was probably thinking, "Make up your mind, people!" Anyway, the hospital stay was fine up til that point - just very little sleeping since the nurses had to keep coming in to check my pressure, and who can sleep on a hospital bed anyway?

On the night of June 8th, I was moved to the Labor & Delivery wing. We had already been in two different rooms before this - one in antepartum and one in the high risk unit (although I didn't consider myself high risk). So, we were accustomed to moving at this point. Late that night, my doctor came in to insert a medicine to "ripen the cervix." Since this could have started contractions, Sam stayed the night with me that night. After my third sleepless night in the hospital, June 9th finally arrived, and still no baby. My blood pressure had been fine while in the hospital, but my doctor still thought it was too high to continue the pregnancy. So, we moved forward with inducing labor with Pitocin. Hard labor began a couple hours after, and going from nothing to hard labor that fast is NOT fun. After a few hours of more labor, the nurse and doctor were concerned that Baby's heart rate was dropping after contractions. They were worried that there was a problem with the placenta or the cord, so they gave a few more contractions to decide what to do. With no change, the doctor mentioned a C-section. Knowing I was opposed to this, he was willing to give a few more contractions to see if anything changed, but at this point, I responded, "Just do it," knowing Baby's health was at risk. The other challenge we were facing was that Banner was turned to the side, and he needed to turn forward or backward in order to avoid a C-section. Knowing both of these complications (facing wrong way and heart rate dropping), I knew a C-section was in the future anyway.

Within minutes, I was in the operating room. I was being prepped for surgery while Sam was putting on his scrubs. I'll avoid going in to detail about how emotional this was for me; I'll just say that I felt like I was on a chopping block as my doctor took the baby out of me when I wanted to deliver him into this world on my own. The surgery itself wasn't bad, just a lot of tugging and pressure. And, before we knew it, at 4:04pm, Banner Boone was being held up for us to see for the first time. He was a wrinkly, grayish looking creature with a weak cry at first. I remember squeezing Sam's hand as I waited to hear a more forceful cry, a cry we hear now very often!
As I forced my eyes to stay open and tried to ignore the deep pain running down my neck, I watched as the medical team cleaned Banner and got him to cry more fiercely. Soon, he was swaddled nice and tight for us to hold for the first time. It was very surreal, and it all happened so fast.
Moments later, Banner was leaving the operating room with Sam as the doctors finished operating on me. These agonizing moments dragged on and on, as I wanted to be with my son and my husband. I was also shaking vigorously at this point - a typical side-effect from surgery but one I didn't expect to be so painful to try to stop. I continued shaking for about an hour, but at least I was able to hold Banner back in the L&D room after surgery. When the doctor came to speak to us after a short time of peace and quiet with our baby, he explained that the baby's head was pressing up against the umbilical cord, and a C-section would have been inevitable as each contraction put Banner in distress.

In about an hour, we were taken to our postpartum room where we invited our siblings and parents to meet the baby for the first time. I let Sam do the honors introducing Banner to his extended family as they got to hear his name for the first time.

We spent four nights in the hospital after surgery. On very little sleep, we got to start bonding with Banner and trying to analyze who he looks like. Here we are 3 weeks later, and we're still doing these things! The past three weeks have been one LONG day for me, really. I can't believe it's been three weeks, when it really just feels like the day keeps going on and on. My baby boy is learning so much, growing quickly, and getting to know his new home and his parents.

I had an amazing pregnancy. I loved being pregnant, even though there are things that were hard to tolerate at times. There were a few scary moments along the way, but overall, it was one of the most miraculous, special times in my life. Given that, I felt disappointed that it ended in a C-section that I really wanted to avoid. I was extremely exhausted, after three tiring nights in the hospital prior to an induction (which I've been told is much more stressful on the body) and labor that ultimately ended in surgery. At times, I felt like it was a nightmare of an ending. I have mourned the fact that labor/delivery didn't go as I wanted, expected, planned, or hoped. In addition, I'm still recovering, and my body feels beaten up from just being so darn exhausted all the time. I guess there's a big part of me that was wanting to see what my body could do on its own - without inducing labor when Baby and Body just weren't ready yet.

However, I had two big prayers going into B-day: to have a healthy baby and to have the ability to have more children in the future. Both of those prayers were answered on June 9th, and I couldn't be happier or more grateful for these miracles. For this, I am appreciative to my doctor for making the decisions he did, because in the end, I got the best gift of my life, and I can't wait to tell you all about him! (Coming soon!)

My Baby Daddy

How do you even begin to thank the amazing man who helped you bring your baby into the world? How do you even think of a way to show gratitude and appreciation for such a gift? I am so in love with my husband for so many reasons. He is my best friend, my shoulder to cry on, my stabilizer, my comfort, my sounding board, my favorite person to hang out with. He always has been those things to me, and I pray he always will be. But, he's now a daddy, and he's such a great one! I just have no idea how to let him know how truly blessed I feel that he's in my life, that he's in our son's life, and that we have a life together.

I remember in college - when we were dating - I always imagined my life with Sam, married to him and having children with him. I remember knowing that I wanted only him next to me in the hardest moments - including the labor and delivery of each of our children. It's so hard to believe that these moments are actually coming true. It's the most amazing feeling to not only have him in my life, but to have him be a parent with me now, to know that he's part of our son, that we created such a miracle with our love and our friendship. So, how do I make sure he knows how happy I am about all of these wishes & dreams coming true?

From trying to get pregnant to feeling the nausea of morning sickness, there have been moments of pure frustration and upset. From not being able to put my socks on to tearing up at the odd pains I was experiencing, there have been moments of uncertainty and worry. From the mild, unexpected bleeding to the overwhelming concern about labor and delivery, there have been moments of fear and anxiety. Through all of these moments, Sam knew what to say and what to do. He knew how to comfort and relax me, how to hear what I was saying, how to respond appropriately, how to predict my feelings, and how to be there for me in the most gentle ways. I'm not saying he was perfect or wasn't annoyed by these feelings and/or events - he's human and he's had his own reactions. But, he's been my rock and a true friend.

During labor and delivery of our precious son, which I will review in a different blog post, Sam was gentle, supportive, encouraging, and understanding. During our hospital stay, he and I had some of the most amazing conversations we've EVER had - and that's saying a lot given how many conversations we've had in the past 15 years! He was and continues to be the most understanding husband a person could ask for - hearing what I was saying as a new mom (through postpartum tears, through recovering pains, and through new mom fears). There were times I would say things to Sam and feel like no one would possibly understand what I was thinking, and it was at those moments that he would not only empathize but share some of my same thoughts and feelings or repeat things back to me in such a therapeutic way that made me understand myself even more. It's hard to explain without giving a lot of specific details which is not for this particular post, but let's just say that he "gets" me in a way that I can't explain. I know one thing for absolute sure - I am such a lucky woman. It was through our labor/delivery adventure that I learned that not only is Sam an amazing father, but he is and always has been an amazing husband.

It's been such a blessing getting to watch Sam become a father. They (the ubiquitous "them") say that mothers become mothers on the day they find out they are pregnant, and fathers don't become fathers until they see their babies for the first time. I know that for Sam, he was a father on the day he found out about my pregnancy. He wanted to go get books that night to read up on parenting and on babies. He would purchase odds and ends during the nine months of waiting to make room for Banner in our lives. He shared my concerns and worries, he took great care of me, and he couldn't wait to meet his son! At the same time, his love and his bond with Banner has become so much more than I could have imagined starting the moment we saw BBJ born. Sam will stare at him, memorizing his every feature. He checks on him constantly, has big plans for him, and takes the best nurturing care of him. Sam was so worried about being a good father, not knowing if he'd know what to do with his newborn. He has proven to be one of the best dads I, personally, have ever seen. I am truly a lucky woman, a lucky wife, and a lucky mother.
On this first Father's Day for Sam, I want to thank him for the best gift I've ever received: our son. I also want to thank him for being an amazing father to him already. I know it seems silly to think after only 10 days that he's such a great parent already, but I just know from what I've seen in this short time, from the conversations we've had, and from the way Banner responds to his daddy that my best friend, Sam, will continue to be a great example of a human being, a phenomenal father, a model husband, and a good man that will benefit Banner on a daily basis.

Sam: Banner and I need you, want you, adore you, respect you, and love you more than you will ever know. Thank you for being by my side for more than half of my life. I can't wait to raise our son together. Happy First Father's Day!

Sweet BBJ is Finally Here!

Introducing
Banner Boone
Born June 9, 2011 at 4:04pm
6 pounds, 13 ounces
20 inches long

We are in love!

Little Time Left

At 38 weeks pregnant, I'm doing a little reflecting. I can't wait to meet my little boy, but I'm in no hurry to have him out of his safe first home and in this scary, unpredictable world. I think about him in his little cocoon right now, wondering what he might be thinking. I picture him all cozy and snuggled up tight, wondering if he wonders what's going on out here as much as I'm wondering what's going on in there! I feel his little body come to the surface of my belly, and I touch his back so gently - only a few layers of skin, fat, blood, and uterus separating us. I wonder if he's thinking, "What's that?" And, pretty soon, neither of us will have to wonder at all. How very exciting!

But, in the little time left with a bun in this oven, I am finding myself feeling a little sad, too. Just like in my previous posting about having Sam all to myself right now, here I am with this little guy inside me all to myself. As soon as he comes out, he belongs to the world - to his father, his aunts, his uncles, his cousins, his grandparents, his friends, his teachers, etc. I will have to share him with so many people. So, I'm enjoying having him all wrapped up in me, while I'm all wrapped up in him all to myself.

Call me selfish, but it's the coolest thing - as I've mentioned to Sam - having both of my guys to just me. I can't wait for them to meet each other, of course, but it's neat to know I get them both to myself right now. I know I would much rather have BBJ in my arms and not in my belly, and I can't wait to see his little face and hold his tiny hands, but I'll miss being pregnant with him. I'll miss knowing that he's in the safest place he could possibly be. He's so well protected; I know where he is at all times; no one can cough on him or spread their germs to him; he can't trip or bump his head; he's fully nourished and sleeping well; he's developing more rapidly now than he ever will later.

I also know that as soon as BBJ is born, there is no turning back! There will be no more days of childless life. No more sleeping in until noon, no more running a "quick errand" or going to a late movie at a moment's notice. No more sleeping through the night without hearing every tiny noise. No more doing what I want to do - when I want to do it. No more not worrying about the last time someone else ate or slept or peed or pooped. Even our soon-to-be pediatrician said goodbye to us after an interview a couple months ago saying to embrace this time we have left without a child - he encouraged us to go to movies and go on dates. Of course, we have done those things, and we will continue to do them even with a baby, but it certainly won't be as often or as easy an outing as before.

With the little time left before we meet our son, we are taking full advantage of our baby-less time - cleaning house, shopping for last minute baby items, grocery shopping, preparing meals to freeze, writing our wills, paying bills, writing thank you notes, spending time with friends and family, cuddling on the couch, taking in the dry cleaning, getting hair cuts and car washes, installing the monitor and the car seat, washing baby clothes and sheets, and taking care of as much as we can at work before B-Day arrives. But, I know with the little time left, there's always going to be more to do before BBJ is here. Yet, oh, how exciting that he is almost here - that there is such little time left!

Things No One Should Say to a Pregnant Woman

I love being pregnant. There's something so amazingly special about having this little baby of ours move around inside me, having him with me all the time, watching my body change in order to take good care of him, and awaiting the arrival of my son to enter the world! It really is pretty darn miraculous, and I don't ever want to come across as complaining about something I have wanted since I was a little girl. Waiting for that positive pregnancy test for months and then the grueling minutes that special day was rewarded with the fabulous outcome I had been wanting, so why would I possibly complain about being pregnant at all? The truth is, though, in addition to these excited, grateful, appreciative feelings, there ARE ailments and annoying side-effects of being pregnant. I can completely tolerate those frustrations. What is difficult, though, is the comments I hear - or my friends have heard - that just kinda get under our skin. Specifically, I'm referring to comments made by a) people we don't know at all, b) people who think they know us but don't really, c) people who think they know everything. Typically, the "bothersome-ness" of the below statements is greatly decreased or non-existent if made by best friends, sisters, mothers, a fellow pregnant lady, AND if it's said with concern or curiosity. Those people seemingly get a pass. Sorry, but that's the truth. Why is that? Well, because best friends tell you like it is anyway, sisters and mothers share common genetics so they are more curious or interested in your body as it might pertain to their own, and fellow pregnant people make themselves vulnerable to the same kinds of comments, so it's all okay.

I am not trying to sound bitter or rude in any way, but I wouldn't be true to my purpose in creating this blog if I didn't voice my honest opinions - you know, those opinions that we all really have but don't say or are too afraid to admit. So, dedicated to my original goal of starting this blog, I'm going to be completely honest and forward about what we pregnant individuals can't stand from non-pregnant people in an incomplete list entitled....

Things No One Should Say to a Pregnant Woman:

• "You're enormous!" (This one's pretty obvious to me.) Other comments in this category include: "Are you sure you're not having twins?" or "You sure are getting rounder/pudgier/bigger.")


• "You won't be able to wear THAT for much longer." (And YOU won't be able to talk much longer! No, really.... what's this comment about, anyway? I can't stand people telling me what my future holds - like how much bigger I am going to get, how I'm going to have to do things differently, or "just you wait until . . . " comments. No one knows how big I'm going to get or how difficult it's going to be. Every person's different. My experience will be different than yours, and my experience this time around will be different than my own experience next time. People have warned me about my stretch marks that are on the way, my belly button that will pop soon, and so many other things about doctor's appointments or other physical ailments. So far, they've been wrong. I know I still have 3 weeks, which is a long time at this point, but still... predicting the future is a difficult task; let's just wait and see what happens without your input.)


• "You must be having a girl. Your hips are huge/you have so much acne." (Not really a compliment, huh?)


• "Did you use fertility treatments?" (Many women will just tell you if they want you to know this. If not, it's really none of your business, nor does it matter.)


• "I feel so fat! I'm so out of shape." (You're saying this to ME?!)


• "Your boobs are huge!" (Yep! And, they're gonna get bigger... and uglier.)


• "You're still pregnant?"


• "It's way too early for you to be waddling." (Someone once said this to me and I wanted to hit her. Not only was I probably NOT waddling, but who is she to tell me when it's an appropriate or inappropriate time to walk in a way that is more comfortable for my changing gait?)


• Any horror stories about labor and delivery.


• "How much weight have you gained?"


• "Should you really be eating that?"


• "Aren't you worried about pushing that baby out of you?" (Well, NOW I am!)


• "You look miserable!" or "You look like you can't walk." (Well, growing a person inside you can take lots of hard work. What's YOUR special talent? And, at least I'll be back to "normal" after I push him out of me! )


• "It must be pregnant brain!" (No, really... it's not my hormones making me forget. You really never told me that story before... or asked me to run that errand...or asked me that question. Don't try to get away with remembering something wrong by blaming ME!)


• "You weren't trying, were you?" (I have a good friend who recently told me, about her second pregnancy, "I like to keep my sex life relatively private and having gone through this before I know that my body, medical choices and most things that were once deemed private become very public." Keep this in mind when your reaction to a second/future pregnancy seems a little too shocked.)


• "There's no way you're 8 months along; you're barely showing." (I get this one a lot, and it pisses me off. One person has told me in the same day that I look "only four months pregnant," and then later "you look about six months pregnant" when I was really 8 months. Well, which is it? People probably think they're being nice because it's not like the obviously rude "You're so big" comments, but it only makes me think the person saying it believes there is something wrong with the growth of my child. I'm becoming a mother - code for "worrier." Don't give me a reason to think you think my baby's not growing right. I'll trust my doctor to tell me that my baby and my belly are growing just fine.)
  

I realize this covers a wide variety of topics that should be off limits, and it makes it hard to know exactly what to say to a pregnant person, but I've included these items just as a "heads-up" to protect the innocent. I'm not saying that every person will find these comments offensive; in fact, there are some comments listed above that I'm not really upset by. I'm also not suggesting that pregnant people are entirely too sensitive to handle any of these statements, but you just never know how someone will interpret them, so it's best not to say them at all. Of course, many of these comments were ones I never thought anything of until I, myself, was a pregnant lady, and then I "got it." It's hard to know what goes through the mind of a person who is worried about her baby, worried about her changing body, or worried about how others view her new form without having gone through that experience. I'm sure there will be more for me to learn along the way, later in this journey. . . like the ever-popular complaint many postpartum moms hear, "When are you due?" months after their babies are born, or the comments I know many new moms get right after birth: "You still look pregnant." I'm sure those will annoy me like they annoy those other mothers - I mean, think about it... it took months to get to be this round, it's going to take just as long or longer to get remotely back to the size you were before, right?

Anyway, I just wanted to reflect on some of the interesting comments heard by so many of my friends and me. Do you have anything to add to this list? Oh, and I'd like to thank the ladies who also contributed to this post, whether they explicitly told me comments they heard or if we talked about it in various conversations. So, thank you fellow pregnant ladies: Logan, Lisa, Randi, Julie, Casey, Jenny, Kristi, Laura, and Lindsay. And, well, since this blog is entitled "Journey to the Knot" and has mostly been about marriage and family - I'll also thank my most amazing husband for helping me reflect on why these comments can be so bothersome, agreeing with me, and empathizing when he hears them, too! I love you, Sam! :)

Poor Moms, Poor Dads

"Choosy Moms Choose Jif"

"Kid tested, Mother Approved." -Kix

"Recommended by Dr. Mom" - Robitussin

"Moms depend on Kool-Aid like kids depend on Moms."

"Kid delicious. Mom nutritious." - Nestle Nesquik

Have you ever thought about how society views mothers? If you know me, you know I have - and a lot! The above ads came to me pretty quickly when I thought about how TV commercials help perpetuate the way we view parents. More than how this affects mothers, I've thought about how this affects fathers. I asked Sam the other night, after several "parenting" conversations that had come up last weekend with friends and with family, if he ever gets annoyed that most people tend to look to me when it comes to decisions about our child. It kind of annoys me, so I wondered if it annoyed him. I recognize that women are seen as the primary care-takers of their children, but should we just accept that stereotype/assumption without questioning it? The concern is definitely a feminist one - that men and women should be equals. I'm not complaining about how it makes me feel as a woman; I'm worried about how it makes our men feel as fathers.

The fact is that I want Sam to be just as active in our child's life as I am. I want him to make decisions with me; I want his input and his help; I want him to be just as involved in child-rearing and care-taking as I am. It bothers me when people assume he doesn't care or doesn't have an opinion about something. It also bothers me when people assume I DO. It's kind of the same way I felt with the wedding planning - the original reason I started this blog in the first place. I was not one of those women who had envisioned my wedding day with the minute details already planned out since I was 2 years old. I hated when the vendors would look at me (and not at Sam) with the expectation that I knew the answers to their questions when I may have never thought about what I would like/want. I desperately needed Sam to talk about what he wanted as well. It's pretty much the same thing now. . . our friends and family ask us questions and look to me for the answers - not to Sam.

The worst part is that I understand the stereotype. I work in a school with children, and when there's a problem or I need to talk to a parent, the first one I'd rather talk to is the mother. Is that because fathers, in general, are not expected to know the answers about their own children? Is that because they really aren't involved? Or, is that because I find it easier to talk to a woman? So many internal questions with this one... and, again, what's worse is that my own brother is extremely active in his kids' lives. He is with them more than their mother is. I know many dads who attend parent/teacher conferences and are more communicative than the moms are. And, I know many single dads who are raising their kids on their own, so why would I feel that I can't talk to a dad as easily as I could talk to a mom? I guess I blame society for these messages that dads just don't know what's going on with their kids or don't care - - even though I KNOW that message is not true.

I want Sam and I to be the parents who show up to the pediatrician together, who attend parent/teacher conferences together, who would know all of Baby's friends, his grades, when his next soccer game is, etc. without having to consult with each other. I don't want Sam to feel left out of decision-making when it comes to our child or our family. I just don't want everyone to assume that I'm the only one with knowledge of our child or that I'm the only one making the decisions for our kids.

During our conversation last weekend, we talked about how sexist our society is. The wedding was just as much Sam's as it was mine - and who did people look to when asking questions about what we wanted to happen at this event? Me. This baby is just as much Sam's as he is mine - and who do people look to when asking questions about how we will raise him, care for him, etc? Me. Yet, when this house belonged solely to me, and Sam was in town from school helping me with some house maintenance, we'd go to Home Depot, and who did people look to when asking questions about the house? Sam! The same is true when we were looking at buying a new car last summer. The car was for me, but who did the salesperson ask questions to when discussing preferences or payment plans? Sam!

We both decided, after this interesting conversation, that we really haven't come as far as we think we have (as a society) since the 1950s. This is a problem, in my opinion, for both moms and dads when it comes to parenting. Moms feel the pressure to know everything, to have decisions made, to be the primary care-taker. Dads feel left-out, as if they don't know or care.

I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong, but those ad slogans seem to really favor moms as the primary care-taker and decision-maker. Just watch TV commercials more closely - you might start to notice, if you haven't already, how dads are treated as additional children or non-existent in their kids' lives. Poor Moms. Poor Dads.

The Empathy and the Empathy Belly

Every Thursday in April, Sam and I participated in a Prepared Childbirth Class which took place at our hospital. Each class started with a lecture segment led by our instructor, Jessie. Then, we would watch a video of some kind, and then we would practice relaxation techniques from breathing to massage. Sam and I both learned a great deal about various topics from the stages of labor to postpartum care. We got a chance to talk to other couples, to hear about the hospital policies and procedures, and to voice our concerns and fears. We had a chance to really discuss our hopes, desires, and expectations with each other, as well. One assignment was to delegate percentages of responsibilities for various household and baby care chores after the baby is born - like who is mostly responsible for laundry, yard care, grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, feeding baby, bathing baby, house maintenance, etc. Another assignment was to discuss our fears about medical intervention with another couple in the class. During class discussion, we talked about our expectations for who we wanted to be allowed in the labor room, what should happen immediately after the baby is born, and how we wanted to handle guests at the hospital ( as well as how to share that information with our family and friends). I, personally, liked the videos we would watch. Even though they would scare the ba-jeesus out of me (and the other women as we watched women give birth and nurse their babies - both completely natural activities that looked entirely unnatural!), it was really Sam's first experience seeing anything like this. Oh, you should have seen his face - more specifically his eyes - when he'd see such sights - especially just how much of the breast goes into a baby's mouth! Too priceless! :)

I would come home from these classes with a better understanding of what we've gotten ourselves into, and I'd feel understood by the instructor, by the other women in the class, and most importantly, by Sam. Some people have told us that these classes are worthless, and that, in the heat of the moment of labor and delivery, you forget everything you've learned. Well, my response to that is that I don't really care. There's a lot I DIDN'T get out of the class; for example, I already know how I handle pain - and having Sam tell me a funny story will NOT help me in the moment, or having him touch me if I'm hot and sweaty will NOT be beneficial for either one of us. Yet, the discussions and assignments we had during these classes have, at the very least, opened up more conversation for Sam and me to understand each other better.

Throughout my pregnancy, my dealings with the medical professionals has been just that - medical. It's been very black and white, very unemotional. Our classes have allowed us to handle our emotional reactions to the medical side of being pregnant. Honestly, there have been very few emotional supports from doctors in my life during this emotionally charged time. I'm not saying they are un-feeling or not supportive, but no one has really validated my fears and concerns about sustaining pregnancy, about labor, and about delivery with words of encouragement and understanding like, "I know you're worried, but most babies are born healthy," or "I can understand your concerns, but there will be so many people to help you through this," or "I will be right there with you helping you when you're scared." Maybe it's my counseling background that makes me just wish these medical professionals would be a little more empathic to the fear and worry of this scary, new event in a woman's life.

Sam agrees with these comments, as once I have voiced them to him, he nods and mirrors my concerns. He has told me he is just as scared and worried as I am. He worries about me, and he worries about our baby. He doesn't want to see me in pain, and he wants to know what he can do to help me through it all. I'm so grateful that he seems to get it all; even if he doesn't have to be the one to go through it all personally, he certainly seems to empathize with what I'm saying and sees my perspective as best he can.

One additional way that Sam was able to see my point-of-view, even if not exactly the same way, was the Empathy Belly experience in our last class last week. I've posted some pictures below, so you can see how he was given the opportunity to wear a weighted belly and breasts to feel the cumbersome pregnant body. Most of the men in the class put the belly on, tried to pick something up off the floor, and then passed it along. I asked Sam to just experience what it's like to lay down, try to turn over, and then to get up on your own. He had quite a reaction to this experience - saying, "Oh, wow! That kinda hurts my back!" The other women in the class laughed a little, too. And, although these activities don't hurt my back like he experienced, he got to experience the awkward change in maneuvering your body a different way when you're pregnant. Sam has always been helpful, and he's been even more helpful while I've been pregnant - even more than I really need him to be. I can bend over, I can reach things, I can carry things, I can get off the couch, etc., but it's just more difficult now. So, it's nice to know that he's there to help, and now, after the Empathy Belly, he's even more understanding of just how awkward my body feels for me - without thinking I'm weak or "playing the pregnancy card."

So, whether or not others think these classes will benefit us on B-Day, they were certainly well worth it in the meantime and in helping both of us understand the process, the body, and the emotions we are both feeling. And, well, we got these great pics, too! Thanks for being such a great sport, Sam! Baby will love these pictures one day - of his mommy and daddy being "pregnant" at the same time! :)

Mourning Just "Samber"

I met Sam when I was 16. We became fast friends, and then we became best friends. We would chat endlessly on the phone when I went off to college, and we loved to spend hours on the computer "IMing" each other, getting all giddy that the other was online. I missed him so much, and there was no other guy that seemed to "get" me the way he did - so effortlessly, so naturally, so deeply. After about 2 years as best friends, we finally disclosed our true feelings for each other, admitting that when we said we loved each other, we meant it more than just as a friend. Our friends and family started calling us "Samber," a playful nickname we never really rejected.

We spent the next several years trying to figure out the best way to maintain our relationship and our friendship with many splits, breaks, and back-togethers. Through all of it, we never disrespected each other, never forgot the love and comfort we found in each other, and never fell out of love with each other. Deep down, I always knew I'd be with Sam in the end. I remember nights back in college - just knowing one day we would be married. I remember our talks about what we would name our kids. I remember looking for the right house to buy, knowing one day Sam would move in with me, and we'd share an amazing life together. I used to imagine my walk down the aisle towards him. I used to imagine having him next to me as I gave birth to our baby... knowing there was no one else I would want next to me in that difficult, scary, amazing, miraculous moment.

We were talking the other night about how all of these dreams are now a reality, and we're both feeling so blessed right now. We've said those words to each other - you know, the "Can you believe we're really having a baby together?" or the "We've been planning this for so long. What do you think those two teenagers would think?" referring to our younger selves. We've laid in bed just staring at each other, tearing up that we actually created a life that's growing inside me right then at that moment.

But, there's also a slight tinge of pain as we say goodbye to the time we have left as just Samber - just us. For about 15 years, we've invested time, energy, and emotion to just each other. We've nurtured our relationship and our friendship and have built a stable, strong bond that ties us to each other. So, it's hard to imagine that we both are going to add a tiny person into our lives that will require just as much (if not more) time, energy, and emotion on both of our parts. I know we are ADDING, not taking away, but there have been a few tearful moments when we just hug each other, recognizing our "just us" time is dwindling. Soon, we'll be so invested in this little life. We'll never lose us, and we can always have our date nights, our get-aways, our cruises and trips, but there's never going to be a time that we don't think about this baby boy. Our selfish days invested in only each other are ending, and I'm embracing the time we have left as a couple, a family of two.

I just love him. I love us. It's hard to believe that we'll be a "threesome" soon, and hopefully, we'll have more children one day. I can't wait to raise this child (and his siblings) with Sam. We're so ready for this. We're gonna make a great team. We'll spend time alone with each other - for us, and for the sake of our children. But, I want to embrace the nostalgic feeling that we're saying goodbye to those days of only dreaming about our kids. I want to be realistic, before I can't take advantage of the time, that I'm going to miss just us. We'll both have a new love soon . . . we already do! I'll have another little man in my life, so I'm giving myself plenty of time to soak up every moment when Sam's still my only love.

We have heard so many parents say things like, "I can't even remember life without my son/daughter." And, even looking back in time before my oldest nephew and niece were born, I really can't remember life without THEM, so I completely get that feeling. Knowing that, I want to remember as much as I can about those two teenagers who were best friends, completely in love, and dreaming about their futures together. I want to remember the trips they took on their own, the dates they had, the careless, selfish, silly times they enjoyed for so long before they grew up. So, as we enter the next stage of our lives, the next stage of our relationship and of our friendship, we will do so together, knowing we squeezed out every ounce of "just us" we could get!