Back in my days of trying to conceive, it did not take me long to learn that that blue dye pregnancy tests were never to be trusted.  BabyCenter, Fertility Friend, Pee On A Stick...you mention a blue test and they will all tell you the same thing.  Blue = BAD.  Whether it was the thickness of the line, the depth of color of the line, or whether or not there was a true plus sign, those things were considered extremely unreliable.  Visit any tweakers board and they will usually have a disclaimer that says that they do not tweak blue dye tests or if you came to them with a blue dye test to tweak, they would tell you to come back with a pink one.
When I was peeing on sticks, regularly, I always preferred FRER (First Response Early Response).  When that habit started to get too expensive, I would buy large quantities of cheapie Wondfos off of Amazon to satisfy my "craving".  Those tests sucked, but the pregnancy tests were pink and thus tweakable and considered more reliable than the blue dye tests.

After my last miscarriage, I regularly tested to see if my HCG levels were back down to 0 so that I could start trying again.  During that time, I made the mistake of purchasing a CVS brand pregnancy test.  I was in a hurry, it was on sale, and yadda, yadda, yadda, it ended up on my bathroom counter.  For the purposes of testing to see that my levels were back at 0, I figured it was ok.  When I took the test at that time, back came a thin blue line, which indicated to me that I still had some pregnancy hormones floating around.  Taking the same test two weeks later showed me a negative.  Case closed.  I still had one test left, though, which I stuck in the back of my closet for a future emergency.

About a week and a half ago, I started feeling a little bit off.  All of a sudden my nipples were incredibly sensitive, I developed a zit on my chin, I was terrible lethargic, and I started feeling crampy.  "You're getting your period!" you might think.  I would have thought that this might have been the case except for that my husband and I had unprotected sex (for the first time since the baby was born) and 2 days later I had some serious EWCM.  I was about 6-7 days out from there so I started to get a little bit suspicious that maybe,  just maybe, I was pregnant.  Oops.

I did what any normal, post-miscarriage surviving mommy to an almost 1 year old would do and dug into the back of my closet for any pregnancy test that I might have.  Poof!  CVS blue dye test, a cup of fresh pee, and an extremely nervous me, secretly holed up in the bathroom.  I checked the expiration date on the box and I will admit that it was just ever so slightly expired (only by 2 months).  I figured that it was better than nothing and I dunked the stick in.  I set it on the counter with a tissue over it like I did back in the old days.

Those five minutes of me sitting on the toilet, waiting for the test to finish, were agonizing.  Was I really ready for another baby if I were pregnant?  Could we afford another child right now?  Why didn't we use a condom?  Was my body ready for another pregnancy?  Where would we put the baby?  Would it be a boy or a girl?  Would I have to cancel my NYC Marathon entry...again?  How would I tell my husband?  Would he be happy?

Ding...ding!  After five of the longest minutes in my whole life, I pulled off the tissue and saw this...

I wrote most of this post a few weeks ago, but got sidetracked and never posted it.  This past weekend, we celebrated my son's first birthday by having a rather large party with family and friends.  It was a really great time.  I was so proud to see my little son interacting with others and hamming it up for the camera.  Admittedly, those happy and proud feelings were mixed with a strong sense of sadness.  Sadness of no longer having a "baby".  Sadness because time moved so so fast during the past year.  Sadness because he may have been my only baby.

Without further ado, here is my post...

My son's first birthday is approaching the station like an out of control train.  I want it to slow down, it is going too fast.  No matter what I do though, the train is going to keep moving with my baby and I on it.  I blinked and my "tiny" 9lb 2oz sleepy baby was an over 22lb babbling little man.  Sound a little dramatic?  Maybe so.  Maybe not for mommies who are either done having children or are not sure that they will (be able to) have another.

This past week, I have been quite the weepy mess.  People mention to me about the impending birthday and I put on an ecstatic front of happiness when in fact I am actually filled with sadness.  Every time I think about my baby turning one, my eyes well up with tears.  Don't get me wrong, I am so incredibly happy that I have a very healthy and happy almost 1 year old, but I am sad because this may be it for me as far as babies go.  I'm just not sure that another baby is in the cards for us.  He may be my first and last baby.

When I think back to all of the firsts that I saw my baby accomplish, I wonder, did I really appreciate that enough?  The first time that I looked into his eyes?  The first time that he smiled at me?  The first time that he belly laughed?  The first time he babbled "dada"?  Was I really present enough?  Did I really appreciate all of his firsts?

I also have some mommy guilt over some things that I have not done, or have done differently than I had originally planned.  His baby book sits within the living room coffee table almost completely untouched and instead Baby Connect holds most of the data from his first year.  The regular videos that I wanted to take with our video camera have turned instead into short clips on the iPhone.  The hand-print ornament that I was supposed to make for Christmas to put on the tree turned into a purchased one from Hallmark.

I am incredibly excited for the years to come.  They will be filled with many more firsts.  First hair cut.  First trip down the sliding board.  First day of school.  First read/written words.  There is so much fun stuff to look forward to, but there will be no more infant moments with him.  My little baby is growing up.  Soon he will be a toddler.  In creeps the sadness.

It is funny how, in those early days soon after B's birth, that the days seemed impossibly long.  I feared that I might not make it through.  Everything seemed so hard, so new, so scary.  My days revolved around breastfeeding every 2 hours and changing the right amount of mustard colored diapers.  Getting out for a walk was a monumental fete.  I would drive 40 minutes to Starbucks so that I could go to the drive-thru and not have to wake my sleepy baby.  Baby music class was my only social activity.  I barely recognized myself, both physically and mentally,  and some days I was worried that I might not be cut out for motherhood.  I was worried I might not be a great mother and that I was too selfish, to impatient, and much of a perfectionist.  Looking back on that, now, I realize that I was just transitioning from my individual self to my mommy self.  Everything was ok.  I wish I could go back and reassure myself  during those, sometimes bleak, days.  Everything was ok.  It really was.  Just different.  Maybe then I could have enjoyed those early moments with my son just a little bit more and I wouldn't have this nagging feeling that I may have missed out.  I can only hope that I did the best that I could at the time.

So now the first birthday has passed.  The first birthday party was a success.  The #1 candle was blown out and the presents were opened.  It's on to the future.  I'm not sure what it will hold, but I know that I am going to be present and I am going to enjoy it.  So I'll keep my secret quiet, for now, and hope that the sadness dissipates.

A little over a year ago, sitting in my hospital bed, swollen and bloated with IV fluids, getting a blood transfusion, and trying to breastfeed my screaming starving newborn baby with my flat as pancake nipples, I never would have thought that I would still be breastfeeding a year into the future.  Today, I am and I am patting myself on the back for it.  It still is hard sometimes, but so incredibly worth it.

In the earliest of my breastfeeding days, I wanted to give up.  Everything about breastfeeding was so hard.  I was so tempted to throw in the towel and quit.  Here are some of the reasons why I almost quit and along with those reasons are the actual reality.  Well, my reality, that is.  I know that not everyone has an easy time breastfeeding and some women, no matter how hard they try, are unable to continue.  That's ok, too.  If you are reading this and trying to decide what to do, hopefully this will help you out a bit.  I wish I had read something similar 12 months back.

1.  I had a c-section.
Ooooof, strike one.  If you end up with an emergency c-section, like me, you'll hear it from nurse after nurse that having a c-section means that your milk will come in later than if you had a straight-forward vaginal delivery.  This means day 4 or 5 compared to day 2 or 3.  Although it is proven that milk will come in later when you have a c-section, I believe that this is partially a self-fulfilling prophecy.  If you are super stressed about waiting for your milk to come in then it will take longer.  Thankfully my milk ended up coming in on day 4.

2.  I had to give my baby formula so I may as well just continue making bottles.
My baby lost 10% of his body-weight in the first few days after birth.  Since I had a c-section and was delayed with my milk coming in, the doctors and nurses convinced me to give the baby formula.  Even though it was not in my master "plan" and I felt terrible about it at the time, I did what I thought was right.  I didn't want my baby to suffer at all and to go hungry.  We used the SNS (supplemental nursing system), which hooks a tube of formula to your nipple so the baby gets a good supply of food while still learning how to nurse at the same time.  Guess what?  Once I left the hospital, I never used the SNS again or needed to give the baby formula.

3.  It HURTS too bad to bear.
When my milk came in on that 4th day it was so painful.  It felt like to 2 hot, hard, rocks on my chest.  I had a slight fever.  I thought I was getting mastitis.  More than the breast pain was the nipple pain.  My nipples chaffed, bled, and scabbed.  I cried every time the baby latched on.  MISERY, I tell you.  For something that is supposed to come so naturally to a woman who has just given birth, this felt just about as unnatural as humanly possible.  Experience helps here because this pain is temporary.  If you haven't had the experience, call someone who does.  Let them talk you through it.  My mom assured me that the rock solid feeling of my milk coming in would go away.  It did.  She assured me that my nipples would "toughen up".  They did.  I liken the early days of breastfeeding as running the first mile of a race.  Getting into it is hard, but once you get warmed up, you'll be on your way.  That is not to say that you can't use tools to help make the pain go away...nipple shields, lanolin, soothing gel pads, heating packs, ice packs, ibuprofen...YES.  Anything that helps with the pain in those early days is worth using.  Seriously.  USE IT!!

4.  Breastmilk isn't filling enough so my baby won't sleep through the night and I NEED my sleep.
First things first, I am not sure that it is a fact that your baby will sleep longer if he/she has formula instead of a bottle.  Some people may tell you that breastfed babies will continue to wake several times a night because they are not getting enough milk or because they want the comfort of their mommy.  My experience has been this, it isn't the amount of milk that he is getting (if I pump instead of feed, I get 7-8 ounces), but the comfort factor.  For me, even though the lack of sleep sucks, I work all day and don't get to see my baby very much all week.  It is nice to get to spend some snuggle time with him, even if it is at 3 AM.  They are only little once and he isn't going to be up all night and in need of his mommy forever.

5.  I am going back to work and don't want to deal with a pump and pumping.  
So this one is probably going to vary greatly for each person based on the job that they do.  I have a lot of teacher friends who really have a very limited amount of time to pump during the workday so their experience was much different than mine.  Luckily my work is pretty supportive of nursing mothers and basically ask no questions and make no demands about what you can and can't do.  I started pumping 3 times a day when I first got back to work and that was difficult.  Constantly getting interrupted from work, cleaning the pump parts each time, answering lots of awkward questions about what I was doing in that "little room"...not the most fun I have had.  Moving down to 2 pumping sessions a day was such a treat.  So much more time during the day and I could finally go out to lunch again!  This past week I have dropped down to one session a day, and let me tell you, it is like a vacation.  No more washing pump parts!  I can just pump at 11:30 AM, throw the parts in a bag, and wash them when I get home.  I am down to 18 minutes from my desk back to my desk, 4 days a week!  Looking back on my pumping experience, I would not change a thing about it.  I think it worked out for me and I was lucky.  It wasn't always easy and I did have some mishaps (forgetting parts, plugged ducts, scheduling follies), but nothing that I couldn't handle.  It was a sacrifice of time, but I feel that it was worth it for me and my baby!

6.  Reflux, spitting up, MSPI, oh my!
Seeing my baby so upset at the breast and constantly waring bibs because of the crazy amount of spit-up, was hard to watch.  When the pediatrician told me that I would have to give up so many foods that I like to try to alleviate the problem, was hard to fathom.  I didn't think I could do it.  Dairy, soy, nuts, wheat, eggs, etc.  Yikes, what else is there to eat??  Wouldn't it just be easier to give him some hypoallergenic formula?  Yes, it may have been easier, especially coming from someone who had to restrict their diet during pregnancy due to GDM.  It turns out that there is a lot to eat that doesn't include the above items and when you finally start adding back those items, you either find that do don't want them anymore or that they taste that much better since you haven't had them in so long.  Either way, babies usually grow out of this around 6-8 months and this was true for me.  Although I am now mostly Paleo, I do eat some raw milk cheese, butter, and occasionally a wheat-laden treat (like a cookie).  Eggs and nuts didn't seem to be the culprit of his issues so I added them back in early on.  I also gave him some Zantac in the early days and that seemed to help with his discomfort and it helped me to sleep at night knowing that it was making him feel better.

7.  I'll breastfeed until the baby gets teeth...then I'm done for sure.
I actually said this several times before I had him.  Lucky for me, B got teeth before 4 months.  Haha.  Right now he has 8 and is working on a few more.  I have been bitten a few times, but surprisingly, not that much.  Usually it is when he is really teething, isn't hungry, or can't breathe out of his nose because he has a cold (just had him bit me for that reason today).  It hurts, but no more worse than my nipples hurt when I started breastfeeding and the pain is gone fast.  When he bites, I say no and I unlatch him.  I wait a minute then I try again.  If he bites again, he is done for the session and I try again later.


Here are a few other tips that I ave found to help me in my breastfeeding journey so far:

• Take it one day at a time.  Today may be really rough, tomorrow will be a little bit easier, and months from now it will be a breeze.

• Set realistic goals.  My first goal was 3 months.  When I hit that goal, I made another which was 6 months.  I hit that with no problem so my next goal was 1 year and I am about to hit it!  Those goals have been realistic for me, but might not work for you.  Manageable goals are much easier to attain!

• Extra pump parts are a MUST for pumping mamas!  Cleaning regular dishes sucks.  Cleaning pump parts sucks more.  Cleaning pump parts multiple times a day sucks even more. That was the best $65 bucks I have spent!

• Don't be so hard on yourself.  If you have to supplement then by all means, supplement!!  You have to do what you have to do to get by.  When I had to supplement in the beginning I felt like a failure of a mom, but I should not have.  We are so hard on ourselves when we should not be!  

• Mother's Milk Tea.  Do it.  The taste is acquired, but now I kind of like it and it definitely helps with production.     

• Seek advice from others who have been there.  My mommy friends who have breastfed their babies have been a tremendous support to me.  So has my mom.  

• Ignore the nasty comments.  Whether it is asking why you are still breastfeeding or asking why you formula feed just explain that you are feeding your baby.  It is working for you and your baby.  Period.  None of their business.

• Build up a freezer stash.  You may or may not need to use it, but it is like insurance.  If you need it, it is there.

I apologize that this post is so delayed.  At the time that I wrote the first post about diastasis recti I had wanted to follow-up shortly thereafter with another post regarding how I was dealing with the issue.  I'll update you on my "progress" and where everything stands right now.

Back when I wrote my first post on this subject in September, I had made great progress with my physical therapist.  I was doing regular core exercises that were specifically geared towards people with my condition.  I was running a ton and feeling great.  I felt like I was getting so much better so in November, I joined CrossFit.  For a while I was modifying all of the workouts that had any ab components because the physical therapist told me that they could make the condition worse and un-do all of the work that I put in (sit-ups, v-ups, toes-to-bar, etc).  After a while it started to get embarrassing and decided to disregard what my PT had said.  I always had to modify exercises and always had to explain to others why I was "cheating".  I was tired of it.

One day, during a class, I decided to just go for it.  I felt like my core was pretty strong so I did a whole workout with a component that included "toes-to-bar" except that I did "knees-to-elbows", which is the beginner version of the former workout.  I did the workout and felt ok during it, but that night when I got home, I noticed in the mirror that my stomach looked worse than it had in a long time.  My lower back was also bothering me.  UGH.  After only one workout, my diastasis looked so much worse than it had in months.  How completely defeating.

Since quitting CrossFit, I have been running a lot more.  I started training with a coach again and do weekly intervals with a "team".  I am back in my element!  The only problem is that I still have this annoying ab separation to deal with.  Besides causing some lower back pain, it looks like I am 6 months pregnant every night, which is terrible for my self-esteem.  Last week my Aunt asked me when I was due.  Seriously?  I had really hoped to wear a 2 piece bathing suit this summer, but that isn't going to happen (maybe ever again).  It is crazy that I am 115 lbs, which is lower than I was before I got pregnant, but I have never felt more uncomfortable with my body.

So now I am back to, what I feel like, is square one.  I need to start doing my core exercises from my PT again.  I need to practice getting up and out of bed in the way that she taught me.  I need to start wearing the brace at night again.  I also need to really be strict about what I am eating.  Sugar and wheat tend to make me bloated, which exacerbates the problem.  One girl in a support group that I am in, mentioned that apple cider vinegar helps with bloating.  I tried that one night when I felt very bloated and it worked within 15 minutes (I put 2 teaspoons in water and pounded it...totally gross).  I know it is bad for your teeth though, so it isn't a perfect solution.

For reference, here are some pictures to detail what I am talking about.

Picture #1

There is a guy that I pass during my walk to work on most mornings.  He sweeps the sidewalk outside one of the buildings.  All of the trash that ends up there, all of the cigarette butts, and all of the dirt and dust, he sweeps it up.  I am sure that you are thinking, such a shitty job, right?  You would think that this guy was just hating on life because he sees people pass him every day wearing nice suits, carrying their $4 lattes, and hustling to get to their high-profile & high-paying jobs.  The crazy thing is that he isn't unhappy or at least he isn't letting on that he is unhappy.  With a bounce in his step, he sweeps up all of the garbage, and while he is doing this he is smiling and whistling.  The whistling, which is quite pleasant to hear, is magnified as it echos off of the tall buildings in the vicinity.  As you walk by, he'll tip his head to you as if to say good morning or buck-up, friend.  It is impossible to walk by him and not have your mood elevated...just a little.

This guy clearly has much less than me, at least in the physical sense, and yet he still has a smile on his face every day.  I am sure that I make several times more money than he does, live in a nicer house, drive a nicer car, eat better food, go on nicer vacations, and just generally have a much "cushier" existence.  Am I happier?  No.  I'm not.  In fact, I am 100% positive that I am much angrier, resentful, judgmental, hateful, anxious, and ungrateful for everything that I have than he is with what he has.

On my walk to work today, with angry tears in my eyes, I decided that this has to stop.  I cannot continue living my life with such a bad attitude.  I am ruining my relationship with my husband, with my family, with my friends, and with my co-workers.  The smallest little things send me into a tailspin of anger.  For example, yesterday was what I would consider a "very bad weather day".  There were extremely high winds, snow, and cold temperatures, which are no fun in general.

Me- Already in a bad mood just watching the weather forecast.  

Add on the fact that we have been having this type of weather for 4-5 months at this point.  Add the fact that I was up all night with a crying baby.  Add the fact that I had to get up at 4:40 AM.  Add the fact that I hate all of my clothes because they outline the fact that my stomach still looks like I have a small baby bump.  Add the fact that my train was delayed more than 30 minutes, leaving me to stand on the platform, freezing.  Add the fact that they still collected full fare on the late train even though it was packed so full and there were no seats.  Add the fact that when I got to SBUX to get my coffee, there was a long line because I was so late...

Me- Get to work in an extremely bad mood which sets the tone for the rest of my day and how it would go.

Add on the fact that a co-worker decided to take it upon himself to have a conversation with my boss (on my behalf) because of a conversation we had where I had been flipping out about an email that she had sent and she was subsequently upset with me.  Add on the fact that when I got home I had to clean my house, which was a mess after being out of town the previous week and my husband had not so much as attempted to clean, because we were having a Realtor over.  Add the fact that I snapped at my husband about said lack of cleaning.  Add the fact that I was annoyed that I didn't have time to exercise.  Add the fact that I didn't get to eat dinner until 8:30 PM and didn't get to shower until 9 PM.  Add the fact that as soon as my head hit the pillow, an hour later than normal, the baby woke up screaming and only wanting mommy.

Me- Go to bed angry.     

You get where I am going with this, right?  Basically, everything that happened yesterday was one big fat ball of angry.  Nothing was good.  Everything sucked.  Wah, wah, wah.  Poor me.  This super-negative mentality has been feeding into every single part of my life lately.  As I was laying there trying to fall asleep last night, I was dwelling on the bad, the sad, and the ugly.  I didn't even think about any of the good that came out of yesterday:  Even though the train was standing room only, I ended up with a seat when someone got off at the next stop.  I finished a large task at work, presented it to my boss, and thoroughly impressed her.  I found out that a place right near my work has excellent coffee.  The baby fell asleep, peacefully, right at 6:45 PM.  The Realtor's first impressions of our house were extremely positive and she actually said that we had made a great investment.    

I am not sure if the key to creating a more positive outlook on life is to figure out what the cause of the anger is so that I can resolve it or if its is to forget about figuring out why (and therefore making excuses) and just focus on how you can improve your attitude.  I have thought about going back to a therapist because it was nice to have a sounding board for my problems.  The therapist was someone that had to listen to me bitch about my husband, my family, my job, my friends, my life, etc.  A captive audience.  The thing is, I know that I have a bad attitude and I don't necessarily want to indulge myself in hour long sessions of spilling my guts to a stranger about what I am annoyed with and/or angry about on any given day.  I am getting incredibly annoyed with myself (if that is even possible).

I want to start making a concerted effort to become more positive.  I want to be a positive force for my son.  I want to be a more positive presence for my husband.  I want to be more positive influence on my friends and family.  Even more important though, I want to be positive for myself.  I have one life.  This is it.  You know what?  It is a good one.  I am so lucky to have so much and to be so blessed.  So many people in this world would give anything to have my "problems" and sources of anger.  I have turned into a bitching, moaning, self-entitled, brat (for lack of a better word) and it has got to stop.  STOP.  RIGHT.  HERE.  RIGHT.  NOW.

We all have bad days and sometimes things don't go the way that we planned them out in our heads.  Such is life.  It is what we make of it.  We can choose to wake up each day with a scowl or a smile on our face.  We can focus on the negative or the positive.  It is up to us.

That whistling building maintenance man doesn't know it, but he very may well have have changed my life...for the better.

Today is sunny.  It isn't as cold and it isn't as windy.  My train was slightly delayed, but in the scheme of things, who cares?  I still got to work, safely.  Today is going to be a good day.
 

I have been thinking about this a lot lately.  Maybe it is because we are fast approaching little B's first birthday?  Maybe it is because there has been a gush of pregnancy announcements (most of them 2nd or 3rd) in the past few weeks?  Maybe it is because the farther away I get from my whole infertility, terrible pregnancy, unplanned c-section experience, the less bad it seems?

Regardless of the reasons, it's happening.  Baby fever?  Not exactly.  I am torn.  Completely undecided on the idea of having another child.  Every time I make a decision in my head and think that it is the one that makes the most sense, I think of something to refute that decision and I'm back to square one.  What gives?

My husband is just as much on the fence as me.  He went from not wanting any kids, to wanting one child, to wanting for children, and now he isn't sure if he wants any more.  He really likes CrossFit (did you know???), knows that it takes lots of his time, and knows it already makes me resentful sometimes.  Why would he want to introduce another needy individual into the mix when we already struggle to keep everything together right now?

Google, "Should I have a second child?" and the results that you get won't really surprise you.  There are articles to support both decisions, although it seemed that there were definitely more articles that I found that supported the idea of "one and done".  I think that if you are looking to be convinced on the side that you are leaning towards, you will find what you want.  If you are completely undecided, like me, then the articles won't really help.

Why shouldn't you have more than one child?  Well first off, you'll be more wealthy than if you had more than one child.  Your child will be able to go to good schools, will be able to go to expensive summer camps, and you'll be able to take that family trip to Europe.  You'll have a nicer car and a nicer house.    

Another reason to only have one child?  You'll be happier, apparently.  There are several articles that I found, such as this one, that suggest that mother's of only children are the happiest.  Maybe this is because they ultimately have more time to devote to themselves and don't have to give *everything* up.  I would assume that this would ring even more true for mothers, like myself, who work full-time, exercise regularly, and have some semblance of a social life.  Life is already hard enough balancing the needs and wants of one high-maintenance child, that juggling all that with two children seems downright impossible to me.

Oh and you'll sleep more, that's for sure (unless you have my child).  Once you have successfully sleep trained one child (they say this happens eventually, but I am not convinced) then along comes the second and poof you are at square one again.  This is especially true since you'll be living in a smaller house and your kids will be sharing a room so when one of them wakes up, they both wake up.  Hugs for everyone!!  Please put on another pot of coffee!

Internet searches aside, I have seen my friends go from one child to two and for most of them, it hasn't been an easy transition.  They have less than no time to do anything that they have to do let along time to do things they want to do.  One of the children is always sick and then once one of the recovers, the other one gets it.  Someone is always crying.  The house is always messy with kids toys everywhere.  They have no time or energy to exercise.  I have even had several friends confide in me that if they could go back and do it again, they would not have had a second child.  I am not sure if there are lots of parents out there that feel this way or if I am just randomly lucky enough to know a few of them.

You would think that this knowledge, alone, might be enough to scare me away from the idea of a second child.  Just when I am making sense to myself regarding the idea of one child, this thought hits my head, "What happens if my husband and I die?  He will be all alone in the world.  How sad."  Those thoughts are accompanied by thoughts of, "He'll be a spoiled brat" and "He'll have imaginary friends", along with "I'll have to entertain him until he is 10 years old."

I knew only children growing up, in fact, one of my best friends from high school was an only child.  She is a very smart and incredibly nice person, but she definitely had an only child "diva" side that I saw on more than one occasion (albeit many, many, years ago).

The truth is that I don't know a ton of only children, but I do know of the stereotype.  Bratty, spoiled, entitled, lonely, bored, and overprotected.  I have also heard that only children are usually smarter and have lots of friends (probably because they have to or they will get bored!), though so it obviously mus not be all bad.

What I do have a ton of experience with is multiple child households, since I came from one and most of my friends came from households with more than one child.  There was always someone to play with, but also always someone to fight with (haha).  Now that I am grown up, I appreciate my siblings a lot.  They, especially the my 3 next youngest sisters, are my best friends.  We share tons of memories and inside jokes.  We have built in support systems when we need it.  We always have someone who we can cry to and who understands the full story because we really, really, know each other.  

Our neighbor has warned me over and over again, "Have your second (and third, and forth...) child before the other one is out of diapers because it will be hard in the beginning, but then much easier later on in life."  They have two girls that are about 20 months apart.  I feel like I can understand this logic.  You wouldn't want to wait too long in-between children because you want to be able to reuse your baby stuff and of course the art of diaper changing is easily forgotten!  ;-)

So what is the decision going to be?  I guess it just isn't as straight forward and will require more time.  Who knows, maybe we wouldn't even be able to have another child.  I guess that would solve the issue for us.  Or would it?  Would I become a jealous, second-baby-craving, mommy?  Would I revisit my RE and get put on meds again?  Would I become obsessed like last time?  Would I have more miscarriages?  Would I need more D&Cs?  What if I have another boy?  Would I want a girl instead?  After having two, would that be all or would I go for a third?  I am also heading into my mid-30s and we all know what happens to every woman's fertility at the age of 35.  Ahhhh sometimes I wish I could just shut off this side of my brain and let what will be, be.

The past few weeks have been quite crazy for me.  You can always tell when my life gets hectic in that the frequency of my posts takes a complete nosedive.  Here is a little update as to why I have been more quite than normal lately.

A few weeks back I think I mentioned that one of my sisters found a lump in her breast and had to have a biopsy.  She also got back results from a PAP that pointed out potentially cancerous cells.  She had a biopsy on her breast lump and it turned out to be benign (YAY!).  She ended up having a LEEP done on her cervix and has to now go back for monitoring every 6 months.  That same sister, poor thing, has had such a rough go of it lately that you would think that the universe would give her a break.  Not so much.  WTF, universe?!

She called me early last week and mentioned that she was having some numbness under her right rib cage.  That had turned into her whole right leg going numb and a feeling of weakness when she walked around.  She was concerned so she went to the doctor and they given her an MRI of her spine.  She didn't have the results back yet, but she seemed really worried and told me to pray for her.

Last Friday she called me in a panic and told me that they had found a "growth" on her spine and needed her to go directly to the ER.  She was pretty scared.  They told her that they were not sure whether she had an infection, a virus, cancer, or worse, but that she needed steroids right away to reduce the inflammation of the "growth" so that she would not have permanent nerve damage and loss of feeling on her right side.

In somewhat of an organized panic, I made plans along with two of my other sisters to rescue our sister who was in serious need of some sisterly support.  What we found out when we got there was quite different than what we had imagined.  There was my younger sister, laid up in a hospital bed on the neurology floor with old ladies dying of complications from Alzheimer's and dementia. She just didn't seem to belong there because she was young and healthy.  It was sad and depressing.  She looked so bewildered, but also relieved to see us.

She explained to us that she had another MRI of her brain the previous night because they were trying to figure out what she had by ruling out what she didn't have.  Apparently the "growth" on her spine was actually a lesion and a condition called Transverse Myelitis.  They had also found two more lesions on her brain during the brain scan.  She calmly, but shakily explained to us that the most probable diagnosis was the auto-immune disease called Multiple Sclerosis and that this was probably an "MS" attack.

In that moment, my heart sunk to the floor.  Why her?  She had already been through quite a few other health related issues in the past few months.  How unfair.  She is young, eats healthy, and exercises.  She is getting married in a few months to a great guy who we all love like a brother, already.  She should be into serious wedding/honeymoon planning mode.  So incredibly awful.

In the day that my sisters and I were there, we got to hear from doctors and nurses regarding her condition.  Some were more pessimistic than optimistic and vice-versa.  Regardless of her diagnosis, it was determined that she would have to stay in the hospital for several days due to the IV steroids that she was receiving which, luckily, were helping to bring the feeling back to her leg.  She also had to have a lumbar puncture (or "spinal tap") to rule out all other possible diagnoses, but would not receive those results for at least a week.

I wish that I could have stayed with her longer, but I am glad that my husband was able to watch the baby so that I could go and give her some support when she really needed it.  So now we just wait for a more "official" diagnosis.  For now, my sister is feeling tired and frustrated, but at least she is home and continuing to recover from whatever she may have (or have had).

Me being the person that I am did some research on MS and I learned quite a few things about it.  I figured that it was a death sentence and a condition that, at the least, would lead a person to not be able to use their limbs, eventually.  What I found was that that is simply not true.  The National MS Society has a ton of great information and in my 15 minutes of reading on their site, I learned quite a bit.

I am still hopeful that maybe this was a one time thing and that the conclusive medical results will NOT point to MS.  If it turns out that it is, I am sure that my sister will be ok.  She is a very strong girl.  She may have to change a few things up, but she'll be fine.  I know it.