If I had a do-over

When Matt and I got married, our five-year plan did not include a child. Perhaps a pregnancy at the very end of that five years, but not a baby. Our plan included a lot of working to pay off our student loans, a lot of travel to see the world, and a lot of "just us" time. About a year after we got married, we reevaluated our five-year plan and spent countless hours thinking and talking about moving up our offspring timeline. No, my clock wasn't ticking. No, I don't have health problems that forced us to hurry. No, we did not have baby fever. Instead, we were faced with the reality of immortality. Not our own, but of those we loved. We decided that we wanted to give a gift of ourselves before it was too late. We did the math, ran the numbers, and decided on the timeline. Our plan went off without a hitch. We have been able to bring undeniable joy to so many people with our child.

But sometimes, on days like today, I think about a do-over

I think we should have waited longer so we'd have more financial stability. I think we should have seen more places before having to handle a child. I think we needed more time to solidify our marriage before we needed to be such an important example to a developing heart and head.

And then I look down at my baby boy.

And I know that a do-over isn't necessary. I wouldn't change a thing. Today, I am exhausted. My house could use a serious cleaning. I've got more work to do in the next 24 hours than I could do in 72 hours. Yet, I wouldn't change a thing. I couldn't give up Thomas's smiles. Or his silly coos that are so close to giggles. I couldn't lose that tingle I feel whenever I see Matt holding his child. I don't want to change anything about the moments Thomas and I share first thing in the morning when he goes from deep sleep to wide awake and ready to play.

Our new five-year plan is similar to our first one. We paid off one of my student loans last week. We're making plans to go to San Diego (with Thomas) in the fall. We are more in love now than ever before. Our hope was to bless others with Thomas while we still could. I think we've done that. We've also blessed ourselves. Life may be harder now than we had planned, but goodness, it sure is sweeter.

Two months



Know what's crazy? My sweet baby boy is two months old. Well, a bit older than that now seeing as how I waited a week before posting this. It seems like the past two months have flown by, yet so much has happened!

 

Thomas now weighs 11 pounds and 4 ounces! He's 23 inches long. Zero to three month clothes (with an occasional newborn), size one diapers. Still sleeping in the rock-n-play beside our bed. He eats at least every 3 hours during the day but on-demand as well. Typically goes to bed about 10, wakes up around 3, and then wakes up again around 6.

 

He smiled his first real smile on June 15 at me, his mommy. Since then, he's been a smiling fool!! No giggles yet but I expect them any day now.

 

He still grabs the tops of his ears to comfort himself. It's completely adorable. Annoying when we tried to see his face on ultrasounds, but now adorable.

 

His hands are open more and more. He grabs thin things, like my hair, his clothes, and thin blankets. Hasn't shown any interest in batting at toys though. Soon, I'm sure.

 

Tummy time is the devil. He does not like it now. He rarely holds his head up when he is on is stomach but holds it up and looks around like crazy when he is held or is on his stomach on our chests.

 

He makes noise all day long. All. day. Even when he is asleep he is snoring. When he is awake, he makes adorable happy noises, regular noises, and frustrated noises.

 

His two month shots were awful. Awful. He was majorily unhappy for about 24 hours. We broke down and gave him tylenol.

 

This month, he saw both sets of grandparents, Aunts Marla, Laura, and Whitney, Uncles Nick and Drew; met his godmother and godfather; and went to his first birthday party.

 

Happy TWO months, Thomas!!

 

 

 

One month

June 6th was the day that our little boy turned a month old. I still can't believe it. It feels like the past month has zoomed by. It has certainly been a month filled with new things (even if it hasn't been filled with much sleep...).

Things about Thomas at one month old:

-  He is about 22 inches long
-  Weighs about 8 pounds
-  Sleeps about 4 hours at a time at night
-  LOVES tummy time
-  Isn't real keen on bath time, but likes it better now that he can bathe in a big boy tub.
-  He has a great T-Rex impression
-  Chews on his fingers all. day. long.
-  He wears Newborn diapers but is finally fitting in 0-3 month clothes
-  loves to sleep on his side (but mommy won't let him for long)
-  So. gassy.
-  Still has the sneezes several times a day and hiccups like nobody's business.
-  Eats about every three hours
-  Has been rocked to sleep by his great grandmother!
-  Likes to nap on his daddy's chest
-  Takes a bottle like a champ. Just once a day for now.
-  Usually likes to be swaddled
-  Is slowly stretching out his arms and legs more often
-  Sleeps with his arms up at naptime and when he breaks out of the swaddle
-  Sleeps in a bassinet beside Mommy at night
-  Too big for the napper in the pack and play
-  Has pretty considerable neck strength for just a month
-  Likes to look at himself in mirrors
-  Likes the light but as long as it isn't too bright

eep growing, little man!


I just threw in this next picture. Every year for our anniversary, Matt and I take a picture with our wedding picture. The first year, it was in our backyard. Last year, it was with our moving truck. This year, it was with Thomas. What a different a year makes.

Three years

Today marks the third anniversary of our wedding. It's hard to believe that it has only been three years when so much has happened since that incredibly hot day in 2011. We've started two careers, bought a house, bought a car, been blessed with the sweetest little boy, walked thousands of miles, shed more than a few tears, lost loved ones, laughed uncontrollably, swam with sharks, ate gelato while tossing coins in the Trevi Fountain, made new friends, and loved unconditionally. At times, our wedding day seems like it was just yesterday. But most of the time, I feel like we've been together since the beginning of time. I guess, in a way, we have.

Happy anniversary, Matt. I love you more than words can say.

An Excerpt From a Baby Journal: The Beginning

May 12, 2014.

 

Thomas. You are here. In fact, you’ve been here for a week. You were born on May 6, 2014 at 5:07 p.m. You weighed six pounds and 14 ounces, were 20 inches long, and came out crying.  Because I am sure you want to know, here’s how you came into the world:

 

I woke up early on the 6^th to use the bathroom. I know, you really want to hear this part. I didn’t check the time. I did notice that I was soaking wet. Like, all of me. I blamed it on my hormones and thought that I had just sweated a lot. I changed my clothes and went back to bed. About 5:15 a.m., I woke up again to use the bathroom and noticed that my clothes were wet again. I tested my blood sugar because I was up for the day and then waited until 5:30 for your daddy’s alarm clock to go off. I woke him up and told him that I was pretty certain that my water had broken. He agreed with me and then jumped in the shower. I called our doctor’s answering service and waited for the on call OB to call me back. When she did, she told me to go ahead and head to the hospital but that I could freshen up first. I showered, dried, and straightened my hair. Your daddy got dressed for work, asked me if he could go to work, and then sent out some emails after I told him that he could not drive the three-hour round trip to go to work when I was pretty certain that we were about to have a baby. Your daddy did lots of little chores while I was getting ready and by about 6:40, we were on the way to the hospital. We got there at 7:00 a.m. and were in the labor and delivery room by 9:00 a.m.  The doctor on call for our OB (our OB was in Disney World) came in and gave the orders to start Pitocin and the okay for me to walk around while we waited. The nurse, Kristen, hooked me up to fancy telemetry monitors and let me walk and use a medicine ball. The Pitocin was increased every thirty minutes until about 12:30 or 1:00 p.m.  Once I was half-way to you, I asked for an epidural. About thirty minutes later, they gave me the injection. I couldn’t feel much sensation from the top of my stomach down. I certainly couldn’t feel contractions. Your grandparents, Nana and Poppa, arrived about that time and gave for a visit. While they were visiting, your heart rate dropped a bit low and I was started on oxygen to help bring it back up. After about 5 minutes on the O2, you were back to normal and the mask came off. Soon after, your other grandparents, Yaya and Pap, arrived. We visited for a little while until the doctor came by to check on you. All the grandparents stepped out but Nana and Poppa left the hospital to come back to our house and check on the dogs. The doctor found that I had progressed a good bit farther than expected and called in the delivery team. After just a few minutes and about two minutes of pushing, you were here. I couldn’t feel myself pushing, but I could hear the staff telling me about your progression. The doctor told me you were here. I cried, naturally, but I had a huge smile on my face. Your daddy cut your cord, the staff cleaned you up, and then I held your little body in my arms until I had to give you back.

 

Shortly after that, our family got to come see you before we went to our recovery room. The first person through the door was your Aunt Marla!! I didn’t think she was coming because she had to work and had been sending her updates and pictures of the room during the day. She drove down four hours to see you during your first few hours and woke up incredibly early the next day to drive back. She’ll be the one who will give you anything you want. Just wait and see. Your grandparents also came back in and later, once we were in recovery, your Uncle Drew and Aunt Whitney came to see you.

 

You were perfect.  Still are perfect. The most beautiful baby that I have ever seen. And I’m not just saying that because you are ours. Now, if we could skip right to the sleeping through the night phase, I’d be down for that in a heartbeat.

 

Thomas, we are so glad that you are here. We are exhausted, but eternally glad. You were prayed for until we knew you were coming and then you were prayed for even more. We won’t stop praying for you. Give your daddy and I time to get this whole parenting thing figured out. I’m sure we’ll make a dent in it around the time you have kids. In the meantime, we’ll take it one three-hour block at a time.  We love you, Hutson Thomas. Always will.

 

 

When a hastag won't do

One of the things I love about Instagram is that I get to come up with phrases to put behind a hashtag. I'm not sure if I'm correctly using hashtags and Instagram, but I certainly get a kick out of thinking of them. Sometimes they are standard. I try to always do something related to Giselle or a puppy or a dog or something like that when I post a picture of Giselle. I try to include a hashtag that will make people smile if I can. If I'm really lucky, I can include a little phrase that makes me laugh out loud. Those are my favorite. It doesn't matter if other people laugh out loud, only me. I like to laugh.

But who doesn't?

As a general rule of thumb, the phrases behind hashtags aren't supposed to be super long. They should be somewhat explanatory, but not so long that they take up the whole line. Recently I've taken some pictures that I would have LOVED to share with the world, but the hashtag would have been too long. Or, and I'm not going to lie, I would have been ugly to post them. Because I know the people who actually read this blog, I feel like I am a bit less likely to offend people if I post those pictures here, along with a lengthy description of the picture and maybe not the nicest hashtags.

This one may be obvious. It's a tape measure. Around my stomach. I know what you are thinking, 'what's she got under there, a pillow?' No pillow, just a baby. A woman asked me a few days ago if I was carrying twins. Seriously. I'm so not even big for 37, almost 38 weeks. Granted, it may have something to do with how chocolate makes me sick and I'm restricted on what other things I can eat but still, I'm not that large. Certainly not large enough for twins. The lady then told me that she couldn't believe that my husband let me outside at 37 weeks. I'm pretty certain she has a habit of sticking her foot in her mouth. #rude #atleastmynailsarepaintedforthepicture #babyinside #ishouldnothavemeasured 

So. I got all the boxes and assorted small things put away and declared the nursery done. I ran in the living room to have Matt come look. After he finished seeing the finished product, I made him sit in the rocking chair with a loosely swaddled cabbage patch doll to pretend that he was actually rocking his own baby. At first, he was all mushy. Then, I got out my phone. His eyes rolled up and the frown came. It was funny enough to text but not to share with the world. Now you get to see it! #whenthehubbsainthappy #cabbagepatchfromthefarm #thedollaintgotshoesbuthehasclothes #atleast20yearsold #rockingchairneedstobealittlewider

 

Here's my mean post. This house is on my walking route. I see it twice a day (unless the weather is inclement and I am forced to the treadmill). For months now I've admired the flower beds (that you really can't see in this little picture) and composed-enough-for-southern-living look. I've imagined a retired lady slaving away in her yard to make it beautiful. Sun hat, little bag of yard tools, and gloves. About two weeks ago, I see a yard crew in the yard. INCLUDING THE FLOWER BEDS. I was livid. I still am. Like, so mad. My vision was wrong. #notgoodenoughforsouthernliving #whoamikidding #southernlivingdontcare #itisstillpretty #butinowipictureslaves #alagonewiththewind

 

Okay, I'm done. I better go wash the dishes before my husband comes home... Or my baby comes. 

Revising my plans

You know how sometimes life just stinks? Sometimes things just don't go as planned or you didn't have a plan and should have. I had a plan for our first pregnancy. Granted, our timeline was moved up a bit after one too many confrontations with mortality, but still, we had a plan.  You know what they say about plans though, right? Yeah.

This pregnancy hasn't been smooth sailing. In fact, it has been hard. I haven't loved being pregnant. I feel guilty just thinking that, but it is true. I am thankful every day that we were able to conceive quickly and that there haven't been any problems with the baby's development or my um, gestational habitat. Let me tell you, nine months of morning sickness is hard. It would have been impossible in a regular workplace. We don't have carpet in our house. At first, I thought that was a bad thing but lemme tell you, we'd have to replace every inch of it had we had carpet.

Anyway.

The latest hardship has certainly been the gestational diabetes. At first, the guilt and the fear. Guilt that I had done something wrong. That I hadn't been eating well, or exercising enough, or thinking enough happy thoughts. Fear that I would need a c-section, that I would have real diabetes after having the baby, and fear that our baby would be born with blood sugar problems. After lots and lots of talking, listening, whining, reading, and thinking, I know that the guilt was misplaced. It wasn't my fault. Yes, I could have been healthier when we got pregnant but there is no guarantee that the GD wouldn't have presented itself. After all, I did pretty much give up sweets about three months in since it would aggravate the morning sickness. I still have some fear. Right now, it looks like a c-section won't be necessary. If I lose the baby weight plus about ten pounds, I'm less likely to end up with diabetes. I will have to commit to an exercise program and healthy eating habits but frankly, I need to do that anyway. After exercising for at least an hour every day for the past three months, I think I can swing a 4 or 5 day a week exercise program. As far as potential problems for Thomas, I can't do a thing more about that now. I'm eating with my plan. I'm exercising. I plan to breastfeed. We'll just have to wait and see. And know that if problems do arise, it isn't the end of the world. We'll adjust and adapt. Plans are made to be tweaked, right?