Archive for September 2013

The long run

Monday, September 23, 2013

This past weekend, my husband and I packed up the baby and dog and headed off to the beach for a mini-vacation.  The car was so packed that you could not see out the back window.  The poor dog, who has been banished to the way back since the baby came along, had barely any room with the baby bath constantly sliding into his tiny space.  It was an experience, that's for sure.  Something that only practice could perfect.

It was our first family trip and it was nothing like I expected.  I figured that we'd be relaxing on the beach or hiking in a park, but we really didn't have much time to do that.  Neither of us realized how much time our baby normal routine would take us in a different location.  Basically, it was the same stuff we do at home with less supplies at hand.

All things aside, we did have a really nice time hanging out as a family.  The dog was in his element at the beach and was probably a little confused that he was getting some attention once again.  Hi favorite things in life are the beach, tennis balls, and carrots.  He got to experience all three of those things in mass quantities this past weekend.  A little slice of "doggy heaven" for our poor neglected son dog.  

On Friday morning, my husband, the baby, the dog and I set out for a 4 mile jog.  The weather was pristine and the path was smooth and accommodating.  We did the run at a 9 minute per mile pace, which felt slow, but the dog was really laboring.  I had to keep bribing him with the promise of carrots for the last mile.

On Saturday morning we left the dog at home so that we could accomplish something together that we have never done before.  We were going to run 12 miles with the baby in the jogger.  My husband decided to sign up for a half marathon with me later this fall, so in order to do that we need to make sure 12 miles is something that we could accomplish.  I had done 10 the previous weekend so I knew I could do it, but my husband was a little less confident.

We packed up the B.O.B. with emergency supplies: diapers, wipes, changing pad, extra clothes for B, disposable diaper bags, coconut water (for us) and power jelly beans (for us) and then headed off.

My husband and I switched off pushing the stroller every 2 miles.  The route was pretty flat and very scenic.  My husband and I chatted while we ran.  It was so nice to be doing this with him.  It can get quite lonely running by yourself for so long.  It was a nice way to connect with him without any other distractions.

Here are our split times, courtesy of MapMyRun MVP:

Mile 1- 8:53
Mile 2- 8:45
Mile 3- 8:51
Mile 4- 8:39
Mile 5- 8:43
Mile 6- 8:48
Mile 7- 8:57
Mile 8- 8:54
Mile 9- 8:37
Mile 10- 9:00
Mile 11- 8:50
Mile 12- 9:18
extra .19 miles- 8:57

Overall pace average was 8:54 minutes per mile (faster than our 4 miler!).

My husband started to fade at mile 10.  I think our mile 9 might have done him in.  I was really proud of him, though.  It was his longest run ever and he really hasn't been running a whole lot lately.  I give some credit to CrossFit here.  Had it not been for CrossFit, he never in a million years would have signed up for a half marathon and run 12 miles to train for it.  

I felt strong the entire time.  I could have gone faster and/or gone longer.  It was a really great feeling.  I actually felt proud of my body for a change.  In the past 5 months, I have gone from 167 lbs down to 120ish.  I have started running again and gone from being out of breath in less than a mile (at a snails pace) to being able to run 12 miles at a pace that is faster than most average runners can sustain AND have the handicap of a jogging stroller.  I have gone from super flabby to toned, once again.  I'm slowly getting back there.  It is just taking a lot longer than I had imagined it in my silly little head.

Speaking of jogging stroller, our little future marathoner did great for the 1 hour and 48 minutes that were were on the road.  He was up and babbling for the first 1/2 and then took a nice nap for the second half.  We didn't even use any of our emergency supplies that we brought!

I think this trip and the run were great for more reasons that one.  Even though B didn't sleep and much of our time went to his normal care-taking, we all had a really nice time.  I appreciate my husband more for deciding to run with me.  I appreciate my baby for letting us run with him.  Despite its shortcomings, I appreciate my mind and body.  They are way stronger than I give them credit for.    

Ahhhh beautiful!

share this on »

My own worst enemy

Monday, September 16, 2013

This past weekend, my husband and I decided to try the whole going out to dinner thing again.  We bathed the little guy early, I nursed him right before we left, and we drove 40 minutes to our destination.  To our delight, he was passed out when we made our entrance into the busy restaurant.  We were both worried that baby B might ruin our our dinner out like he did last time.  The good news is that he didn't ruin our night.  The bad news is that I did.

The beginning of dinner was ok.  We were both starving so we ordered quite a bit of food.  So much that it actually made the waitress ask us if we were sure we wanted so much.  I had not eaten very much all day and neither had my husband.  Over micro-brewed beers, my husband and I talked about, what else, the baby.  We talked about the baby until we ran out of new things to talk about regarding the baby.  Then we just kind of sat there looking around.  We always had stuff to talk about.  Ugh.  All I could think about was that were were those people that I saw in a restaurant that sat there and didn't talk.  I always felt bad for those people.  We had gotten into a fight earlier in the week about working out, schedules, and who does more for the baby.  We had agreed to talk about it when we go on our little family trip next weekend.  I couldn't stand the silence though and HAD to bring it up.

What happened next was truly awful.  First, I brought up how CrossFit is ruining my life (dramatic much?).  My argument was that it has become the sole focus in my husband's life and comes before the baby and me.  I talked about how the rigid class schedule makes for a very hectic Monday and Wednesday for me because I am left taking care of the baby and making dinner alone.  I brought up how I feel like that is all he ever wants to talk about or watch.  I mentioned how I feel like if I don't join CrossFit that it is going to drive us farther and farther apart because I feel left out of the "club".  I whined about how a CrossFitter that just had a baby via c-section 3 weeks ago, after preeclampysia already looked better than I did now, almost 5 months later.  You think I would have felt that I had piled on enough shit there, but I just kept on going.

I ripped my poor husband apart for nearly 25 minutes on the guise of being angry about CrossFit, when in fact it had nothing to do with CrossFit at all.  It was just the easiest subject to get at and my husband was a sitting duck.  My husband would try to talk and I'd cut him off with a smart @$$ comment about CrossFit.  It got to the point where my husband was asking me if I was trying to get him to divorce me, but I couldn't stop myself from dredging up every minute thing that had bothered me about our relationship for the past 5 months.  In my head, I knew I should stop, but my mouth just kept on going.  It got so bad that the waitress was afraid to come over to our table.  She kind of threw the check on the table and sprinted off.  We weren't shouting, but we were so deep in conversation and both on the verge of tears.

The few words that I let my husband counter with hurt, but they were mostly true.  He asked me if I understood that I hadn't put him first in years.  Since we started trying for a baby, basically.  He was right.  The baby race had been my first priority for some time.  He told me that I used to have such a positive outlook on life and now pretty much saw the glass half empty.  He highlighted that I am never happy and always jealous of others.  He brought up how he had gone from being a generally unhealthy person, to now a very healthy person.  Then he said this, that really affected me, "We have the perfect family and so many people would love to be in our shoes.  We have a nice house, nice cars, good jobs, good health, and beautiful baby boy".  He was so right.  I knew it.  What the hell was wrong with me?

My husband paid the check and we were getting ready to leave when an older lady tapped me on the shoulder.  I was paranoid that she was going to say something about our conversation, when all she wanted to do was congratulate us on how beautiful and perfect our sleeping baby was.  I thanked her and almost burst into tears.  My husband and I couldn't get out of there fast enough after that.

The car ride home was quiet until my husband asked me where we should go from here.  I didn't know what to say.  He told me he would quit CrossFit if it would turn things around for me and make me happier and he didn't say it in a sarcastic manner.  He was serious.  It was at this point that I finally burst into tears.

I told him that I didn't want him to quit CrossFit and, as much as I knock it, I know how much he loves it and how good he is at it.  He places in regional competitions.  How could I tell him to give that up?  Between sobs I finally spit out what the problem really was.  It wasn't CrossFit at all.  It was me.  My self-esteem has taken a nose dive in the past few years.  I went from a super healthy, in-shape, perfect makeup, perfect hair, happy-in-my-own-life marathoner to an unhappy, out of shape, unkempt, jealous, mother.  I never have time to do my hair or makeup anymore.  I don't even have time to iron, my clothes before work.  Every second of my day is filled with some type of activity.  I never have any time to spend on myself.  My baby is growing and thriving and I am falling apart.  In the back of my head, I am worried that my husband will leave me for a young CrossFitter that is more attractive, is in better shape, and would talk about WODs, burpees, and wall balls until the cows come home.  I make up these scenarios of my husband leaving me because I don't feel good enough anymore.  

There, I said it.  This is so hard for me to admit, but I think that I naively thought that having a baby, alone, would make me happy and make my life complete and it didn't.  In fact, it has made me pretty much the worst version of myself and have never felt so unattractive or unlovable.  Please don't get me wrong, I love being a mother and I love my son to death.  I would die for him without so much as a second thought.  I let myself go for so long because my sole focus was on baby, baby, baby.  Now that he is here, I am left with the ruins of that process and it isn't pretty.  My body and mind have both taken a beating.  It took me 2 years to do this to myself, so how do I expect that it will take less than 5 months to undo the damage and be my 2010 self?

To wrap up this long drawn out story, I will say that I really do have the best husband ever.  As soon as I started crying and explained what was really wrong he also started crying.  He said that earlier in his life, he had made the decision to never get married.  Then he met me, he said, and decided that if there was anyone in the world that he could be with the rest of his life, it was me.  He felt so bad that I thought he could ever leave me for anyone else.  No.  Matter.  What.  Period.  He held my hand as he said it and squeezed it tight.  He said he felt bad that I felt so bad and he wanted me to feel good about myself.  He wanted me to be happy again.  Just hearing him say that  made me feel a little better.

I don't think that my body will ever be the same.  All of the 10 mile runs (yes, I ran 10 miles by myself this past weekend at an 8:44 pace **pats back**) aren't going to make my body what it was before I had the baby.  I really need to accept that.  I don't think that my relationship between my husband and I will ever be the same again.  It will never be just us.  It doesn't mean that it can't be great.  It just has to be different.

I know what I need to do.  I need to be kinder to myself.  I need to recognize that I am not perfect and will always be a work-in-progress.  I need to be happy and thankful for what I have and not continue to focus on what others have and be constantly jealous.  I need to remember that marriage is for better or worse.  I've got lots to work on and am beginning to realize that the only person who is really critical of me is me.

share this on »

I'm (not) sorry that breastfeeding my baby makes you feel uncomfortable

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Can I please vent for a minute?  As if breastfeeding exclusively and pumping three times a day at work aren't exhausting enough (not to mention all that comes along with it like cleaning bottles, pump parts, etc.), explaining to people where I am for 1 1/2 hours each day while I am at work is getting really old.  The responses I get when I tell people where I have been or where I am going have ranged from general acknowledgement to downright embarrassment.  Now, I am not embarrassed, mind you, they are.

About a week ago I was explaining to a sympathetic coworker (who by-the-way, does not have kids and never will) about the troubles that I was having with my Medela Freestyle pump.  It seemed like there was a battery or motor issue and I was worried that it might crap out on me while I was at work.  Now, given the fact that I spend so much of my day using that machine, I was quite distressed.  She and I were deep in discussion when another coworker, who happened to be a man, walked in and asked us what we were talking about.  I unabashedly told him that my almost $500 breast pump was having issues.  He froze, turned beet red, promptly stated that he didn't want to discuss "women's issues", and walked away.  Umm ok.

This past Monday, I had just finished up a pumping session and was waiting for the elevator to go back to my floor.  The "quiet room" is not on the same floor that I work on.  While I was waiting, I saw another coworker, who also happened to be a man.

"What brings you down to this floor?" he asked.

"Feeding my baby" I stated, pointing to my unmistakable black Medela bag.

It took a second to register with him, but then he said "Oh", as he stammered, turned red, and then with record speed, changed the subject to asking if I was getting much sleep.

These are just two instances where I have left men at my office feeling uncomfortable.  I also get stares as I walk into and out of the "quiet room".  People stare at me while I transfer milk to and from the cooler pack that I keep in the fridge in the kitchen since we do not have one in the "quiet room".

One day last week, when I was doing a milk transfer, a guy (yes, I work with 90% men) asked me if I was going to be enjoying an afternoon snack.  I wanted to burst out laughing and ask him if he was serious.  Aye.

It isn't just men that proliferate the nonsense surrounding breastfeeding.  I have a friend who is breastfeeding who was shocked when I told her that I didn't like using a cover.  She isn't the most modest person either, but she couldn't understand how I could whip out a breast in public to feed baby B.

It just drives me crazy that breastfeeding is still so taboo in American culture.  THERE IS NOTHING SEXUAL ABOUT BREASTFEEDING.  Seriously, I was talking to a friend the other day and we were commenting on how breastfeeding takes all of the "sexy" out of that part of the body.  I don't even want my husband anywhere near my boobs.  Hands off!!  Breastfeeding is all business.  Baby business.  My baby is hungry and needs to eat.  My breasts are where the milk is stored.  I could keep going, but I think you all get it.

I don't understand why it makes people feel so uncomfortable when I mention that I am breastfeeding my baby.  Maybe someone can explain it to me?  Until then, I am going to continue feeding my baby whenever and wherever he is hungry and proudly explaining to people where I am for 1 1/2 hours out of my day.

share this on »

The fun never ends around here

Monday, September 9, 2013

Last night, as my husband, sister and I were enjoying some incredibly awesome paleo apple crisp made with freshly picked Cortland apples (I'll share that recipe later), we heard a disturbing sound outside.  My sister's dog started barking loudly.  My dog soon started barking as well.  They were out for their nightly backyard jaunt, which includes a bathroom break and is normally quite uneventful.

My sister went outside on the deck to see what the commotion was.  My heart sank when we heard her gasp.  Both dogs had been sprayed by a skunk that was hiding under the deck.  They were both in distress trying to shake the stinging oil.

Well hello there, idiot dogs!

The three of us froze.  We had no idea what to do.  It was close to 10 PM and no pet stores or veterinary offices were open.  I called the vet's answering service and they referred me to an all night clinic.  The girl who took my call was incredibly nice and helpful and mentioned that her dog had been sprayed at least 3 times.  She told me to first sprinkle both dogs with baking soda and let it sit for at least 10 minutes before brushing them.  She said that this helps to neutralize the odor and helps the oily substance from being absorbed.  Next she told me to mix up hydrogen peroxide, baking soda, and dish soap and wash the dogs with that several times.  She mentioned that if either god started vomiting that we should bring them in to be evaluated.  I profusely thanked her, hung up the phone, and shook my head at my sister and husband.  We had a long night ahead of us.

My husband went outside with a flashlight and corralled both dogs onto the deck.  He proceeded to sprinkle them both with the 1/2 box of baking soda that we had left.  Both dogs were so confused at why we could not let them in the house.  The deck was a mess with baking soda everywhere.  The smell that wafted into the house with the breeze was repulsive.  There was no way that we were going to be able to wash them right away.  It was chilly outside and we didn't have enough peroxide or baking soda to make the mixture.  I also had to go and take care of the baby, who conveniently started crying right when the skunk situation went down (for once, I was actually happy to hear him crying at 10 PM).

My sister went out after 30 minutes and brushed both dogs.  My husband cleared out the small shed at the back of the house and put the dogs in there for the night.  Poor things.

This morning I had to go to work.  I missed several days last week due to food poisoning and was afraid to miss any more for fear of getting fired.  My husband drew the short straw and had to stay home with the stinkies.  He decided that he is going to see if any grooming joint will take them.  It is just too messy to try to do it on our own.  TBD whether he has any luck or not.  Oh my gosh, I hope he does.

Now to completely change the subject to the paleo apple crisp...  We got this recipe off of another blog.  It was awesome!  Enjoy!

share this on »

Overcoming diastasis recti (part 1)

Friday, September 6, 2013

In the weeks that followed my c-section, I frantically searched the web for anything that could help me with my bloated looking "mommy tummy".  Sure it was only a few weeks post the birth of my son, but I was not at all used to having a saggy belly and I was not content to just wait and see what happened.  I took matters into my own hands and I am so glad that I did.

Those early internet searches yielded me things like the Tupler Technique and Complete Motions.  I am not going to discount sites like these because they may in fact help women overcome issues with diastasis recti.  The problem that I found with them was that they charge you an arm and a leg to do so.  I was not willing to spend a bunch of money on some DVDs that I would most likely never use, so I continued searching for a different answer.

Instead of shelling out a ton of money, I sought out the help of a physical therapist (which my health insurance covered) many weeks ago and it was one of the best decisions that I made.  My physical therapist was amazing.  When I first started seeing her my abdominal separation was about 4 fingers or more apart.  This was considered by my OB to be a serious separation that could only be fixed with surgery.  My PT convinced me that I could make great strides towards a recovery, without surgery.  I was more than willing to give it a try.

I met with her only a few times, but in those meetings she gave me exercises and encouragement that I so desperately needed.  She encouraged me to share the exercises that she gave to me with my friends, so this is what I am going to do, friends.  No large amounts of money required.  I am going to break it up into a few different posts, the first being recovery exercises by land, the second being recovery by water, and the third being prevention (which I WISH I would have known when I was pregnant).  Enjoy!

What is diastasis recti?

I had never heard of this before or during my pregnancy.  It was only after, when I Googled my symptoms that I discovered it.  Basically what happens is, as the baby grows inside your uterus, it pushes on the abdominal muscles.  If your abdominal muscles are not especially strong, the pressure from the growing baby will push them apart, causing a separation.  The separation looks much worse after pregnancy and looks like an unsightly bulge, which in my opinion, makes one look like they are still several months pregnant.  

The Mayo Clinic website describes the conditions that make diastasis recti more likely during pregnancy:

  • If you are over 35 years old
  • If you are pregnant with multiples
  • If you are pregnant with a larger baby (the case for me!)
  • If you are on your 2nd, 3rd, etc. pregnancy
  • If you engage in intense abdominal exercises after the first trimester

In real life, this is what diastasis recti looks like (me about 6 weeks postpartum)...


How do I know if I have it?

Lay down on your back with your knees up to the ceiling.  Pull your chin to your knees (keeping your spine on the floor) like you are doing a crunch.  Place your fingers just below your belly button and feel your ab muscles squeeze your fingers.  If there is more than 2 fingers in the space between your abs, then you most likely have diastasis recti.

What NOT to do when you have diastasis recti!

1.  Crunches.  No, no, no!  Luckily I found this out before I tried doing them.  They will make the condition worse!

2.  Twisting abdominal motions.  These will also make the condition worse.

3.  Get up out of bed the conventional way.  I was taught the roll method of getting up which should also be used during pregnancy.  While laying down, roll to your side to that your legs are hanging of the bed at the knees.  Using your arms for support and while bracing your abdominal muscles, push yourself up and put your feet on the floor.  You'll thank me later, I swear!

Diastasis recti recovery by land (part 1)

First things first, I am not a doctor or physical therapist myself and I am not claiming to be either of those.  I am simply letting you all know what I did and what seemed to work for me.  I hope that this also works for you and would love to hear from you if you try it and experience some success, like me.

The first thing I think that you should do before you try out any exercises is to purchase and use an abdominal binder.  I know this is controversial, but I really think that it helped me for so many reasons.  Post c-section, coughing, sneezing, laughing, etc., hurts.  Having the binder on gave me some support and made those (sometimes uncontrollable) actions hurt less.  They also helped with my self-esteem.  There is nothing like looking 6 months pregnant when you aren't pregnant anymore.

I purchased a few different binders, which I'll review very quickly.

The Babies R Us Post Partum Support - This was the first one that I used starting from a few days after I gave birth.  It was not very comfortable, but it served its purpose, I suppose.  It was also quite cheap.  I wore it only during the day in the first few weeks because it was so tight.  It made me feel much more confident about going out in public with anything other than a sweatshirt on.  It started to fall apart after a few weeks, though, and began to bunch and look rather lumpy under my clothes.

The Medela Postpartum Support - I purchased this support to wear at night because it looked much more comfortable.  It was.  It wasn't as tight or bulky/bunchy.  The problem with this one was that when I started to shrink in the stomach area, the support, which was a size small, became too big and useless.

The Fit Splint -  This support was the most expensive that I bought, but undoubtedly the best.  I bought it to wear in my early days of running.  It made my stomach feel secure and stopped the annoying jiggle during jogging.  The only bad thing about it was that it was neoprene and while this made it fairly invisible under clothing, it also made it terribly hot.  It also chaffed my stomach the first time I wore it.  My PT encouraged me to wear this while engaging in some of my exercises.

On to the exercises...

Once I got the OK from my OB to start any exercises (a little over 6 weeks postpartum), I started with my PT.  The first few exercises she gave me sound really easy, but they were really hard for me at first.  My old, in-shape, self mentally thought I could do them, but physically it was a whole lot tougher.  It was so frustrating.  Here are the first few exercises that I completed:

1. Find neutral pelvis position.  To do this, lay on your back, place your hands on your stomach, and pull your naval to the floor (tilt your pelvis upward).  Find the position where your hands are parallel to the floor.  This is the position that I did many of the below mentioned exercises.

2.  Kegels.  Hate these.  Absolutely despise them.  I was told to do them during pregnancy to help strengthen my pelvic floor muscles and help prevent incontinence.  Did I do them?  No.  Should I have done them?  Probably.  If you are not familiar with Kegels, contract your pelvic floor muscles, hold for a second or two, and then relax them.  These are the same muscles that start and stop the flow of urine.  Do these lying down at first, 5-10 Kegels, 5-10 times a day.  Even once a day will help.  I am not sure I ever found the time or patience for that many.  Once you get good at them, try them sitting, then standing, and then walking.  You'll be a Kegel maniac in no time.  Your husband might thank you as well.  ;-)

3.  Pelvic clock.  Laying down on your back with your knees up, imagine your stomach as a clock.  In the neutral pelvis position, tilt your pelvis from 12 to 6 and then back.  Do this several times.  Next, try the same thing, but going from 3 to 9 and then back.  Do this several times.  Now try the whole clock going clockwise a few times and then switch to counter clockwise, in a smooth motion.

4.  The elevator.  This is a tough one to understand and a tough one to do, at least for me.  Laying on your back, with knees up, and with a neutral pelvis, engage the pelvic floor muscles in three distinct sections: pubic bone, belly button, rib cage.  Hold at each "floor" for 10 seconds.  Once at the top "floor" go back down, while holding in the same fashion.  Do 5-10 of these at least once a day.  The more the better!

5.  Diaphragmatic breathing.  This is a nice and relaxing one.  In the same position (on back, knees up, neutral pelvis), put your hands on your stomach and keeping your chest still, inhale deeply with your belly, hold for 2 counts, and then exhale, sinking your belly button to the floor on the exhale for a 3 counts.  Do a few of these and gradually increase the counts when you feel comfortable doing so.  to make this even harder, try bringing your belly button closer to the floor on the exhales.  

6.  Lumbar stabilization exercises.  In the same position (on back, knees up, neutral pelvis) try the following for two minutes total (trying to be as continuous as possible!!):

  • Dropping knees out and then pulling them back in while keeping core as stable as possible.
  • Sliding heels out and in while keeping core as stable as possible.
  • Marching one foot up, then down, on both sides, while keeping core as stable as possible.

I did only these above 6 exercises for several weeks before moving on to anything more complicated or abdominally engaging.  Just with these exercises, I was able to get from a more than four finger separation to a tight 3 finger.

Here is a picture of me a few weeks after completing the above exercises.  I still had a ways to go, but I was already starting to notice a difference.

Still not where I wanted to be...but getting there!

share this on »
1 Comment »

A new (blog) identity

Thursday, September 5, 2013

I feel like my blog is smack in the middle of an identity crisis, or maybe I am.  The reason that I started it was to chronicle my path through the scary jungle of repeated loss.  I was in a pretty dark place in April of 2012 and needed an outlet for my emotions, fears, and anxieties.  I wanted to connect with and potentially help others that were in similar spots.  I think this blog has served its purpose and then some, but right now I feel like I am in no man's land in both blog and in real life.

Over the past several months, my blog has switched from a loss blog, to a TTC after loss blog, to a pregnancy after loss blog, to a parenting after loss blog.  This has happened organically and frankly without my noticing until recently.  My blog has taken on a whole new identity and I am caught somewhere in the middle.

For so long trying to have a baby was the number one thing in my life.  It came above all else, including my husband and me.  My life revolved around temperature taking, analyzing cervical mucous, and ovulation and pregnancy testing.  Once I was pregnant it revolved around pregnancy symptoms, doctors appointments, ultrasounds, and gestational diabetes.  Now my life revolves around my son.  I guess that was just the organic evolution of things, but I do feel like a major part of my identity is gone and even though I don't have a ton of free time right now, I still feel like part of me has gone missing.

Many times, I still wake up in the morning and am in complete awe of the fact that I have a baby.  I am now so deeply entrenched in all things baby.  I complain about baby related things...irregular sleeping patterns, breastfeeding issues, blowouts...  I relate to people with babies and children.  I pretty much only associate with people who have babies and children.  I am becoming one of those people that I despised when I was having trouble carrying a pregnancy and I am not feeling good about it.

I belong to a support group in FB of girls that all lost babies that were due in April, 2012.  One of those girls recently posted that she was feeling quite sad about the anniversary of the date when she found out two years ago that she was losing her baby.  It made me stop and pause because I could no longer remember the anniversary of the date that I found out about my impending pregnancy loss.  It upset me.  I used to keep close tabs on all of the dates of my losses and I feel like I have pushed them all to the back of my consciousness.  I don't think about those babies like I once used to.  I don't dream about them.  I don't cry about them.  I rarely even think about them because I am quite preoccupied with the one that made it.  It makes me want to cry as I am typing this.

Yesterday I decided to visit Fertility Friend, which has been a favorite site of mine for several years, and used to be a daily habit.  Since I haven't gotten my period yet and we are not planning on trying for another baby for quite some time, I realized that I really didn't fit in on any of the boards.  The TTC boards are for people who are actively trying to get pregnant or at the least tracking their cycles.  The Pregnancy boards are (obviously) for people who are pregnant or just gave birth.  My VIP membership runs out in 34 days.  My first thought was to renew it, but then I remembered that I really have no use for it right now.  That made me sad, too.  One day I'll probably go back to trying to have a baby and all that goes along with that, but right now, thankfully, I am in a different place and I don't need it.

In trying to move forward with my life, I decided that rather than close down the blog all together, that I am going to try a new and fresh look.  I know I have changed and my blog has changed, too.  I need to keep the blog in-sync with my life if I want to continue it. So stay tuned.  One day in the near future, you might not recognize the look of my little space on the Internet anymore.  Hopefully you'll still recognize me though.  I'm still the same girl as I was when I started the blog, I just have my precious baby now.

share this on »

I drink alone

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

On Sunday night, my husband I and decided to get the babe ready for bed early so that we could go out to dinner at a new restaurant near our house.  We have done it several times before, get him ready for bed, snuggle him up in his bucket seat, drive around for a half hour and then have a peaceful and romantic dinner while B sleeps angelically.

This particular Sunday's routine was no different than usual.  As soon as my husband hit the gas, B was out cold.  We drove around for another twenty minutes for good measure.  We got lucky with an awesome parking spot and thought that the stars were aligning perfectly for our evening on the town as a threesome.  Haha.  Nice try, silly newbie parents, nice try.

The restaurant was pretty posh with a really cool looking circular bar in the center that was illuminated beautifully.  Just made me want to have a nice expensive glass of wine.  I had fed B about an hour before we left so I figured that I'd be good to have 1 glass before the next feeding.  Haha.  Riiiight.

Not 5 minutes after we were seated, the little angel babe decided he had enough of dreamland and woke up.  His eyes were wide open.  At first he kind of just looked around, but my husband and I knew better than to think he'd be content sucking on his pacifier while being entertained by the 7:30 PM trendy drinking crowd.  He soon started to fuss, then cry, then full-out wail.  My husbands attempts to rock the bucket did nothing.

The waitress came over to get our drink order.  I ordered a nice Cabernet and my husband ordered a beer.  Turns out my husband and I looked younger than our mid-thirty year old selves because we both got carded and oops my husband forgot his ID in the car.  The waitress insisted that she had to check his ID before serving him so he decided to go back to the car and take the baby to see if he might fall asleep on the walk.

Ten minutes later my husband came back in a huff.  Baby was still crying.  He was pissed.  I had already sipped my wine.  He sarcastically told me to enjoy it, and without giving me any time to ask what he was doing, promptly left with the screaming baby.

So there I was in the middle of the crowded restaurant, drinking a glass of Cabernet alone.  I took a sip of my glass of wine.  I had no idea what was going on so I called him.  He told me to order food to go for both of us and call him when it was done.  He said he'd be driving around until B fell asleep and would pick me up.  He told me to enjoy my glass of wine.

So yeah that's what I sort of did.  For the first time, I think ever, I sat at a restaurant table and drank by myself.  Normally I would have felt very uncomfortable about this new found situation, but this time, I found it actually quite nice to be alone.  I savored the wine and the peace.

I figured that I didn't have much time while the food was prepared so I pretty much slammed down the glass of wine.  By the time the food came, I was a little tipsy.  I called my husband and told him to pick me up.  He yelled over the crying baby that he'd be there in 2 minutes and to walk across the (busy) street to wait for him.  I jokingly said that I hoped that I wouldn't get hit by a car, knowing I was rather tipsy and in heels, and he hung up on me.  Nice.

B screamed all the way home.  My attempts to make him feel better by sitting in the back seat of the car did nothing.  He was, apparently, starving, and due to the fact that I had just chugged a glass of wine, I could not simply whip out a boob.  We dealt with the screaming until my husband put a bottle of breast milk in his mouth 20 minutes later.  

By the time we got the baby to sleep, the food was cold and neither of us felt like eating.  So much for a night of romance...  We are slowly but surely learning who the commander in chief of the family is these days and it most definitely isn't either of us.  

share this on »
Add a comment »