My Weight Battle

I've been wanting to write this post for a long time, but wasn't sure exactly what to say.  This morning as I was getting ready and battling the demons in my head if I should return to Weight Watchers today, I decided it's a good time to write out some thoughts.

As far back as I can remember I've been battling with my weight.  I could blame a lot of things from genetics to what we just didn't know about food 20 years ago, but that's useless now.  The fact that it's been a battle for pretty much my whole life is what leads me to now.

Now, in my early 30s, married, with two children and a life that never stops, I wonder is it really worth it to get back into my old jeans?  I eat healthy, these days 90% vegetarian, I exercise, I am good about including fruits, whole grains and mostly foods without any additives or chemicals in them.  My husband loves me for me, my kids don't see fat or skinny, they just see Mommy.  And at this point in my life a glass of wine 5 nights a week is something I enjoy, regardless of the carbs and calories that come with it.  So as long as things that are going in my body are healthy and I have a healthy lifestyle, why worry how much I weigh?  Is it my perception when I look in the mirror?  Is it the perception of others?  Of the media?  I wish I knew the answer to these questions...

I wish that I could magically be one of those curvier girls totally proud of how I look.  I wish I could be one of those moms blogging posts about my stretch marks and everything kids have done to my body and stating how beautiful it is.  I agree with these people, but unfortunately the demons within me don't allow me to be proud of that about my own body.  I look at others and think they're beautiful, I look at myself and find every inch of something wrong with me.

Let's talk a little bit about the actual food.  I LOVE FOOD.  In our house, with our families and with most of our friends, FOOD = HAPPINESS.  I love trying new foods at home or while traveling.  I love the happiness that being with a large group of people and just sharing a great meal brings.  Gossiping with some girlfriends having a few drinks and of course a great meal is my idea of an awesome night out.  I love introducing my kids to new foods and foods from my childhood.  Food is social.  Food is experiencing different cultures.  The textures, the taste, they all define good food.  Food is what makes a regular party a great party.

Now that we've established many of the reasons I love food, let's talk about the demons again.  Every piece of food and every ounce of liquid that goes in my body I have some sort of thought about.  Mostly guilt.  I beat myself up over splurging.  I enjoy food but instantly feel remorse, regret, hatred.  I have no will power so I struggle going places with people who get to eat whatever they want while I order a plain salad with the dressing on the side.  I am also not one of those people who "forgets" to eat.  Who just sees food as another task in the day.  Who can only take one small spoonful and then be full.

So what am I going to do about all of this?  I actually wish I had the answer to that.  Unfortunately at this point in my life a lot of these thoughts are ingrained into my personality, so changing them is hard.  For today, for now, I think I will go back to Weight Watchers today and travel down the counting and measuring path again.  At some point I'll hopefully fit back into some older pants and not look in the mirror and see as many things to nitpick so I can have a balance of a healthier weight with a healthier lifestyle.  Knowing how much of a battle this has been my whole life, I know it'll continue to be a battle for the rest of my life...

Working Mom

There's been so many articles circulating on my Mommy sites about Working Moms vs. Stay at Home Moms. I don't get why people argue which is better and bicker back and forth about who works harder. My take on it is slightly different. Currently, and for the last 10 years, I am the breadwinner in our family. In the last 5 years I am the only one with an income while my husband is in his final year of school trying to build a better career for himself and a more stable life for our family. Because of this, there has never been a question of "if" I could be a stay at home mom.

 My theory isn't that one or the other is better, my theory is some people are cut out for one or the other. It's a job in itself and just like I'm good at my job, a SAHM is equally good at her job. For as long as I can remember I didn't want to be in school, I wanted to work. I'm good at working, I like working, I like being surrounded by awesome people and working for a great company. I'm good at it. I am not so good at being a stay at home mom. I love spending time with my kids, but I lack the patience you need to be able to deal with kids for 12-13 hours a day. I could never do what a stay at home mom does and I feel like their jobs are thankless.

Just because I work doesn't mean I don't suffer from some of the SAHM woes. I know how it feels to clean for hours and it looks as if you've done nothing. I know how it feels to be ENDLESSLY exhausted whether you have a newborn, toddler or child. I know how it feels to just want to walk out of your house and scream at the top of your lungs from the insanity of just trying to get your 4-year-old dressed. I know how it feels to always be behind on school activities and events (my kid wore sweatpants on picture day). I'm the mom who pays all of the bills, makes the grocery lists, makes all of the doctors and dentists appointments, organizes the kids closets and clothes and many other things, including running my own side business. The point being that even though I'm a working mom, I'm still involved like a stay at home mom. My job allows me to be flexible to make it to special events, appointments or to just stay home when one of my kids aren't feeling well.

My kids don't love me any less for being a working mom. They may not understand it at this point in their young lives, but one day they will. I always understood that my parents had to work so we could have money for groceries and for living. I was a latchkey kid, part of carpools, hung out at friend's houses after school. I never thought my parents loved me any less. If anything it taught me that you have to work hard to support your family. What I've come to realize is some people believe that being a working mom means you don't love your children, but in reality, being able to provide them with food, shelter and fun things to do is how I love and take care of them.

*Side note: This goes for stay-at-home Dads too. :-)

The Season of Giving or Guilt?

This week I've been overwhelmed by so many people who have given to me and my children for this Holiday season. So many surprises like a gift card to take Olivia to see a movie, handmade jewelry, a handmade chalkboard serving tray I've been wanting, yummy homemade treats...the list goes on and on.

Not only is it the season of GIVING, but it's also the season of GUILT.  Yes, guilt over eating and gaining the few pounds back I just lost, but also the guilt of not being able to buy for everyone, especially everyone that gives to us.  As I've mentioned in previous posts this is Jeff's 5th Christmas not working full time so he can finish school and pursue a better career and a life that will afford us to save for our retirement and put our children through school.  Every year I've had to get creative with my time and my budget to make sure that at least our family (parents/grandparents/aunts, etc.) are able to open something on Christmas day and also that it's something special.  We're typically not able to give them more than 1 or 2 things and because of this I also cannot buy for my friends.

Who has "Giving Guilt?"  What does that even mean?  For me it means the act of feeling guilty when someone gifts to me or my family but I cannot give to them.  Based on my past experience with certain people who've been in and out of my life, there are certain individuals who actually DO expect a gift in return when they give to you.  They apparently also think money grows on trees and since they have some and have never struggled, it doesn't even occur to them that others may not be as fortunate as they are.  I'm sure Santa can also deliver a Unicorn if you want one bad enough.

So what does the Holiday Season mean to me besides the added pounds on my hips and the guilt of not being able to give?  The Holidays for me are a time to step away from our every day routines and just spend time with the people we love.  For my family that usually includes a lot of yummy foods, alcohol, traditions new and old, lots of pictures, quite a few movies and LOTS of laughter.  I grew up spending every Christmas Eve with a big family with lots of great food and laughter and these are the traditions I'll be passing onto my children.

I spoke to a close friend and even if she doesn't know it yet, a mentor. She simply told me that all that matters "is that you love people and yourself. There is no price tag...there is no amount of anything in this world that compares. You have to remember that the person gifting is gifting themselves just by the act alone. People never know how much you care until you show them how much [and] that doesn't come in form of a gift...It shows in actions...in loyalty...in truth."

She's right. If someone is going to get hung up on the fact that I can't give a gift back to them, then are they really worth it? Sometimes with people in our life we don't have a choice to write them off, they could be family or people you work closely with, but maybe you just don't invest any more in that relationship if this is their attitude.

Will this stop me from feeling guilty next year? I don't know. But I do know that I don't feel worthy of all of these gifts so I will work extra hard next year to be the best person I can be to show these people that all year long I have something to give back.

Happy Holidays from all of us to you.

Narcissism

I feel like it wasn't until my 30s when I could sort through the personalities I often (or sometimes not-so-often) interact with in life. I really thought everything was more black and white and that every person was a good person inside. If they weren't being a good person to me then maybe they were just having a tough time, or maybe they just didn't like ME and I was the common factor. With some people it's taken me years to figure out the root of why they are the way they are and in the end, stop blaming myself.

As long as I can remember I always wanted people to like me. Ultimately it's the driving factor in why I still talk to people I don't care for, but it's also the reason why I strive to be the best of the best. I want people to like my [photography] work, so I am careful with detail and make sure everything's perfect before delivery. I want people to like the quality of work I put out at my day-job and to know I'm reliable and a hard worker. But I also want people to like me in my personal life. I strive hard to be the friend I would like to have for myself. Someone who is reliable (not flaky), someone who can be there when it's a tough time, but also there to be silly and have fun times. I know what it feels like to have people leave you all alone when you really just need someone to talk to. I think this empathetic personality has also brought myself and some people closer.

Because I strive to be this way, it's been hard for me to understand the concept of people who are all about themselves. In fact I didn't even know it existed really until recently. And with this I don't mean people who look in the mirror and say "I look awesome." I'm talking about people who have no regard or care for others because they can't see past themselves; AKA a Narcissist. Unfortunately most narcissists (actually probably all) don't know that they are this way. They don't see themselves as the common denominator and believe it has to be the people around them. They are not self-sacrificing, they don't understand that everyone has different circumstances in their job...in their life...whatever it may be. They only see how it effects them. Wikipedia states one of the traits as the "inability to view the world from the perspective of other people." Makes sense because that's how I live my life at least 90% of the time.

Unfortunately because I'm empathetic, people who are narcissists are successful in making me feel guilty and are able to convince me to do things (like spend money I don't have) to keep them happy. It's hard to be honest with a narcissist because they don't see why it just can't be their way. That definitely goes along another trait Wikipedia lists: "using other people without considering the cost of doing so." You can't always assume that other people are in the same position as you. Being kind, be caring and also be courteous...think of someone else besides YOURSELF and what you want. If we all got what we wanted and every decision that was made in life was ours, then what the hell are we working for? Why do we have friends and family?

The other thing I've noticed about some narcissists is that they're FAKE. They like things to be for "show" and not for real. They'd rather pretend that everything is perfect than actually deal with the issues at hand. They blame others instead of just owning their mistakes. They don't like when people question them or have another idea that is not theirs, so they will in turn hate you and think every little thing you do is malicious. They are flattered by people who reaffirm them and stick close to those people so it feeds into their ego. Wiki again: "Flattery towards people who admire and affirm them." Why hang around people who know your game and don't let you always do what you want, when you can go hang with someone who always tells you how awesome you are? You can NEVER question a narcissist because even if you're using the nicest, sweetest voice/text/email, they will still see it as questioning their being. How dare you question them?

It is interesting though. Some of these people do ask me how I am doing, what's going on in my life, my business, my work. Whether they're actually listening and interested I'm not sure...they could just be fake. But that's fine. What gets me is spending time with someone who never asks me how I'm doing. Granted my life is far from exciting but it gets old being the person who has to ask all of the questions. Some of the narcissistic people I've met I also get a sense of "entitlement" oozing from their self-centered soul. I think the entitlement is also the recognition and admiration they strive for. They are selfish: "I did this for you, now what are you going to do for me?" Whereas I believe in the golden rule of doing unto others as you would have others do unto you. Relationships are 50/50 but in times of tragedy, grief, stress, etc. the ratio may change for a bit and then go back to 50/50.

The reason for this post...well...there's many...but one of them being that it's holiday time it reminded me of how gifts are very important for some people and not so much for others. That constant pressure of getting out holiday cards, making sure I've gotten gifts for everyone, making sure it all arrives or is wrapped and ready on time...it's horrible. This will be our 5th Christmas with Jeff not employed full-time. The expectation (sometimes from the narcissistic people) is that I will still have a gift for them. Why? Because they love getting gifts and to not send a gift means you don't care. What they really don't know is, I don't want or need a gift either. I just don't understand this cycle of "I'm going to get you a gift, so you get me one." What's the point? I don't measure how much people care about me from a card or a gift. I measure it by the good times we have together, the laughter we share, how much you care for my children and show them love...how much you love me even though my house is a mess and my kids are screaming their heads off...how you don't care that I need to eat dinner by 7 because I have to go to bed by 11 to get up with the kids...the fact that wine and takeout is a perfectly acceptable night because it's cheap and fun...the fact that you tell me thank you when I cook for you, drive you somewhere, help YOU out too... There's an ecard going around online that says that true friends/family you don't need to talk to all the time, you just pick up where you left off last time and that could be a year or two later. I completely agree.

I have much more to say about this but I'm going to end it here. My budget is blown and I have tons of responsibilities to tend to tonight, but it's one of my good friend's birthdays and I'm going to put that aside to be there for her and take her out to dinner. She's been there for me time and time again and loves me and my family no matter what circumstances we're under. It's my turn to be there for her and celebrate her.

Cheers, Meg

Wikipedia References

Perfectionism: A blessing or a curse?

I've often wondered if the OCD Perfectionist in me is the reason why I've always been drawn to photography. Photography is a work of art and just like musicians feel like they could have played or sung a lyric better, and actors feel they could have read a line better, photographers often feel like every shot could have been better. Or at least most of them.

Every day we often feel less than who we are "supposed" to be. Who sets these expectations for us? Other people. I have this constant battle of being less than perfect, especially when it comes to parenting. I swore my kids would eat all-organic, never watch too much Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, would never eat a ton of sweets...and all of that completely went to hell once I realized how hard (and how expensive) it is to raise children while working full time and also being a wife, friend, daughter, etc. And somewhere along the way I lost myself and in the past 5 years I've taken a journey to find myself again, but in that process I had to accept that I'm not perfect.

It's hard accepting that you're not perfect when you feel like every day you're surrounded by perfect people who just ooze their awesomeness. This includes comparing yourself to very seasoned photographers, even though you know you shouldn't be, because frankly, everyone had to start somewhere. When I learn something new or strive to get better at something I've been doing for a while, I always want to be the best of the best and I'm hard on myself when I'm not. It often makes me feel like I've failed. Especially since your customer is expecting great results for the amount of money they've paid.

From a shoot I did this past weekend
So when it comes to Photography, is Perfectionism a Blessing or a Curse? How long do you spend touching up the most minute defect on a photo? How long do you kick yourself because that perfect smile came out just a little blurry? The answer is I don't know. I guess more importantly is that I've found something that I feel like I can say I'm good at that actually allows me to use this curse of perfectionism as a blessing.

Meg

Four Years (another kid, a new house and the startup of my business) Later

I can't believe it's been 4 years since I sat here and wrote a post. My passion for writing had been non-stop since I was 19 until the beauty and challenges of parenthood took over every aspect of my life. I once wrote, read books, watched movies and slept 9 hours a night (11 on weekends). Now? Not so much. Actually, not at all.

Four years later we have another beautiful daughter, Isabella, and she will be turning 1 year old tomorrow. Her pregnancy was rough because I was high risk (as most of you know since Olivia was almost 6 weeks early). Her first few months were rough too including one trip to the ER and 6 days in the hospital because she caught one of Olivia's colds at 3 weeks old.

One year later I'm working on building my photography career, maintaining my current career as a Business Analyst and also being a full time Mommy, Daughter and Wife. Juggling these days seems more like I'm just surviving. Each day passes so quickly and this year has flown by quicker than any other in my life.

About a year ago when Jeff got accepted to nursing school I realized that when he reaches his goal and we're finally financially stable, I need to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life. Of course I'd be happy to stay where I'm currently working (if they want me) but I didn't spend all of those years in school to be a Business Analyst. At this point a year ago I decided to set myself a 10 year goal of finally running a photography business out of my home.

About 7 months ago I decided to just start photographing people, really, for the first time in my life. Honestly my passion is travel and landscape photography, but not many married-mom's-of-2 can make a career out of traveling for a living. Sure, I'd taken pictures of people before, but it was in passing and I hadn't really tried. In my opinion portrait photography is one of the hardest because you have to deal with lighting and shadows, which is challenging when you don't quite have the money to build a business yet.

Because I learn very well visually and from trial and error I just decided to start studying photographs on Pinterest and then practicing on my kids and anyone else who wanted to be my guinea pig. Since April I've already done 8 successful shoots for several friends. Each time I've learned something different with shooting or with editing. I'm beginning to get more comfortable as people are happy with the results. My portfolio used to just include Macro, Landscape and Travel Photography and it now also includes...Maternity, Birth, Newborn, Family and Headshots. Not bad for less than a year of work.

My next steps for the end of 2013 and for 2014 and beyond?

1.) Begin blogging again (check!)
2.) Launch a website
3.) Book more clients
4.) Get an indoor lighting "kit"
5.) Get a backdrop stand


...beyond...


1.) Get a bigger, better, faster, clearer computer (iMac)
2.) Turn the baby's room into my office


I look forward to sharing my journey with you!
- Meg

PS. A shout-out to Chanel for letting me know at least one person read my blog posts. I knew I needed to get going again for not only my career, but ME, and you've kicked my butt into gear. xoxo.

9 weeks, 6 days...

Our long road with infant reflux is continuing. She started to show a very very slight improvement on the Prilosec, but shortly after we went to see the GI Specialist. He decided to move her to 10mgs (5mgs 2times daily) of Prevacid solutabs and ordered an endoscopy to look at her esophagus. We started the Prevacid on October 8th and went in for the endoscopy on October 9th. The endoscopy showed severe thrush (yeast) on her throat, esophagus and stomach, which would explain why she was screaming through every feeding from pain. We started 1ml of Nystatin plus a cheek swab 4 times per day on October 9th. By October 10th when we went to the pumpkin patch, we were already seeing improvement from the Prevacid. Each subsequent day we saw more and more improvement including her first smile (October 11th), giggle, coo and signs of her noticing every color and light near or around her. She started looking and studying us, doing well in her car seat, bouncer and swing and even laid in her crib for the first time for about an hour. By October 14th you could hardly tell she even had reflux anymore. That night we put her in her room in her swing to sleep the night by herself (instead of on us) for the first time. She made it from 10 - 6am (with feedings included) by herself. It seemed going into the weekend and my birthday that we were on the road to recovery and ready to finally start our lives together as a happy healthy family.

On my 29th bday we started giving her half of her bottles with the powder version of Good Start and half still the ready-to-feed. That night she even slept from 11 - 5a without waking up (in her swing too!) which was huge for her. All seemed to be going well until Sunday night, the 18th, when she started having flare ups. Flare ups are common with reflux babies so I didn't think anything of it until it progressively got worse. Her quiet long nights in her swing were no longer and she kept grunting and groaning in pain.

Today is October 20th and it's only about 10 days later than our first great day at the Pumpkin patch and we are now right back at the starting line where we were about 2 weeks ago. At 3am last night I moved her back to all ready-to-feed formula fearing that she was just not handling the change to the powder well. I wish it was that simple, but if she wasn't handling the powder well, then why did it take her over 48 hours to have reflux symptoms associated with it? I've been told her dose of Prevacid is too low for her age and weight, but why did it work for a week and then just stop? She couldn't have gained more than an ounce or two in 1 week, so it can't be her weight. I've put in an email to her GI doc and I'm waiting to hear back about where we go from here.

At her last doctor's appointment on 10/12 when she got her 2 month shots she weighed 8lbs, 9.8oz and was 20 and 3/4 inches long. Her hair seems to be getting lighter and her eyebrows and eyelashes are now fully in. She's laughed twice (in my presence), smiles, coos, and loves to watch TV (baby Einstein, cartoons) and the ceiling fan. She sometimes reacts to being tickled and loves Elliott the elephant and another blue elephant she has that remains nameless. She's also really entertained by her baby Einstein gym. She lifts her head and holds it up for at least a few seconds. She gets frustrated because she wants to crawl, flip, move, but can only slide herself up.
Aside from the reflux her biggest issue is with burping. She doesn't eat as much as she wants to because we can't get her to burp. Then she continually gets hungry 1.5-2.5 hours later. We've tried many "holds" to get her to burp and sometimes they work, but most of the time they don't. Plus it's not good to move a reflux baby all over the place because it just causes flare ups. So depending on the feeding she's eating anywhere from 2 - 4oz, but hovers mostly around 3. Some late night feedings when she's sleepy and doesn't feel good she will take as little as 1.5 and every once in a while has a spike and eats 4.5. About once a day she goes 4 hours between a feeding, but pretty much still sticks to the every 3 hour rule. On October 17th she ate the most she ever has, 5.5oz.

She's finally comfortably fitting into her 0-3 month outfits. Bye-bye newborn clothes and diapers! She still hates her infant seat but as of last week when she was her happiest she could tolerate her bouncer for about 20-30 mins. She didn't like sleeping in her crib but I suspect it's because she can't be on her back (she just gets herself all upset and ends up sliding down off of the wedge we have in there to help her). We were going to try crib sleep training again in another couple of weeks, but with her condition taking a downturn, we've obviously decided to wait. And finally, she likes taking a bath! She's made it through the past 3 baths without crying or screaming!

So that's where we are now at 10 weeks!

7 weeks, 3 days old...

It's been a rough five weeks for Olivia and us. At three weeks, right around the first of September, we started noticing that she was having issues associated with spit up that didn't seem normal. On the second of September we had an appointment with the pediatrician and Olivia had jumped from 4lbs, 8oz to 5lbs, 4oz, so the doc had us take her off of Similac Neosure (which she'd been on for preemie weight gain). We continued to use it for a couple of days to finish off the bottles we had and by the last night on it she was projectile spitting up at least 2 tablespoons full. The next day we switched to Similac Advance Early Shield (to provide her with the immunities she needed for being a preemie) and we also put her on Gripe Water. It seemed a little better, but it seemed like she was still having some issues. I called the advice nurse and they told me what she was experiencing was normal. We continued on the Early Shield until she was 5 weeks, 1 days old. The Early Shield began giving her horrible gas to the point where she was up screaming most of the night. The gas drops and tummy massages didn't seem to help, so we moved her to the Enfamil Gentlease powder. One bottle down her gas was completely gone, but suddenly the spit up issue got worse. And she wasn't even really spitting up, but the spit up would make it into her throat and then it sounded like she was swallowing it back. At her 1 month follow-up with the pediatrician on September 18th I brought up that she seemed to be having issues and the doc recommended Enfamil AR or Nutramigen. The Nutramigen was so expensive we went with the AR but had to blend it with the Gentlease so her gas wouldn't come back. It seemed to work okay, but her symptoms persisted and the AR also gave her horrible constipation. She began screaming every time she had to go to the bathroom. We added 1 tsp of Kara Syrup (3x daily) and some water (1-2 times daily) to help with the constipation (it worked ok).
At this point I began doing more reading online and started noticing that a lot of things she did were actually symptoms of Infant Acid Reflux (Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease or GER/GERD) and not just normal baby noises. Her grunting, groaning, arching of the back, red squished up face, coughing, choking, gagging, extending her tongue in and out of her mouth, frequent hiccups (wet)...all are symptoms. As the days went on and she got used to the formula, her symptoms seemed to worsen. She went from making noises throughout the night and then falling back into a deep sleep, to choking on her spit up and swallowing it back down all throughout the night. At just after 6 weeks old she began sleeping on me most of the night. At this point we'd been feeding her upright and making her sleep upright for at least 2 weeks and we weren't sure what else we could do. I called the doctor and she called in a prescription for Cimetidine (0.3ml every 6 hours) but told me it was Prilosec. For a week I thought she was on Prilosec and was dissappointed that it wasn't working. At 6.5 weeks we switched her to Similac Alimentum to see if it was possibly an allergy or something in the formula she was sensitive too, but she didn't take well to it and her symptoms became more severe. However we did blend it for a day with the AR and she did great and then took a turn for the worse. I called after she'd been on the Cimetidine for 5 days and we hadn't seen any results and all the doctor did for us was up the dose by 0.1ml. Tired, frustrated and unsure what to do I called and requested to see another doctor.
On September 29th at 6 weeks, 6 days old Dr. Gereb was a welcome change. She really wanted to help and was willing to work with us to get her better. She told us to discontinue the Alimentum and AR and to put her on Gentlease with rice cereal and prescribed us Reglan (0.4ml every 4 hours) to take with the Cimetidine. She also told us to use Miralax 1-2 times a day (1/4 tsp) to help with her constipation (brought on by the AR formula). Within a half hour of her first dose of the Reglan she seemed to be so much better, but by 11pm that night, the side effects we'd been warned about started happening. She started flailing around and freaking out like she was hopped up on coffee. I went on to do further reading and found out that Reglan has been black boxed by the FDA for all of the permanent effects it has on kids (specifically involuntary movements - like flailing around) and there was pending litigation against the drug. After two doses we pulled her off. On just the rice cereal and Gentlease Olivia had the worst two days of her life. She hated the rice cereal, didn't want to drink it, and it was a nightmare to get out of the bottle (it clumped so bad we needed 6mo+ nipples). I pulled her off the rice cereal only 36 hours after she'd started it, began giving her the AR and Gentlease blend again and left the doc 3 emails.
At this point I started becoming a familiar "face" on the Reflux Rebels message board on babycenter.com. What a life saver these moms are! They have one or more children with GERD and all other related diseases (MSPI, colic) and seem to know more than both of Olivia's doctor's know about GERD, medications, etc.
The doc called me first thing in the morning and told me to take her off the cereal (already done) and the Cimetidine (useless anyways) and to keep her on the AR blend with the Gentlease and that we'd move her to Prilosec (compounded, 0.9ml 2x daily). I posted on my message board and was quickly told that the AR formula shouldn't be given with the Prilosec because it breaks down the drug. Nestle Good Start formula is what was recommended with the Prilosec. So at 7 weeks, 1 day she began Good Start Gentle Plus ready to feed formula and Prilosec. The doc said it should take a few days for the meds to work, but most of the moms I've talked to said it could take up to 2 weeks. The mom's also told me that we should give the medicine a half hour before for it to be more effective. The doc said to also give her Mylanta before each bottle to help soothe - this too breaks down PPI's (Prilosec) and can't be given within 4 hours before or after the meds.
At 7 weeks, 3 days our journey is still very difficult. Her symptoms are pretty severe. She fusses or cries a lot because of the pain or because it continues to come up her throat every few seconds (she'll swallow it and then it'll come right back up). She gags a lot and can't sleep in or on anything but us and her grandmas. It's beginning to come up her throat while she's trying to eat, so at 6 weeks she was eating nearly 4oz and now at 7 she's back down to 2-2.5oz (3 at a good feeding). She doesn't sleep soundly hardly at all anymore and she used to stay awake for 3-4 hours a day to just take in the world around her...now when she's awake, she's choking back acid or she's fussing and crying. Maybe 5 mins a day is she awake and content. If we put her down she gets anxious and upset, therefore making her reflux worse and then she's completely miserable until we pick her up again.
At 7 weeks, 1 day I let her sleep on her tummy most of the night (as scary as that was) and she did great, but then at 7 weeks 2 days I tried it again and she was refluxing all night long and in pain, so she ended up sleeping on me all night. I'm determined to keep her on the Good Start and Prilosec for 2 weeks to see if there's an improvement...plus I'm out of options by way of formula, unless we get a prescription for Neocate ($130 for 4 14oz cans), which the doc doesn't want to do just yet. The doc got us a referral to a GI doctor in Panorama City and we go see him on October 8th.
The emotional part of this has been harder for me than the physical part. Obviously I'm exhausted because I take care of a "sick" child most of the night and all day every day. I don't even get to shower most days until Jeff gets home. There's nights when I just cry uncontrollably because I can't do anything to help her and I'm afraid that we'll never find the right combination of meds and formula to make her feel better. These moms I talk to, it took some of them 8 or 9 months before they were able to find the right combination to make their children better. I try and stay positive that she doesn't have a deeper medical issue and like a lot of children with GER/GERD, she will grow out of it by 6-12 months. But in the past 4-5 weeks I've done countless hours of research and put her on her 7 formulas and three medications and at this point it's really hard to have hope. My mom keeps telling me not to give up hope and I don't unless I'm really down and at my lowest. What makes me cry the hardest is that at 7 weeks she should be exploring the world around her and learning how to play and except for poopy diapers, the occasional gas pains, or being hungry, she should be a happy baby. She's not happy and she can't do things normal babies do. We can't even take her anywhere or do anything unless we wait until at least a half hour after she eats (for her food to go down) and come back before her next feeding, and she still has flare ups the entire time we're out. She can't be fed out because she needs to be sat up and held completely still. I can't put her on her back to play in her Einstein Gym or to lay on a blanket at the park. She should be sleeping 4 hours between feedings (and so should we) and getting ready to transition to her crib in her own room. All of this just makes me bawl my eyes out. I naively thought that if she was born healthy then she'd be a healthy baby. I never thought about the "what ifs..." (partially because you make yourself crazy doing so) but now I'm thinking I should have. No one could have prepared me for how hard and challenging the past few weeks have been and how hard the next few weeks, months, maybe even years will be. She should be able to spend a few hours a day awake and content with playing or looking at things and she can't. When she's awake, she's miserable, when she's asleep, she's pretty miserable too. I can't even set her down on the floor on her blanket for 15 mins so I can eat dinner. She just starts choking and gagging. Dinner is a process every single night.
I think back over those 2 weeks after we brought her home from the NICU and about how hard I thought things were back then. How getting up every 3 hours for a feeding was difficult. I should have appreciated it more back then. I should have taken everyone's advice and slept when she slept. I can't sleep anymore when she sleeps because she's always sleeping on me and never soundly. Those days when we could just feed her and put her back down to go to sleep...what is that like? What is it like not having to sit her up for at least a half hour (especially in the middle of the night) and to just put her back down to go to sleep? What's it like actually getting an hour or two per night? I sleep in about 15 minute increments because when she falls asleep she's okay for about 10-15 mins and then starts grunting from the pain. What's it like to be able to just take your baby somewhere and not have to worry that it's getting close to feeding time and it's going to be too difficult to feed her and keep her sitting up? I can't dwell on the fact that she's not a normal newborn, but when I'm at my lowest, it just makes me feel even more down. I don't think I've felt this depressed, this defeated, this sad in at least 10 years.
As with all changes with Liv's food and meds, I'm staying really hopeful and really positive, but sometimes I just feel like saying "well nothing else has worked, this probably won't either!" We're 3 days into this and I say with lots of hope that this time next week we'll see at least a little bit of a difference.

34 weeks, 5 days...we had a baby!

I had planned on blogging on Tuesday, August 11th on my lunch break, but got caught up with work stuff and decided to do it the next day. Little did I know that I wouldn't be at work the next day...
My water broke at midnight on August 12th. At the time I literally just thought I'd lost control of my bladder and was peeing on myself. Seems stupid now, but I was half asleep and didn't quite understand what was going on. Every time I moved, my underwear got wet, so I finally called downstairs to Jeff and told him that I was pretty sure my water broke. I called the nurses station at the hospital just to ask their opinion and they told me to come in immediately.
Jeff and I ran around the house throwing last minute things in the hospital bag that we had just packed 3 days previously. Luckily I had a list that had a section for what to pack when it actually happened. I remember it took nearly a half hour because my brain couldn't process what was going on and I wanted to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything. I wasn't having contractions, so I wasn't in a huge hurry.
We left around 12:30 and got to the hospital somewhere around 1am. They put me in a gown and had me lay down in bed. They strapped on a fetal heart monitor and a monitor to track my contractions. They kept saying "you just had a contraction about 5 minutes ago, did you feel it?" No, apparently I didn't...I would continue to have them throughout the night, but not really feel them until close to 6am.
A midwife came in to exam me and said I was 2cm dilated, so they admitted me to the hospital. A doctor came in to take a sample of amniotic fluid so they could use it to test the baby's lungs. Needless to say, we never saw those results.
I called my parents at 2am and told them I was at the hospital and I'd been admitted. They immediately got up and booked a 6:30am flight. Jeff's parents quickly packed up a bunch of stuff and headed for the hospital as well.
I let Jeff get about 45 mins of sleep while I texted an emailed. I wasn't feeling contractions, just mild cramping, so there was nothing else to do! People would later make fun of me for this!
Somewhere around 6am the contractions started getting painful. They would start in my back and then move around to my front. I asked for IV drugs which they told me would last an hour. I put on my headphones and literally made it through 3 Daughtry songs before the pain came back with a vengeance. I was gripping onto the bed rails when the nurse came in and taught me how to breathe. Breathing does really help, you just have to remember to do it. My first instinct every time a contraction came was to start hyperventilating and freaking out. I remember thinking that I've never in my life been in a position where I was in pain and couldn't do something that would make me feel at least a little better. This pain wasn't going away! By 7am my contractions were around 2-3 minutes apart, yet even though I asked, the midwife didn't want to come in to check and see how far I was dilated. She was convinced it was going to be a long day of labor. I even told the nurse I felt the urge to push and no one really seemed to listen. Around 7:30am I demanded an epidural because the pain was so bad. The epidural didn't hurt; it actually immediately covered my entire left side giving me some relief. However it wasn't covering my right side so they had to roll me over to get the drug to 'drain' into my side. It never fully covered, but after about 1.5 hours did a decent job. My parents arrived somewhere around 8:15am, along with my aunt, Shannon and Jeff's parents who had been there since around 4:30ish. Around this time a new midwife came on shift and came in to see me. She checked me and immediately said "she's fully dilated, why hasn't she been checked?!" Yeah seriously! I'm not a doctor, but I do know that with contractions 2-3 minutes apart and pressure down under, that means it's probably time to have a baby!
The midwife decided I was progressing well, so she wanted me to labor down by myself and let it all happen naturally, so she left for a bit. I was able to visit with my parents and my aunt for a little while. Around 9:30-10 or so my contractions started slowing down a bit. They weren't as frequent or as intense, but I wasn't sure if I just couldn't feel them because of the epidural or what was going on. It was somewhere around 10:30am that the midwife checked and the baby's head was crowning. She wheeled over a mirror so I could see her head - insane! Since the contractions had almost come to a stop, she had the nurse put me on pottosin to try and get them to come back. I did get more and the midwife would have me push. Then it would go away and we'd just sit there and chat while we waited for another one to come back. Finally did one last big push and Olivia Jeanne Ryleigh was born at 11:16am on August 12, 2009. She was 4lbs, 2.84oz and 18.1 inches long.

They prepared me in advance that she would be taken immediately over to the heating lamps to be examined by a doctor from the NICU. She tested 9/10 on her APGAR and the doc did a full exam before letting Jeff cut the smaller part of the umbilical cord. They wrapped her up and let me hold her for about 5 minutes before they had to put her in an "incubator" and take her to the NICU. They stopped in the waiting room so everyone waiting there could meet her.

It all happened so fast and Jeff went with her to the NICU. So I was left alone with the nurse and the midwife getting stitches for the natural tear I had. I was actually alone for a really long time afterwards since Jeff was with the baby. I couldn't even process what had happened, just 24 hours before I was having a normal day at work.

Shortly after my parents came in to see me and then all of our visitors. About a half hour later they wheeled me in my bed to my post-partum room, but they stopped in the NICU so I could visit her. I only remember bits and pieces of it, but I do remember saying that she had such big feet and such long legs!

I spent a good part of that day going back and forth to the NICU by wheel chair. I needed sleep so bad, but just couldn't. My parents and Jeff's parents brought me some fries from In and Out Burger and Jeff a burger. That night at 6pm they brought him and I a "celebration dinner." Cheese manicotti (it was ravioli even though it said manicotti lol) with asparagus, rice pilaf and chocolate fudge bundt cake. We also got some martineli's so we could do a toast. It was really sweet!

The next day we spent in and out of the NICU. I decided I wanted to be discharged so I could shower in my own shower and sleep in my own bed. I needed to get some rest and get everything ready for her to come home. They initially told us she would be there 5 days, but over the course of those 5 days it changed, depending on who you talked to. Every day we'd get up, get ready, go to the hospital and sit with her for a good amount of the day. I cried at least 2-3 times a day because she couldn't come home. I dealt with breastfeeding Nazi's, social workers, physical therapists, ten different nurses, a bitchy head-nurse and several doctors that all brought me to tears. (I mean, not only did this all happen so suddenly, but then I couldn't take her home, which I'd never planned for, so it made it that much harder to process.) By the end of the 5th day it became frustrating. They wanted her to eat more, but everyone was feeding her differently and everyone had a different opinion on when she should come home. On Tuesday, August 18th, 2009, my mom and I settled in for another long day at the NICU. Olivia had just come off 24 hours on the bili-lights and we weren't expecting her to come home for at least 2 days. Suddenly her doctor comes up and asks if I know how to feed her and then asks if I want to take her home. "Cause if you don't feed her, she'll be back here."

So at 2pm on August 18th, we brought Olivia home! The first few days were stressful. We knew she had to eat to gain weight so she wouldn't have to go back to the hospital, but there were times when she wouldn't eat more than 15cc and I would just cry. She was 3lbs, 14ounces when we brought her home and they wanted her at her birth weight by her 2 week mark. At her first follow-up appointment they told us we had 6 days basically to get her weight up. I talked to a friend and co-worker who had preemie twins and she suggested a formula called Similac Neosure that was 2 extra calories per serving along with more protein and vitamins to help promote weight gain in preemies. So without consulting her doctor I made the decision on Friday, August 21st to switch her to this formula. Within 2 days she began thriving. She continuously ate more and more and by her 2 week follow-up she had gained 9 ounces and weighed 4lbs, 8.2oz - she surpassed her birth weight.

Today, August 28th, she's now eating around 2oz (60cc) almost every meal and is noticeably putting on weight. It's been an emotional and thrilling 2.5 weeks; our latest challenge are these late night feedings every 3 hours. Jeff goes back to work next Wednesday which is really scary, but it's just another step in this new journey for us both.

Olivia is an amazing baby. She's so sweet, so calm and so alert. It's a joy to be her mommy! More blogs will come with our many adventures during this time in our lives!

Cheers!

32 weeks, 3 days…

We had my baby shower this past Saturday on July 25, 2009. What an amazing day! What great friends and family I have. I can’t believe how much people love little Olivia and she’s not even born yet. The shower started at 1pm and my mom had bought all pink and chocolate brown decorations. The napkins were the cutest, they were pink with white polka dots. Little decorations hung from the chandelier and we had pink and chocolate brown cups and plates. Cindie made cute little pink “Chinese takeout” boxes with chocolate brown and pink candies in them. The food was amazing! It was beautiful on the table – almost too good to eat – but not quite. I chowed down many times throughout the day. The cake turned out really cute. It had pink booties on it and was so yummy. White cake with white buttercream and strawberries in the middle and a whipped cream frosting. Jenny’s punch recipe was VERY tasty and quite a hit. There were piles and piles of gifts, it took me forever to plow through them. So many personalized and handmade items that I will just cherish forever. I can definitely say that she doesn’t need anymore clothes until she’s 9 months old! We got almost everything we need (about 80%) and just need to pick up a few more things like pacifiers, mattress pads, changing table covers, some more bottles, diapers, burp cloths, the bouncer and the infant car seat. Her room is packed with gifts right now and I need to start digging through them to try and get things put away and organized. We also need to find some good shelving because Miss Olivia already has LOADS of books. I had a wonderful time and it was so great seeing so many friends and family. Let’s do this again for her first birthday! HAHA!

Everything is going good. I’m gaining too much weight! I’ve been averaging 2 pounds a week and they want me to keep it at 1. I feel like it’s going on faster than I can eat. I wanted to stay under 200, but I’m not sure if that’s possible at this point. I’ve 24 lbs gained so far. Saturday night after the shower I was lying in bed and for the first time she really pushed hard with her little hands/feet and pushed my skin out so far my stomach was completely misshapen. It’s happened before, but it was REALLY crazy this time. It was like the side of my stomach came to a point. It was the craziest experience this entire pregnancy – and I was all by myself when it happened which really sucks!

We really enjoyed the hospital / maternity ward tour 2 weeks ago. It really made things more of a reality to us, which was scary and exciting all at the same time. Going to something like this was really great for someone like me because I hate the unknown and I hate not having a plan, so seeing where I am going to be and how everything works was great. I was really impressed with Kaiser’s care and I feel really good about this upcoming experience. Now if someone can just tell me what day she’ll be born, that will ease my nervousness a little!

I got asked over the weekend who was going to be in the room with me when I give birth and I got mixed reactions when I said “probably just Jeff.” I also added that it would also depend on the moment and how I’m feeling, if the birth is complicated or easy, etc, etc, but I think people really thought I was going to use all 4 of my slots in the delivery room. I just don’t know yet. I’m going to just leave it up to the moment. If anyone gets to come in, it would be my mom, but I’m not sure about that either. I’m not sure if she would make me feel better or maybe stress me out some more. I have no idea if I’m going to be one of those women that get angry and yell at everyone or if I’ll be calm and just in pain. I just don’t see how I could make that decision right now when I’ve never gone through this before and I don’t know what to expect. What if the baby comes early and my mom’s not here? What if the baby comes fast and no one has time to get the hospital except for Jeff and I and maybe my aunts? I just don’t know. And I think I may have offended people, but what can I say…

I’m sitting here looking at my To Do list for the baby. So far this is what I’ve written down today.
Buy and hang shelving
Wash all clothing, sheets, blankets, etc
Buy waterproof mattress pads
Buy changing pads
Organize drawers and closet
Buy diapers
Find a place to store the high chair and bigger stroller
Install car seat and bases
Pack hospital bag

This doesn’t include finding a home for everything given to us at the shower! Still lots to do!