Katy Perry Made Me Cry.

Photo Cred

Okay, to start let me begin with this:
I am absolutely not in any way in the midst of any form of baby fever, however, sometimes I get pregnancy
fever. Or better yet, I get pregnancy sick. Homesick  for the feeling of my sweet boy loungin in my belly. I miss it. I miss Hendrix inside of me all rolly polly tumbling in my womb.

With that said I am about to publicly admit something I probably shouldn't. The new Katy Perry video? The one below? It made me cry. Weep even. Tears and tears of I'm not sure what came flowing down my cheeks. 99% of the video meant nothing to me but the part at the 2 minute mark, That beautiful woman giving birth...ya, made me sob like a lil sissy.

Katy Perry - Firework from Katy Perry on Vimeo.

What a romantic idea. A woman in labor as a firework. and we were weren't we? Fireworks, that is. Bursting and popping with life and force and an energy untouchable. Never have I been more alive than when I was in labor.

Read more after the jump and check out some lovely pregnancy pictures. However, be warned they are not all safe for work.

Birthday Blues....

Excuse me but I've been a bit emotional the last day or so.
Who me? Emotional? Shocker I know..

I am busy planning Hendrix's 1st birthday.

*sigh*

and if that wasn't enough our dear friends John & Jody have welcomed their beautiful baby girl RoseLee into the world and well that just about done me over. Nothing tugs at the heart strings like a fresh out the oven bebe!
Happiest Birthday Wishes to that lil peanut!!

I am feeling very nostalgic for Henry's early days when I measured his existence in hours, days, and then even mere weeks.

I miss that fresh feeling of a brand new baby in my arms. The curled up body and that sweet baby's breathe. Oh god, I could have inhaled it all day every day. 

Those first few rookie hours where you go from being a single gal to crossing over to motherhood are so overwhelming. The good kind of overwhelming. 
All parents say it but really you have no idea...just no idea... how great it is. How sweet life can be. How profound.
Everything changes.
I miss that newness. The hospital and the nurses. The late night feeding sessions and first times. It is all just a memory now.

Mama Must Have; Baby Registry Edition

Baby Registries are terrifying. When I first got pregnant I was so psyched to bust out that little clicky gun and start scanning away but then we got to Babies R Us and I got that overwhelmed, deer in headlights, hazy, queasy feeling I've experienced only at Ikea and Disney World. Like where you are looking straight at something but you don't really see it? You feel me, right?
Want my tips for getting through the whole process? Head over to.... HERE.

I think I made six different registries at different stores and changed them up dozens of times before coming to a registry conclusion AKA I gave up and what was on there, was on there...hopefully it would be stuff I would end up using.

Well, some of it was useful and some of it is sitting on a shelf gathering dust.

So here my Mamas and Papas are my top five registry must haves!

1. The Boppy!

Just about every new parent will tell you how much they love their Boppy pillow. I use mine for everything. It is one of the few things that we have that the babe didn't grow out of. From tummy time to learning to sit to just plain maxin and relaxin, the Boppy is totally comfy and cozy. I am always finding new uses for it and I six months in and I still use it for our nursing session. One tip...I would try to get two covers for it. That way when you've got one washing you can cover it with the other...cause every time I take the dang cover off the kid barfs on it and then I gotta wash the actual pillow and it takes forever to dry... and yadah yadah yadah you get the idea.
2. The burp cloths that aren't really burp cloths but cloth diapers cut up.
Has anyone else noticed how insanely over priced burp cloths are? I mean, your kid is supposed to barf on them. Over and over and over again. They are supposed to mop up lust lots of barf and drool...so why is it they average at about a buck a pop? You need a ton of them too so you could literally spend a hundred bucks on pieces of fabric that will mop up disgusting fluids. My husband..I have to give him credit...suggested buying these cloth diapers and cutting them i half. Brilliant. They work so good!!!! They will soak up a ton of liquid. The only downside is when we cut them up the edges started to fray.

3. Stuff to protect ya Nips from being Nipped.

Whats worse than having to squeeze something the size of a small watermelon outta ya vag? Well, nothing..okay bad example but whats a close...err distant second? Having chapped nipples.Ya know what else sucks (hi, this post should be called birth control) having milk leak onto your bra and shirt. I'm not a huge fan of the lanoish??? brand. The nipple balm is so sticky you have to SCRUB to get it off your fingers. My top pick is the Gerber Moisturizing Balm. It's in stick form so your fingers never get icky, you don't have to wash it off before you nurse and it works. Nursing pads...two words that make me cringe...are a necessity. Ive tried a bunch of different brands and I prefer the Johnson and Johnson pads. They are thick but not heavy and they have a sticky spot to keep them attached to your bra so you don't end up with one peeking over the top of your bra.


4.Seventh Generation Cleaning Products
Cleaning pump parts and bottles and pacifiers and toys and other baby paraphernalia is major pain. I am super paranoid about chemicals on the baby's stuff. I'm loving Seventh Generation cleaning products. They are non toxic and hypoallergenic. The dish washing liquid rinses super clean and I use the disinfecting wipes on everything.
5. Swaddlers
While Hendrix was in the NICU I became the best swaddler. Seriously, if there were Olympics for swaddling I'd win gold. Maybe. At least the bronze. Then we got home and he learned to roll and move and kick his fat chubba legs and swaddling became a battle. In come the Kiddopotamus Swaddlers. The velcro is hardcore and your little one would have to do kung fu to get out of it. I recommend getting them in every size and fabric. you will use them I promise.


Veteran Mamas and Papas...what are your top recommendations? and Newbies...what are you dying to recieve at your shower?

"The boundaries of language I quietly cursed"

Today I received some news that I just can not shake. A dear friend of mine has lost her baby. She was three months pregnant. I am just so devastated for her and her family. I know the excitement and the love and the anticipation she was feeling and to have it end so suddenly is

well.
I have no words.

I have always been someone who could put to paper her emotions and thoughts, fears and dreams, and now?
There is nothing.
No words.

Who am I to even attempt to put down the sorrow and pain they are going through? Not the most skilled writer could form sentences deep enough to capture a parents heart after the loss of a child.

Not Twain or Miller or Dickens.


Certainly not me.

So take this as my moment of silence. For their beautiful family. For the little one who they had to say goodbye to before there was even a hello.

All my love to you tonight.

Baby Weight Buh-BYE!

Do you know...I mean really like KNOW what this picture is of? SERIOUSLY...this is me in my pre-prego skinny, super duper skinny jeans that I thought I would never EVER wear again. I couldn't fit into this bad boys at 8 weeks pregnant but butt got so big. This picture was taken Saturday. HOLY CRAP.
My favorite part of this story? I have been eating like a mad women. I eat and eat and eat and lose and lose and lose. I thank breastfeeding just about every 1-2 hours all day for this. BREASTFEEDING is so bomb.
I'm sorry I'm not trying to brag but I am JUST SO excited.
On the down side, my tummy is super FLABtastic and its gonna take some serious work to get it back to what it was...well, it's never going to be that flat again but ya know, close to it. Plus I did get my fair share of stretch marks.
I also should mention that I eat fairly healthy to begin with. I gained about 55 lbs during my pregnancy. On my 4 foot 11 inch frame it looked like a lot more. I'm so shocked it all came off. I left the hospital about 17 lbs lighter and the weight stuck for a month or so then just flew off. My diet consists of a lot of the following;
burritos on whole wheat wraps,with tons of salsa and guacamole, brown rice and chicken.
Stir fry with fresh veggie and tofu
Tofu pad tai
Twix bars
Water
Coffee
also..my favorite new recipe is black bean, corn, caramelized onions, BBQ sauce, and mozzarella cheese pizza on a whole wheat crust
yum.
I just started a weekly yoga class but this is more for my mind than my body since I don't think one hour a week is really going to make much a difference.

How did you all lose the baby weight?

My Birth Story; Part 2 of 2

I keep pushing. He isn't budging. I can't explain it but I know something is wrong. I scream in my head but I'm too exhausted to get the words out. To fight. To fight for him.
"Get him out!" I scream.
Typical mother in labor pleading they assume. But no, I know in my heart he is hurting. I can feel it. My body is on fire with his pain. The contractions take a back seat and I know my child is in danger.
Someone brings over a tray with surgical equipment on it.
"No" says the doctor. "I think she can do it."

I push. I vomit. I pass out.
A record skipping.

Again, the tray is brought to my Doctors side.

"Not yet"

"Get him out! WHY isn't he moving??"

Still just the tip of his head is emerged. I push so hard.

I could move mountains.

Part seas.

Change tides.

Mother Earth.

But I can't move him. He is stuck.
and so finally the tray is there again. and they cut me. I feel nothing. But a gush. and he is here.
I feel relief for a split second.
and then he is in the air. Being traded off to someone else.
I see him
Gray.
His arms and legs hanging.
The room is flooded with people. It is dead silent. Not a peep. No congratulations, or celebrations, or cries.

Dead Silence.

I hear a time. 12:27. Happy Birthday.
I hear another time.
They call it out
2 minutes and 11 seconds.
Starting resuscitation.

"Is he okay?" I ask. You know you are in trouble when no one will look you in the eyes. Eye contact becomes a dangerous territory. No one wants to lie to your face.
"Oh sure he is just stunned." says a nurse.
I look up at my husband who will not take his eyes off the flock of Doctors surrounding Hendrix. "Is he okay?" I beg him to answer me truthfully.
I'm not sure he hears me or who he is talking to but he repeats"he's okay" over and over and over. Convincing me? Convincing himself? Pleading with the universe?

I know he is lying.

They call it out 3 minutes and 36 seconds.

"Is he going to die?" I ask the nurse

"They are doing the best they can"

They call is out 5 minutes and 7,842 seconds.
7 Minutes and a lifetime.
8 Minutes and the rest of your life flashing before your eyes.
9 Minutes and the rest of your life without your baby flashing before your eyes.
11 Minutes and how long before they call out a time of death?

Finally someone tells me he is taking small, shallow breaths.
He can not breath enough on his own to sustain himself.
He is dying. On his own he is dead.
They are going to intubate him
But first, I can see my son. He is not making noise and he is not opening his eyes. I will only have a few seconds.

and then he is here. Inches from my face.

and I sing to him.


I´ll tell you something
I think you'll understand


and there it is...


When I say that something
I wanna hold your hand

He opens then....

He knows my voice. He is looking for me. Until he heard my singing he had no reason to widen those big blues.

To expose that night sky.

Hello Ocean eyes.

My stormy sea.

My rainfall.

My furious wind.

I am Mother Earth.

We have weathered the elements together.

Away he goes. But I still feel him. Off to Intensive care. Where hours later we will meet again. I will hold his tiny hand. Kiss his teeny fingers. Caress his sweet head. Bring him to my breast. Nurse him and watch as the seconds tick tock to minutes to days and home we will go. and thus is the beginning of my journey as a mother. Where my son was healed and a healer all at once. and I went from being a girl to a women to a mother to mother earth. This is our story.

I'm not sure you could call it a fairy tale.

But it sure did have a happy ending.



For more info and newborn pictures head over to HERE

My Birth Story; Part 1 of 2

Oh labor stories. I have a confession to make to all my single ladies. We post preggos, ladies of the belly no longer, new found mamas, we lie. We lie a lot. We lie about labor. Maybe it's because some of us forget. Maybe it's because we don't want to sound like a wuss. But mostly it's because we don't want to frighten you.

But today ladies. I'm going be brutally honest. So read with caution. Please keep one thing in mind, every single second is worth it in a way you can never understand until you are there. There is this impossible to describe factor to becoming a parent that only a mother or father can know. It is what keeps us coming back for more. It's what makes people like Michelle Duggar have 9,537 babies. It's a total high. So don't be scared off, k?

I went into Labor on a Friday evening. Michael was working. I started to have contractions that hurt a bit. I took a warm shower. They didn't go away. I walked the house. They didn't go away. We headed into the hospital at about 6 pm.
The contractions were a fierce tightening in my belly. The rock hard sensation of your abs while straining to do a sit-up. The pain was dull just a deep menstrual cramp.
I was checked in and found to be dilated at 4 centimeters. That was one more than I had already been.
Michael and I settled into our room. Florescent lighting, tacky wallpaper, pure white sheets, and a lumpy pillowcase. I walked, I bounced, I stretched.
Michael pulled open the blinds. Turned down the lights.

A beautiful view. Nighttime city lights. Cars racing. People moving and around us the world was paused. Just pain and beauty in a hospital room.

Michael put on Death Cab.

If I could open my mouth
Wide enough for a marching band to march out

I pace the room.

They would make your name sing
And bend through alleys and bounce off all the buildings.

I sing to you. Can you hear me?

I wonder what you are thinking in there. Are you scared? Are you nervous? My tiny love curled into a ball. You have no idea the hell we are about to go through. I'm so sorry I think. I'm so sorry for this. I wish I could keep you in there. But selfishly, I want you here. I will make it up to you with a lifetime of kisses and understanding and complete and total devotion. I promise.

I lay down to rest. It's nearly 2 am. Last call. Do you hear it my sweet? Last call for you too. Time to finish up and clear the area.

You don't have to go home but you can't stay here.

Then it comes. A pop. An explosion inside my body. I flinch. You jump. It's as if the floodgates within have opened. Your tiny Ocean is drained out of me.

A Flood.

A Tsunami.

I am Mother Earth.

The warm liquid that has been your security blanket puddles around me. Leaks onto the floor. They mop it up.

Biohazard.

Waste.

How can these words apply to something so precious?


I wrap my arms around my belly. It is practically half the size it had been. It's all you in there now.

Then the real pain comes. By now the sun is rising.

It comes on strong.

Earthquake.

Landslide.

Mother Earth.

The pain is so deep. It's like your heart breaking only it is in your core. It's your whole body breaking. I swear it's your body mourning the loss of your womb. Crying out. Grieving.

I scream. I beg my husband to call the nurses.
"press the button" I plead
"help me"

I panic.

My husband pulls me up and we walk. I bounce. I get on top of the pain. I control. I listen hard to the music. Every word is a slight morphine drippity drop. A sentence can cure a backache. A lyric can ease a contraction.

I float. I skim by the pain. Every contraction I swear I can not take another. Then while my body rests I swear I can bear more.

By now I have been awake over 24 hours. I start to see things out of the corner or my eye that aren't there. My cat slinks by the bed. A bouncing, shooting star grazes the ceiling. A tall man stands in the corner. I am delirious with sleep exhaustion.
I give in.
I'm waving my white flag.

I remember little. My husband refuses to leave my side. He is not squeamish. If he is, he hides it. He is strong for us. I see pride in his eyes.

I fall asleep in between contractions. I giggle at the thought of pain relief. I am not scared of the big needle but I am scared It'll harm you. All the drugs...do you feel them? I say a silent prayer to whatever God is out there to take care of you. I feel enormous amounts of guilt as I wait for the pain relief.
That
Never
Comes

The epidural doesn't work. They give me a shot of something. It does not work. They give me another epidural. It does NOT work.

I am not dilatingg so they give me Pitocin.

In between contractions I doze. I listen to the music. Hang on every word to get me through the pain. I recognize the voice. My husband is playing me Beck. The songs we fell in love to.

Let the window down
Feel the moonlight on your skin

My stomach folds and creases within itself.

Let the desert wind
Cool your aching head

Twists and turns.

Let the weight of the world
Drift away instead

Oragami. Mishapes.

The Pitocin brings on contractions that have no break. They last 5 minutes. 10 minutes. Forever. Today. Tomorrow. It feels as if its been years.
The pain is maddening. I envision myself being carried away on a stretcher. Locked in a padded room. Crawling up the walls. Scratching at the door.
I swear I will go crazy if it doesn't stop.

I have no concept of time. I have no sense of direction. I am so lost in the pain that I forget why I'm there. I forget where you are.

Finally they relieve me with a spinal. It won't last. I sleep. I wake because I am growling in my slumber. The contractions are back. I hear my gutural noises before I realize it's the pain I feel.

They give me more of the epidural. It numbs my toes but not my tummy. They up the Pitocin. Finally I am 10 centimeters. You are coming. I remember you. I am not lost. I focus. I pull it together. The bring a large mirror over so I can watch you emerge.

I see someone I don't recognize.

I am war torn country.

A natural disaster.

Mother earth.

I push. I push for days. I push. Then I vomit. The I let my eyes roll in the back of my head and I pass out. Over and over I proceed. Push.Vomit.Sleep. All three provide some relief. An hour goes by. I see your little head. It its covered in dark hair. Just like I knew it would be. Like you were in my dreams.

'I know you!" I say. "Ive known you all along"




to be continued...




Read Part Two Here