Working Girl

First week back to work: done.

And it wasn't bad. For starting again right off the bat by conquering 40 hours, I'm really prou of myself that it actually felt good to be back... Even though it was all training and policy/procedures stuff for the hospital this week. 

I won't start on the floor until next week, but I've already gotten a taste of what it will be like now, at least until September when I will finally be off orientation and onto my [awesome] schedule. I seriously feel so blessed to have gotten the 7/70 PM position. I can't even imagine trying to pull off a week at a time on nights with Jack at home and having to pump all day/night... Ouch.

So now, here I am, one week down and so happy. I found out this week the hospital's lactation areas have hospital-grade Medela pumps in each room so breastfeeding employees can keep up their supply while at work without having to lug their own pump around. Not to mention... The pumps there are like 10x better at expressing milk than my little ole pump n style is. 

So far, I'm feeling really blessed by what is coming about for us. I can't wait to see what God's got planned for us in the months ahead :)

5 months

Jack's 5 months old today. That's big. He's big. Today I finally had to run out and buy the big medela bottles. I don't even know how I'm gonna pump enough to fill those monstrosities. God help me. I think I have about 100 ounces or something like that in our freezer right now though (saving up for the baby apocalypse, obviously), so hopefully that'll give us some leg room once I head back to work. I'm pretty sure tops I'd only need like, 18ish ounces as a good buffer for going back. But you know... First time mommy here got a little overzealous. Well, that, and since Jack's been sleeping through the night for some time now, I have to pump every night or I'm 103% sure I'd explode by sunrise.

He gave me his first hug this month- and now basically never wants to let go. He is obsessed with us... put him down for a second and BOOM, immediate tears. He's like a live grenade. But in a way, I love that. I love that he wants us constantly, and is now showing finally, very obviously, just how much he wants us- and not just needs us. 

And little by little, Jack is getting stronger and more alert every day. His laughs are to die for, his little stories he tells us are so expressive I wish he could talk already. He loves to play on the piano, playing airplane with Daddy, splashing like crazy in the bathtub, and rainy day snuggles with Mama. He has made our lives so much happier and more fulfilled just by being here. Last week he decided it was time to start dumping his food, so that's exactly what he did: pulled his bowl of applesauce over his face and head and started laughing. And I laughed right along with him as the dogs cleaned up the mess on the floor. I wouldn't trade this chaos for anything.

What's new otherwise? Well, I finally found fabric to make Jack's car seat canopy. I'd been looking since before he was born for a UW badger fabric I actually liked and found nothing. JoAnn, Hancock, Walmart, and even online, they all had the same old white and red checkered fabric that I just didn't like. I was stuck on this red and black idea. I mean come on, his car seat is black and red. It was meant to be, right?

So I finally found the fabric just this past week at Hobby Lobby: my favorite craft store EVER. Mike hates it when I go there... That store is a death trap for a man's wallet. But at least I found what I needed, and was able to make my car seat canopy. And I have to say, I'm super happy with it. Most are made with minky as far as I've seen, which I just didn't want as it's not as breathable as cotton, and we particularly wanted it for summer nights out. So, voila! Jack's car seat canopy is complete!

Back to Work (aka, a God thing)

I got the news this week! Finally, after months of interviewing and considering multiple job options, I finally accepted an offer for my first job- in oncology/hematology. I am SO excited it's not even funny. It's rare for a specialty job to consider new grads, let alone at Froedtert. But clearly God was looking out for me once again. And the best part- it's a 7/70 PM position! Meaning 7 days straight, 10 hours each from 12:30pm-11pm. And then you get an entire week off. So yes- if I take a week of vacation, I get 3 weeks off, technically. Future babies: maternity leave ends up being 12 weeks, not 6, due to the week on, week off. Can you say awesome?

I am not going to lie though, I am 100% aware that this was not my doing. It was not because I'm super intelligent, because I'm ridiculously good-looking, or because I am the nicest person to grace the planet since Mother Teresa. I got a job in oncology, at the regions #1 academic medical center, in a magnet facility, in the position I wanted, shift I wanted, in a specialty I've always been interested in, and the hospital is literally 7 minutes from our house. My neighbor, an incredibly sweet Christian woman with two babies of her own (one being a little boy Jack's age) who runs her own in-home daycare just told us she has a spot for Jack. Yes, our awesome neighbor. Which means weeks I do work, I will still get to be home with my baby boy every day until noon, when I'll walk him next door, til Mike picks him up again at 3. Three hours of daycare. And every other week, I'll be off an entire week to love and snuggle him and just be mom.

No, this wasn't my doing at all. This was most definitely what Mike and I deem a "God thing." We are both praising God every day that He blessed us with such an incredible opportunity. I got to be home with my sweet baby now for what will almost be 6 months, and nowa that I am going back to work I still will be home much of Jack's childhood. I will still get to enjoy him and spend time with my husband in the mornings and my weeks off, and still work full-time, which is what our family needs right now. It is truly a blessing I can't even begin to comprehend.

One of my greatest fears in going back to work was missing out on Jack's childhood- not being there for his milestones, his "big moments." But as I've been told again and again by friends who've done the 7/70, it's the most amazing schedule, and with being off every other week for a whole week, it lets you be there for those moments. And to not have to be on nights my first job- well, I can't even put into words just how thankful Mike and I both are for that. 

So here's to God once again filling our plate, blessing us with a situation so unfathomably amazing only He could pull this off. Thanks God. Again. You're awesome :)

Glorious food!

Jack is going to be 5 months old in a couple weeks. Seriously, what happened to the itty bitty 7 pounder from 5 months ago? Last time he got weighed he was about 13 lbs and 25 inches long- tall and skinny (though you wouldn't guess it from his awesome leg rolls and chunky cheeks and tummy). But he eats like a racehorse. This past month at his 4 month check-up, our doctor suggested trying solids with him (sad day for Mommy... he's getting too grown-up too fast). He had been reaching and grabbing at Mike's and my food quite a bit, so we decided to go along with his suggestion and, lo and behold, our child is a solid-food rockstar. We started him on bananas, then moved to mangos, peas, sweet potatos and applesauce. He likes EVERYTHING. And when he wants more, he makes it very clear he wants more. When he's done, he purses his lips and scrunches his eyebrows together in a very "loosen muh pants" kinda way. It was nerve-racking at first to give him solids. I mean, what first time mom isn't? What's the worst thing that can happen? Oh I don't know... Choke and die? Yup. I sat there his whole first bowlful an stared him down like a one-eyed hawk. And then his second meal came... and third meal... and then I realized this kid eats better than I do half the time. Seriously.

We tried mesh feeders to see if he liked those... Nope. The only thing he likes about those is if he holds them over the side of his highchair Coop will come snatch them. So I guess that's out. It was a nice idea.

I can't believe just a few short months ago Jack was completely helpless- he couldn't grab anything, was awkward on the boob, and would pretty much just lie around all day being a baby. And now he's sitting up (with a little help), trying to crawl, holding his spoon (and sticking it in his eye or ear), and acting like a tiny human. No more amoeba baby, folks- this kid is for real.

I love that Jack is growing, that he converses with us with precious coos and babbles and lights up our hearts with his silly smiles. I love how his tiny hands will hold his nook for a good 5 minutes, turning it round and round, examining it ever so closely before violently shoving it in his mouth and covering it in drool before smiling, with this little sparkle in his eye, as if to say "oh yeah, this is delicious!" And then throw it across the room. And then laugh about it.

He is my world. And the best part is getting to travel down this road alongside Mike, my best friend, and share in the silly moments, the peas-in-hair moments, the projectile everything moments, the scary moments, the milestones and the precious firsts, with him. Mike gets so much joy out of seeing his son grow, and is already 1000x the dad I ever could've hoped or imagined he would be. He's just... Perfect. My perfect. And if Jack turns out to be even half the man my husband has become, this world will be blessed.

In a few weeks we will celebrate our anniversary. We've been friends 10 years now, together 5 years, married for 2. It's amazing how things change over time. I never would've guessed 10 years ago when I met Mike at the Sadie Hawkins dance ("...in my khaki pants"), that he'd one day be my husband and daddy to my children. It's a funny story, the way things panned out for Mike and I. Our lives constantly were intertwined- but we never actually connected until a time when we both needed one another. As crazy as it sounds, even as kids, I was best buds and went to preschool from 18 months thru kindergarten with a boy who would become one of Mike's best friends growing up. We lived just 10 minutes apart, went to rival high schools, went to church across the street from one another, went to college together, and managed to have our entire first semester together. But we didn't start dating until 3 years later, because I just happened to back out on a date with another engineer, a grad student in Material Science, and at the last minute go to a bonfire with my friend instead- which just happened to be at Mike's house. And that's where it all started: 5 years ago, I met my husband for the first time once more, this time for the last time.

But as I've figured out, God likes surprising us like that. We were on His time, and that's the best way to be. I wouldn't have had it any other way.

So here's to being in love again, now for the 3rd time. My God, my husband, my baby. They have stolen my heart again and again, and yet each time, instead of feeling like they're taking little pieces of my heart, I can only describe it as though I feel that they're instead filling it. Through the glorious joy I've been blessed with these last few years through my amazing husband and beautiful little boy, I have experienced the workings of an incredibly gracious, loving, and powerful God. And I praise him every morning as I wake up next to my wonderful husband, and every night as a rock my baby to sleep. Words can't describe the utter joy you feel when you know God has had your entire life in His hands.

So in a couple days, Mike and I will once again celebrate one of the most beautiful days of our lives. Our beginning of forever. We decided why limit it to just Monday when we can have an entire weekend of awesome? So we're going out to dinner Friday night at the melting pot, Saturday we're going to Madison and Farmer's market, Sunday we're going fishing and hiking down by the Milwaukee River. And Monday is apparently a surprise for me, courtesy of Mike :) I can't wait to enjoy this weekend with my best friend and the little man.

My Very First Mother's Day

Today was beautiful. And I must follow by saying, second to my wedding day and the day Jack was born, today was the most beautiful day of my life.

Today was my very first Mother's Day, and what a ridiculously beautiful day today was. We did absolutely nothing out of the ordinary- and yet, today was extraordinary.

I woke up this morning to beautiful flowers, a basket of pampering stuffs, fresh coffee and fruit courtesy of my amazing husband. He brought in my sweet baby, we all cuddled in the bed for a good half hour, and talked about nothing in particular until the pups started pacing, anxious for their breakfast.

I spent the morning crafting, rocking out to Bryan Adams, and enjoying my coffee as Mike sat with me, playing with Jack and reading him Bible stories while the dogs sprawled out on the floor next to us (thank you, Riley, for adding your own special touches to my Cricut mat). 

We went to church, enjoyed a great service, went to breakfast with Mike's family, then came home to entertain and feed the dogs before joining my family for dinner. And now we're home, my baby is asleep, and I'm lying here completely content and happy.

Today was beautiful.

Today was an affirmation for me. I became a mother 4 months ago, in fact 13 months ago to be fair, and yet today for the first time, I got to raise my hand when asked "all the moms raise your hand," and at breakfast when they handed out flowers to the moms, I got one too. I realized today I'm officially in the "mom club." It was amazing.

It may seem silly to say this now, but it's true. Today I got to be Mom, after spending my entire life admiring my mom, hoping one day I'd get to be just like her, I'm there :) well, I'm at least in the mom club. I don't know that I measure up to her just yet. But she is most certainly someone I hope to be someday.

For those of you who don't know her, she is perfect. At least, as perfect as a mother could ever hope to be. I have not, and doubt I ever will, meet anyone else who compares. She is my friend, my confidant, my shoulder to cry on, my person. She has managed to put up with an incredible amount of shit from me, and still does (I know I have it coming to me with Jack). But she is incredible. From watching me almost drown myself in the pool as a kid when I put water wings on my ankles "because I wanted to walk on water like Jesus," to cutting a hole in my mattress for the cat to sleep in, that time when I cut my hand open carving a pumpkin and she held me up as I wobbled around the house trying not to pass out. She dried my tears when my 7th grade boyfriend and I broke up "because I had braces and he was scared to kiss me," she listened to my stupid teenage drama all through high school, and she held me close when my high school boyfriend and I of over 2 years had a very nasty breakup. She helped me through college (twice), she spent hours with me on the phone when I was missing home, she came to Madison just to cheer me up and take me to the farmers market. She was a role model, a mentor, an image of God's grace through my entire life. She is the first person I will call to cheer me up, to go out to coffee, to walk aimlessly through stores looking at expensive commodities when I'm completely broke. She was there when I gave birth to my beautiful baby boy, holding my hand and laughing and crying right alongside me. She watched him as I spent countless days and nights studying so I could pass my board exam, and she now still will give up her own time, skip Bible study, reschedule appointments, and has even rescheduled a surgery for herself, simply to watch Jack for an hour or two. Had it not been for her, I would not be where I am today. 

So if you're reading this Mom, today is about you. And I can only hope that one day I am half the woman, mom, and friend you have been to me.

Jack's Dedication Day!

Today we had our parent-child dedication ceremony. It was so wonderful to see everyone again and we feel so incredibly blessed to have had so many people who care so much about Jack there to support us in our decision. It was truly a beautiful day.

The ceremony was at 9:30am, followed by photos and then a grillout at our house. And then some serious weirdness involving Champion Chicken and a game night once Jack was in bed. We had so much fun with everyone, and just can't believe just how gorgeous of a day it was. 75 degrees and sunny? Thanks God!

We've had a few people already ask about the dedication vs baptism as well as who Jack's Godparents are, so we figured we'd explain on here what we decided. We're actually pretty excited about it :)

Regarding Jack's parent-child dedication ceremony- Mike and I decided on this over baptism as it is a decision on our part to raise Jack is a Jesus-loving home.  An external proclamation based on an internal decision on our part, if you will. Just to be clear: we see nothing wrong with infant baptism. We were both baptized as babies ourselves, we simply wanted something different for our own little man.

And yes, Mike and I certainly do hope that someday Jack will decide of  his own accord to get baptized, but we wanted him to have the opportunity to decide this on his own and experience it when he can remember and truly appreciate the meaning of it, once he has chosen for himself to follow Jesus. For now, we pray that we are able to shine Jesus's light strong enough that Jack seeks to follow Jesus not because we do, but because he wants to.

As for Jack's Godparents- we decided that because a Godparent is, traditionally, intended as a mentor in the faith and additionally someone a child should feel happy and comfortable with, when that day comes that Jack would like to get baptized, we will at that time allow him to decide who his own Godparents are. We hope that the people he picks will have had a significant impact on his own life as a child of God, and we believe that this will allow Jack to form a very special bond with that person, and hopefully will mean a lot more to him than had Mike and I just picked for him. We also thought this would make for a much better match in personality and style of faith. Not to mention- we can only imagine how incredible of a feeling it would be to be picked by a child himself to be his Godparents. Talk about an honor :) So here's to you, future-Godparents-of-Jack! We seriously can't wait to see who he picks.

(almost) 4 months old

One week from today this kiddo is going to be 4 months old. Never in a million years did I think I would be so blessed to stay home with him this long and watch him grow up. While it's been rough balancing on one income now as the medical bills have rolled in, I wouldn't have traded this for the world. I now see why so many moms go on maternity leave and decide not to go back to work. 1) This is a full-time job in and of itself, and 2) Every day he grows, changes, becomes even more "Jack" than the day before, and to think I would've missed many of these memories had I been at work. When I go to the store and Mike stays home with him, I miss him to pieces. When Mike and I go on a date without Jack, we constantly talk about him until we get home again. Even when he takes naps during the day (as he is right now, in fact, cuddled up in my left arm), I many times find myself missing him. I never get anything done with Jack, and yet it's the most amazing and incredible chaos I could ever imagine. Having him here is complete and utter joy.

And now come the interviews, many of which are full-time positions. A second income again will be without a doubt helpful, but indeed I do still dread the thought of going back to work and losing precious time watching this little man grow up. I so wish I could stay home with him, but of course that doesn't work too well when you have student loans, a mortgage, and medical bills to pay. So now here I am, soaking in every precious moment I have left with Jack as a temporary stay-at-home-mom until the day I go back to work... which is certainly sooner than I'd like.

In the meantime, Mike and I are continuing to remake the horrid landscaping that was our lot when we first moved in. The "garden" that existed in a corner of our yard when we first bought the house consisted of a few piles of dirt overgrown with weeds, and if you dug deep enough, you might find a hot pepper plant or two, some mustard basil (which is invasive, by the way- it has tried to overtake every pot and planter we have), and chives galore. Yeah, no. That was not ok in my book. For those of you who know my dad, in this respect I am most definitely his daughter. I am 100% OCD about my garden, and that was not going to fly. So lo and behold, last summer my hardworking husband once again gifted me his precious time and energy and built me the garden I so desperately wanted. I now have tomatoes (beefsteak, roma, sungolds and cherubs), cucumbers, zucchinis, sweet bell peppers, hot peppers, watermelons, and squash started in our dining room, carrots started outside, and am anxiously awaiting the warmer temperatures so that I can finally start my lettuce (4 varieties, because I have issues), kale, spinach, beets, radishes, and turnips. I have my herb garden (basil, cilantro, oregano, parsley, mint and chives) already flourishing indoors and can't wait to move the planter out onto the deck once it's warmer. And my favorite *hopeful* plants this year: strawberries and raspberries lining the garden gates. I will be praising God endlessly if He actually blesses us with some tasty berries this year! So, as you can see, I am beyond excited (and slightly overzealous) about our garden this year. We plan to make home-made babyfood for Jack, which is another reason I'm so excited for a good garden. Our garden last year proved fantastic (so fantastic we had to give away 10lbs of tomatoes due to an overabundance!) so I can't wait for this year, especially since we've added so much variety and learned so much since last year.

One thing's for sure though: planting a garden with a baby is hard work! Finding the time to do so is near impossible, even being home all the time. When he takes a nap, I'll try to slip outside some days for even 20 minutes, with my iPhone's babycam on high volume, and turn the dirt or water the carrots, but it always seems the second I grab the garden tiller or fill the watering can, I'll hear the little sniffles on the babycam and it'll be put on hold again. It's rough gardening with a 4 month old, but here's to hoping the spurratic work we put in still pays off :) luckily I've got an amazing husband who wants to hang with Jack every chance he gets so I can try to get things done for myself while he's home.

And as for homemade baby food: nope, haven't done it yet. We bought a really epic food processor last Black Friday though just for this purpose, and I hope it turns out well. I'm so grossed out by how much everything is processed nowadays, that's the last thing I want to give Jack (not to mention- some of that baby food is horrifyingly gross... if I wouldn't eat that, why would I make him eat it?) So, once kiddo's big enough for "solids" (just a few more months!) I'll be posting an update on how that works out. Fingers crossed it does! :)

3 months

I will be honest. I am currently lying in the complete dark, with my nightshirt on inside out, one sock on, and a baby on my boob. Ah, yes- the joys of motherhood. I have been a mom now for a little over 3 months (well, technically 12 months, but 9 were sans baby), and I feel I can truthfully say I have succumbed to the mercy of my child. I am defeated.

Ninety percent of my time is now dedicated to entertaining my little wiggler, 8 percent to cleaning the house, 1.99% to job-searching (finally took my NCLEX a week ago and passed, hooray!), and that leaves... .01% for me and/or Mike. Yup, I am officially "Mom." Last week I realized I was humming "Wheels on the Bus" in the shower loooong after Jack was in bed. I have caught myself accidentally reaching for the breastmilk instead of the creamer for my morning coffee (praise God I haven't actually made that mistake... yet), and have tripped over numerous noise-maker toys just as I've put him to sleep in his crib. Yes, I am defeated. And never, ever have I been so overjoyed.

I truly have to say, this is awesome. And not just a little awesome. I'm talking spectacular. Having a little giggly chubby tiny human completely adore you is pretty much as good as it gets. 

And it's also the HARDEST. THING. EVER.

From what we've been told by pretty much everyone, Mike and I have it "easy" and "shouldn't complain." Let me counter that by saying: every parent always has a right to complain. Always. This is not easy. Never, ever will being a mom or dad ever be "easy." Regardless of how "easy" you have it, I think every parent has a right to complain about poop grunts during church, milk-puddle shirt stains at the movies, baby spit-up somehow making it onto an inappropriate area of your jeans and hence looking like something else, and projectile sharts that make it to the wall 15 inches away...but who's keeping track, right? But let's be fair, these times make for incredible memories. Comparable to say, that time when my amazing husband ran me over with our Corolla. It sure as hell wasn't funny when I was lying in the ER having x-rays taken... but we both will take every opportunity to laugh about it now.

One year ago, we prayed to God he'd make it work and He did. He blessed us with the best gift we could possibly have asked for. Two lines on the peestick. Jack is perfect. He's sweet, silly, super smart, and a total looker. I could stare into his blue eyes for an hour and not even get bored. I never dreamed we'd get blessed with such a perfect little man, but we were. And now we have the terrifying joy of raising him into a good, Jesus-loving kid.

Mike and I decided to do a parent-child dedication for Jack, as it is focused on our commitment as Jack's parents to raise him in a God-loving home. We are currently in a Bible study with the other parents who are also dedicating their parenthood and children to the Lord, and I can't stress enough just how much we've already enjoyed their company and our time together. There are 3 little ones all of whom are Jack's age, another little girl who is 10 months old, and then a family with three children who are 2, 4 and 6- and this is just our group. About 50 families will be dedicating their children that day, and we couldn't be more excited. Each family has also been asked to dedicate a verse to their child's life, and Mike and I decided for Jack on Joshua 1:9-

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid, do not be discouraged. For the Lord, your God, will be with you wherever you go."

This verse in and of itself completely embodies our hopes for Jack- that he will never lose hope, will never be discouraged, that he will always remember that regardless of the circumstances or how hard it gets, God is there. Our prayer for him is that we, as his parents, are able to lay such a solid, unwavering foundation that he never feels a doubt or need to question his faith. That he finds himself comfortable and confident in the life he chooses, and that God remains his compass and his anchor throughout his journey. 

We are so incredibly blessed by God to have been given such a precious gift. Jack reminds us daily just how amazing God really is. And to think He gave His own precious son for us measly sinners down here on earth... never did we ever understand just what grace this was until we had our own son. How great is His love for us.

2 months old

He's 2 months old now. The past two weeks have been... Hard. Jack is a beautiful sweet boy, but he sure can scream, let me tell you. They aren't kidding when they say weeks 6-8 are the worst.

Right around 7 weeks, Jack's GI symptoms (gas, reflux) started acting up something crazy. Poor baby was constantly squeezing and burping and pooping, and honestly the screaming and tears seemed endless with no light at the end of the tunnel. Mike and I started to question if he had colic it got so bad. For this reason, I'm actually thankful I haven't started working yet so that I was able to be home with him during this hard time. Nothing seemed to help- nursing, swaddling, rocking, singing, gas drops, the windi, bicycle kicks... Nothing. Mike and I were at a loss, stressed, exhausted, and felt like failures at parenting, honestly. 

And then Jack turned 2 months old. And on his 2 month birthday, it seemed that suddenly everything was better. Jack was a happy, wonderful baby again. He was suddenly a pro at farting, pooping, didn't have such awful burps/reflux, and started sleeping like a pro. As in- overnight. Hallelujah.

Big milestones...well, he's officially mastered holding up his head. He holds things now, grabs his nook when it falls out. The little things you take for granted suddenly become signs your little squirmy poop machine is actually somewhat human :) 

6 weeks: growth spurt.

Jack's 6 weeks old today. Mike and I made it out alive. I don't know how, but we did.

Now looking back over the past 6 weeks, Mike and I can both say what a ride... And not always in the best way. I can't even complain about Jack- on an average night he sleeps in 4 to 6 hour stretches. He is generally calm during the day with a few mild "fussy fits" that are typically solved by snuggling or singing. He breastfeeds like a champ, takes a bottle if I need him to without any problem, and has used a nook as needed since pretty much day one. He smiles when we talk to and play with him, and almost always calms down when one of us walks in the room. He makes the most hilarious faces- my favorite being when he sucks his lips under his gums and "chews" his cheeks and lips, like a little old man who's lost his dentures. Not to mention -and I know every new mommy believes this about her baby, but seriously- he is freaking gorgeous. Mike and I definitely can't complain. We were blessed with a happy, beautiful, non-colicky baby who surprises us every day with how big he's getting and how alert he has become. Our little genius in he making. Compared to the little troublemaker we thought he'd be with how violent he was in utero, he is a total angel.

So what's hard right now? Well, right now Jack is going through one of those often-forgotten times of babyhood many parents refer to as "growing pains." Typically, babies hit these points around 2-3 weeks, 6 weeks, 3 months, and 6 months. How do you know they're going through a growth spurt? Ohhhh let me tell you. YOU WILL KNOW. Why? Because baby won't be the only one having growing pains.

Clue #1: Baby will NOT be put down. Jack decided early on during a growth spurt that if you put him down, you will risk total deafness. He would fall near-comatose in my arms for a good 45 minutes. Set him down in the crib or rock-n-play, and he lets out a shriek deafening enough to summon the Wauwatosa Police Department. 

Lesson learned: Baby carrier + Swaddle = Mommy & Daddy's best friend during a growth spurt.

Clue #2: Baby fusses about nothing, constantly. No, it's not the deafening, inconsolable cry of a colicky baby. Nothing is that bad. But during a growth spurt baby will fuss about everything, always. The tv is too quiet, now it's too loud. The blanket's too cold. The lights are too bright. Your perfume is too strong. The dog smells like a dog. Anything. It doesn't matter what you do. Swaddling, nooks, feeding, warm compresses, even Johnson's calming lotion has got nothing on a growth spurt.

Lesson learned: Baby massage and warm baths (for baby), accompanied by lots and lots of distraction playtime. Seriously. Even if it's only 10 minutes of quiet, 10 minutes is 10 minutes. It does help. And then when baby's calm, give yourself a warm bath... But don't get too comfy.

Clue #3: Baby will try to latch onto everything but the kitchen sink. Yes, he really is that hungry. Growing is hard work. I get that growing is hard work, but when baby even tries to latch onto his pajama (that can't possibly feel like a nipple), you'd think he's more of a Tazmanian Devil than a baby. Jack normally would eat every 3-4 hours or so. During a growth spurt: try 1-2 hours. IF I'm lucky.

Lesson learned: Have your boobs or bottle armed and ready at all times.

Clue #4: Your nipples feel like they're going to fall off. This, obviously, is a direct result of Clue #3. Remember that crazy awful soreness you had those first 2 weeks after baby was born? Well, it's back with a vengeance. Back then, you had a measly little 10 day old hacking away at your breast. Now you're at the mercy of a ravenous 6 week old- and let me tell you, there's a BIG difference.

Lesson learned: Lansinoh. Unfortunately for me, Jack can't stand it regardless of how little or when I put it on (he's picky, like his father). So what do I do? Coconut oil. It washes off far easier than Lansinoh, and even if it doesn't, then Jack just gets a tropical twist to his meal.

Clue #5: You feel like you could eat everything in the pantry and still be hungry. Yup. Baby drains you, literally, during a growth spurt. You will be just as ravenous, if not more so, than baby.

Lesson learned: Make sure you have plenty of healthy food stocked in your house at 2 weeks and at 6 weeks, so when this period hits and you don't catch on right away, you don't go nuts and eat an entire pizza by yourself. Followed by half a gallon of ice cream.

Clue #6: Baby wakes up at all hours of the night. Yes. The schedule/routine you thought you had is gone. Jack would sleep for 4-6 hours a night. During a growth spurt I'm lucky if he sleeps 2 hours. It will make you want to die. You will sit there in bed with baby on your breast, thinking to yourself "What the heck did I eat today to make him so fussy? How is he still hungry? Did I forget to put the bedtime lotion on him? Is his onesie too tight? Is he too hot? Too cold?" No. He's just hungry as hell and won't let you sleep until you've given him every last drop from those boobs of yours. 

Lesson learned: The crib is useless during a growth spurt. When he's having a bad night, we bring him in our room and put him back in his rock-n-play for the night to keep him close for when he fusses, and so Mommy doesn't have to get up over and over again. You'll feel like you're moving backwards when these nights come, but it will save you your sanity and there's a 99% chance he'll be right back to his crib in a few days time, sleeping like a champ again.

Clue #7: You feel like a zombie. Whenever Jack hits a growth spurt, I feel like I could land a leading roll in the Walking Dead. I am miserable the next day. Not to mention, it is extremely hard to wake me in the morning when Jack is up every hour to feed. 

Lesson learned: Have the coffeemaker set to "auto." BUT, only have one cup. Seriously. Coffee can do unfortunate things to an otherwise calm baby.

But the worst of this spurt seems to be over. He's back to his normal, snuggly little self again and handsome as ever. He's getting so big it's amazing. He is even starting to get tall for his 3 month old clothes! Of course, he's a skinny little man, but my goodness is he tall. Our little string bean.

Major events
Jack now is a professional head-holder-upper. He LOVES books, mirrors, and Cooper. Oh, and his play gym. I can not recommend this thing enough. This one came with a little turning music mobile, which will entertain Jack for 20 minutes at a time. He is already reaching for the little hanging animals, and will sit and smile and coo at the brightly patterned mat. 

4 weeks old already?

He's going to be 4 weeks old this week. How did this happen?

As I sit here sipping my coffee listening to some classical music on Pandora (how did the soundtrack from "How to Train Your Dragon" get on this station, anyway?), I just finished another practice exam for my boards. Jack is peacefully sleeping on the couch beside me and Cooper on the loveseat, Riley under the coffee table awaiting his daily terrorization attempt of the mailman. There's a light snow falling outside and the trees are being whisped around in the cold winter wind. It's quiet. Very quiet. As a new mom, you'd think I'd appreciate the silence. It's not like I'll get much of it in the years to come, so soak it up now, right?

But the silence is too loud, really. I could use a little giggle or snort or fart or something. Anything. He's going to be 4 weeks old on Friday. Why does he have to be 4 weeks already?

There's no way to explain the feeling of watching your newborn grow into what will soon be your little boy. It's like trying to prevent the sun from setting- the process of it is such a sad idea, but once the sunset arrives, it's more beautiful than you ever imagined. Every day that passes, I see him look more and more like his Daddy. His curls are coming in, his eyelashes are getting longer. His eyes are wider and more alert, and his tiny perfect little feet have already grown out of his newborn booties. And I try to remember what he looked like the day before. How does that happen? You go to bed at night, and the next morning, he's grown again. Just a little more precious than the day before. Family members always say, "They grow up so fast." What an understatement.

The past four weeks have been one big whirlwind, I'll put it that way. Getting this "mom" thing down is exhausting. For every time you feel like you got it right, you feel like a failure five more times. Soon after we brought Jack home, I surrendered myself to imperfection and decided it's no use. I did all the research, had every little gizmo and gadget waiting for me. I was going to nip those screaming fits and blowout diapers right in the butt! (no pun intended). Alas, it is no use. The nights will be long and those baby tears will make your own heart want to cry. Lesson learned: you're going to feel like you suck at this no matter how much you prepare. But it'll be ok. In fact, it will be wonderful.

I love being a mom. I love having a little ball of cuddly happiness to snuggle with as I study. It's hard, though. The nights when he's gassy as all heck, and I can't do anything but fill him with those darn gas drops and bicycle-kick his legs until the sun comes up. The mornings I wake up and my boobs decided to turn into a sprinkler system after his last feeding and soaked right through the nursing pads and onto the bedsheets. The days when he's screaming his lungs out, his mid-diaper-change bare butt aimed in every which direction and I realize I left the clean diapers in the basement again. Or those moments when he just fell asleep, and I have to pee like a racehorse: to put him down and risk the wrath of un-cuddled Jackson, or just keep rocking and risk a bladder explosion.

They're right, it's hard.

But it's a good hard. It's the little things that keep you going, and thank goodness, they come in ample supply. When you finally figure out that "Ehhh ehhh ehhh" cry means his tummy hurts, the "Aerghhh" cry means he's gotta fart again, the lip quiver or ear tug means he's hungry. When you figure out he's fussy and fidgety as all heck because his diaper's wet, and you change it, and all is right with the world again. Or when his bottom starts to get pink and splotchy, and you, being the all-knowing (common sense) parent you are, recognize this is the early stage of diaper rash and slap some coconut oil on that booty and kick that rash right in the butt (again, no pun intended). Or the best part: the first time he smiles at you, and it's not because he farted. Those are the little victories when you think to yourself, "Hey, this isn't so bad. Maybe I won't kill myself today." Those are the moments that make everything worth it, and remind you you're going to be ok. I feel incredibly blessed to say that as time goes on, Mike and I have gotten to see more and more little victories, and fewer and fewer moments of utter chaos. Life is exactly as it should be, and I wouldn't trade this for the world.

Jackson Robert: Born January 10, 2014 at 5:24pm. 7lbs 10oz, 20" long

Thursday, January 9, 2014 was just like any other Thursday. I was home studying for my boards, Mike went to work but was planning to come home early for my 39 week appointment and then for him to get his hair cut.

Around 3pm we entered the doctor's office, and my OB did the usual check, and asked to strip my membranes. For those curious, it's a very common procedure done (depending on your OB) between 37-42 weeks in which the doctor separates the amniotic sac from the inner lining of the uterus using a sweeping (tornado) motion with her hand/fingers. Dependent upon how dilated you are prior to the procedure, it will either hurt like hell or you won't even feel it. Being the impeccably lucky (NOT) individual that I am, Jack was so low and me only 2cm dilate, I was pretty sure in the 30 seconds it took my OB to strip my membranes that I was going to have a baby in my arms by the time she was done. That was the second most painful thing I've ever done... probably for Mike as well, as I screamed more in that 30 seconds than I did during actual labor. Good news for the Mamas out there who are considering having it done at the end of their pregnancy: if it does hurt for you, it will only hurt for 30 seconds.

The long and short of membrane stripping is this: it releases a mass amount of your own hormones (prostaglandins) into the cervix as the amniotic sac in which the baby is floating is stripped away from the inside of your uterus. This surge of hormones will ultimately ripen the cervix for labor, signaling the uterus to get this show on the road. For some Mamas it works like a charm, for others it doesn't do a darn thing. It has no negative effects on baby, and can actually aid in shortening labor if it does work. So my recommendation: try it. If it doesn't work the 1st time, try it at your next appointment. If it doesn't work the 2nd time, don't be a fool. Give your poor lady parts a break and just be patient.

So 39 weeks along, on January 9th at 3pm, my OB stripped my membranes, told me to go get a cheesburger, and wait for something to happen. Which is ultimately what I did (though it was in fact a chicken sandwich, not a cheeseburger), then went with Mike to the Vici Institute to get his haircut at 4pm. Mike's stylist, though a total sweetheart and actually very pretty, took FOREVER to cut his hair, so I was chilling out there until almost 5:30pm waiting for him. By 5pm, I started feeling a little woozy, maybe some indigestion, I thought. We left the salon and I remember turning to Mike as we walked to the car, saying "I feel weird. I need to go home."

So, seeing as I wanted to go home, we went to Pick n' Save instead. Because that makes sense. We grabbed a few items, a movie, and walked out to the car. It was now almost 6:30pm, and I was getting uncomfortable. Uncomfortable like when it's that time of the month. That can't be right... PMS? What is going on here?

And then 7pm hit, and let me just say, all I wanted to do is take 24 ibuprofens and drown myself in a lavender-scented chocolate jacuzzi. At least for myself, I went into this thinking labor contractions would feel like a tearing, or burning, or sharp pain, or anything but what they actually were for me. I was expecting gut-wrenching, machete-to-the-insides kind of pain. I was having Braxton Hicks contractions since 28 weeks, and while they were uncomfortable and made the outside of my tummy feel like a cement wall, they were NOTHING compared to labor contractions. Labor contractions were like the worst period cramps I've ever had in my life. I tried lying in every position on our couch, walked up and down the stairs and did laps around the house about 3,672 times. I took a hot shower, took a cold shower, tried warm compresses, tried watching a movie, tried listening to music, tried stretching... but the pains kept getting stronger and closer together, between 3-4 minutes apart and lasting anywhere from 30 seconds to a minute. By 10pm Mike was convinced: "Mandy, for real, you can call the hospital now."

Now I have to explain my predicament here: I've been working in Labor & Delivery for over a year. I'm the one telling Mamas when to come in, when the fluid they lost or contractions they're describing to me on the phone sounds like the real deal. I've been the one standing next to them coaching them through pushing and holding their legs up, doing their assessments, and doing baby's assessments and checks. For a year now I've been in the driver's seat, directing Moms & Dads on what to do. But when it's you, when you're the one in the passenger seat, all that knowledge and smarts and common sense falls out the back of your head and all that knowledge basically turns into a crockpot of gooey stupidity. So the last thing I wanted to do was call my friends at work for a "false alarm." But after a great deal of nagging and coercing from my more-sensical-than-I husband, at 11:15pm I called work, and what do ya know, my friends gave me those exciting but scary words every soon-to-be-mom wants to hear: "Yeah, Mandy, I think it's about time you came in."

Here we go...

So, around 12:15am, on January 10th, Mike and I packed up the last of our things, I ate my "last meal" (all I could muster by this point was a banana) and arrived at the hospital in our schnazzy little Corolla, parked that baby right outside the skywalk, and made our way to the 6th floor of Children's & Froedtert Hospital. It took us a grand total of 10 minutes to drive from our house to the hospital, and about 20 minutes for us to walk from the parking structure to the Labor & Delivery unit. No, it was not because it was a long walk. It was because me, being the non-sensical laboring mother I was, absolutely refused a wheelchair. I NEEDED to walk. Don't ask me why, but I even got annoyed with the janitorial lady who was vacuuming because she was kind enough to offer me a wheelchair. I suppose when your contractions are coming with a vengeance every 3 minutes, it doesn't matter whether you're sitting or standing, it's gonna hurt regardless, so what's a wheelchair gonna do anyway?

Almost there!

Get you there faster, that's what. For goodness sake, Moms, take the damn wheelchair when someone offers it to you.

Fake smiling for the camera in between contractions

My admission went like any other admission, I had to be poked 3 times again for my IV as my veins are every nurse's worst nightmare. Not that it mattered- a little poke in the arm or hand was nothing by then. 1am came and went, as did 2am. By 3am the breathing and relaxing techniques were no longer working as my body went into transition and I couldn't stop throwing up with each contraction (praise God all I'd eaten was a banana), and the doctor finally came in and said I should consider getting an epidural as things weren't getting any better. I graciously obliged by that paint, and let me tell you: getting that epidural was the best decision of my freaking life.

Breathing...

Now let me say, I was totally hoping for a natural labor and birth. I still believe that's beautiful, and it's what

we women were made to do, so all the more power to those women who can make it the whole nine yards without an epidural their first time around. But I am 100% content with joining the epidural club. Why? Because it was like
a night and day difference in how I was able to function after that point. Granted, my legs turned into the consistency of a jellyfish, but once they placed the epidural I was able to breathe again. The vomitting stopped, I could feel baby moving, and Mike came into bed and snuggled with me and rubbed my awkward jellyfish feet while we watched Boy Meets World and I feasted on water and ice chips. I could relax and can genuinely say I was comfortable. By 4am I was able to call my mom myself and tell her Jack was on his way so she could come. I was able take a nap with my husband, and laugh with my mom in calm and quiet. There's something to be appreciated about being able to really enjoy those last hours and minutes with those closest to you rather than focusing on your breathing and distracting yourself. And seeing as my labor ended up being 22 hours long, I sure am glad I did. Going back, would I get the epidural again? Oh hell yes. I would get it sooner if I could.

Oma came to keep me sane :)

At 5am my water broke, and I was 6 cm dilated. My OB arrived, and predicted Jack would be here by lunchtime, and that she'd hurry through her clinic patients to get back in time as she was not on call that day. By 11am, I was at a standstill. I was still 6cm, 100% effaced, and at +2 station. The RNs nor the OBs could understand it, as everything had moved so fast up to this point and then I got stuck with no progress. At that point they started pitocin to hopefully induce a progression, but nothing seemed to be working.

I don't even know how many bags of LR they'd
pumped into me by this point, but you can see from
the photo I was puffy!

This is the part where things got scary. Once a woman's water breaks, it is preferred she gives birth within 12 hours due to a risk for chorioamnionitis- an infection of the internal membranes of the sac and uterine lining due to irritiation brought on by labor contractions. Seeing as my water had broken at 5am, I was due to have Jack by 5pm. By 2pm, I had spiked a fever and the doctors were assuming the worst: indeed I had gotten chorio. A resident came in and gave me the scary news: If I didn't have at least a 1cm progression within the hour, I would need a c-section. Yes, I did cry like a baby. Who wants a c-section if they can help it? And then I demanded they up the pitocin and I sit up in bed to stretch and get this kid to put some serious pressure down there.

Holding Jackson for the first time

And at 3pm, my OB returned for the scariest check of my life. Who knew the words "8 centimeters" could

cause butterflies to fly out your ears? Praise God for that. The last 2 hours are a blur, as my temperature rose to 101F and I became more and more sleepy, and the doctors ordered antibiotics for the chorio infection. At 5pm, my OB checked me one last time and found I was complete. And after 5 rounds of pushing (in between which we had a decent amount of laughter, which was very much needed by this point), at 5:24pm Mike and I finally got to meet our son. 7lbs 10oz, 20" long. He was perfect. After 22 hours of labor, some 20 minutes of pushing, and a whole bunch of tears and laughter, it was all worth it. And I was ready for a cheeseburger. Maybe five.

Due to the long labor and fast delivery I had, Jack was born with transient tachypnea, which is common in babies whose moms do not push very long. When a baby moves through the birth canal, the contractions of the uterus typically put pressure on the baby to push excess fluid out of the lungs on their way into the world. If a mother has a short delivery, this pressure is cut short and many times babies are born with excess fluid in their lungs, causing them to breathe faster than normal. As a result, Jack had to remain in the hospital for extra monitoring for a few days before he could come home. By the 3rd day, needless to say Mike & I were very, VERY ansy and couldn't wait to come home. We were so ready to begin our lives as a family and settle into a new routine with our little one.

For the time being, Jack is doing amazing. He is the most beautiful, perfect, silly snuggler we've ever met. He has Mommy's round face and chin and Daddy's hair color, nose and lips. As all newborns do, he has bright beautiful blue eyes which we'll find out around 6-9 months if they remain that color or change. And our favorite part: he has hair :) Lots of it, with some curls down by the nape of his neck, just like Daddy. We're so in love with this little bundle it's hard to really explain just how amazing it is to be parents for the very first time. Extremely exhausting, but so worth it, to say the very least.

Jack's first night home was the worst due to being circumcised literally 2 hours before being discharged, so Fussy McFusserson kept us up all night. In the days following, he sleeps 3-4 hours each night as I have to wake him up for feeds. His pediatrician gave us the ok to let him go 4 hours if he can due to maintaining a good weight and having no major signs of jaundice or other health problems. So we're very thankful everything is going so well thus far.

Thank you so, SO much to all of our amazing family members and friends who provided us so much support in the months leading up to Jack's birth. We are so grateful to have brought him into the world surrounded by so much love. Now on to the most fun, demanding, and hardest part: parenthood. And seeing as we have two dogs to parent as well (one of whom thought Jack was treat when we first brought him home... Riley), this should be a very, very amusing journey.