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tubal reversal baby

Two under two…

My two under two.

I’m no stranger to being a parent, having been one for 20 (almost 21) years. I’ve been a married parent, a single parent, a step parent, a surrogate parent… yeah, I know parenting.  Or, so I thought!

When I was nearing the end of my pregnancy my partner in crime, Scott, kept telling me, “You’re going to need help… Seriously, Sandy, you’re going to need help.” In my hormonal state, every  time he spouted that sentence at me, I wanted to slap him. I am an independent, fully capable, woman… help?! *SNORT*

I had a plan. A well laid plan. In my head, not on paper, because everyone knows everything looks easier on paper.  ANYway, about the plan: I would continue breastfeeding Dublin and perfect tandem nursing, thus achieving my goal of breastfeeding each of my kids until they turn two. I was going to get up every morning by eight. I was going to have a clean house.  My days would be filled with productivity… from playing structured games with my almost two year old, Dublin, all the while I would be baby wearing my newest addition, Juniper, in one of the many baby carrying devices I recently acquired.  We would go to the park, we would play on our patio, we would walk to get Starbucks… oh the fun we would have, the three musketeers!  And why shouldn’t I be able to achieve this, after all I’d been able to do it two times before!

Here is where the universe has a hearty laugh at my expense; as well as all the other moms who have more than one child under a certain age. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA…. And they laugh and laugh and laugh! This is where they say, “Sandy… it doesn’t really count when one child is 20 years old and the other is 20 months. That’s sorta like cheating.”

Two under two… it’s a new game, with new rules.

I know that there are wonder-moms out there; I’ve seen them in pictures. I’m pretty sure they exist. I, however, am not one of them….

On a good day I get up around 8. But on a bad day, it could be 4 a.m., 2 a.m., noon, 3pm, or any other random number that resides on a clock.  My new translation of a good day is when I get 4 hours of consecutive sleep, I don’t have many of those kind of good days.  A good day is when the family room floor is toy free for 2 hours (that usually happens during nap time). A good day is when the dishes are done and the laundry has made it out of the dryer and as far as a laundry basket. My bedroom floor currently has about 5 filled baskets. I think it’s time to buy more baskets.

Most days I feel like a cow… no, not in the traditional “I feel fat” sort of way, I’m too tired to care about THAT right now. No, I mean literally… I feel like a milk supply outlet. If I’m not feeding Juniper, I’m feeding Dublin. And sometimes, when I’m feeling adventurous and ambidextrous, I’ll feed both at the same time. Maybe I should say when I’m feeling adventurous and amBOOBextrous! Haha. ANYway,  I seem to constantly have a boob out. Don’t get me wrong… I’m a happy cow; I come from California after all! I’m a thrilled and happy cow, except when Dublin bites me. Then I’m not so happy. Or when he drags his teeth… oh my friggon lord, that HURTS!

**On  a side note: I’ve lost ALL of my Juniper weight!! Just don’t get me started about how much Dublin weight I still have to lose! Ugh! **

So, after all my firm and unequivocal “NO, I WILL NOT NEED HELP!!!” it is with a enormous relief that I hand off Dublin to Scotts mom when she arrives several mornings during the week to watch him while I run back to bed and try to catch a couple of hours more sleep, Juniper willing. Or, while I clean the bathroom… Or, while I try and catch up on any number of things I’m currently behind in!!

I have a new found respect for all women who have performed this juggling act before me, those who can do it with grace and style. I’m 5.5 weeks into this parenting two under two and have not found my groove yet, but when I do… I hope to join the ranks of those other fabulous mommy’s out there that actually make it beyond their front door with spawn in tow. (I have ventured out by myself for walks in the double stroller, but the thought of going to Target BY MYSELF accompanied by both kids has me breaking out in a cold sweat.) While I’ve not found my groove yet, I have to say this new chapter in life is a challenge that I am feeling so blessed to be venturing in to. Bring on the spit up, the poop, the crying, the tantrums… because at the end of the day, when I get a toddler hug or a newborn smile… my heart melts with joy.  Yup, I’m feeling very blessed to have the opportunity to do this two under two thing.

Bye-bye Baby Bump, HELLO BABY!

One night I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t get comfortable, being huge as a tank and all, then the next night I couldn’t sleep because I needed to spend every second of the night watching my new baby girl breathe.

I feel as if I’m a sleepwalker, my hair is disheveled, my clothes a mixture of maternity and regular sizes, my eating erratic, and my sleep schedule is nonexistent. .. and I feel like every second of this discombobulated state of existence I find myself in is a miracle. I keep pinching myself and wondering how it could be that I am, after 20 years, doing this all again. How could it be that I had one child and in a blink of an eye, now I have THREE!

It seems as if this last pregnancy flew by without any pomp and circumstance. Where we were counting down the days that didn’t seem to budge with Dublin’s pregnancy, this last pregnancy flew by. The only part that seemed to drag was the last couple of weeks, during which time if felt as if I would never go into labor. But when I did… boy did I!

If deliveries had a theme, mine would have been Go Go Speed Racer.  More than one person in the room commented along the lines of,“OMG, this is happening so fast!”

 

Some of the memorable comments from the whirlwind birthing session:

The nurse- “Wow, this is you at 8 cm and no drugs?!?” (In response to my laughing at something).

Me- “Yes, this is me… but don’t worry, you’ll see me in pain soon enough. I can totally handle these contractions, but I know that the ones at the end hurt like nobody’s business… so yeah, you’ll see me in extreme pain soon enough….”

20 min’s later….I’m in extreme pain, hearing this:

Scott- “OMG… this is happening fast, this is really happening fast”

Scott- “There’s the head!”

(WATER BREAKS…)

Scott- “OMG… this is happening fast!!”

Midwife- “Get ready to push the body out”

Scott, Midwife, nurse– “OH WOW!!!”

Nurse- “Did you even push?”

Me- “I guess she road the wave out….”

 

While waiting for my little girl to make her arrival and send me into labor, I felt like such a hypochondriac. I have a history of fast labor, but always got the impression that I mentioned it to the doctors and nurses, they didn’t fully believe me.  So when it all happened so fast, like I had been suggesting it might… I felt a HUGE “BOOya!” moment! I felt like a bit of a celebrity, with the way every new nurse greeted me with a, “So, I hear you had a fast labor…”  Yes, I am legend! 😉

No drugs, one push, 6lbs 6 oz…. And we welcomed Juniper Audrey into our lives.  

Juniper

Holding Juniper in the hospital… Love at first sight!

Third Times a Charm

This is me and my little (almost) 15 month old D-Man.

Me and my little D-Man.

Tomorrow I’ll be 16 weeks. For the last few weeks, about once a week, I pull out my at-home Doppler and give a little listen to the newbies heartbeat. Once a week I’m all smiles to hear it thump thump thumpin’ away. Everything is going great and in 24 (omg-that’s-not-so-far-away!!) weeks, we’ll be welcoming the newbies arrival. This pregnancy seems to be flying by. Perhaps it’s my days spent chasing my little D-Man around the house that is making this all fly by so fast. Whatever the cause, the days are flying and it has me thinking about some big decisions I’ll be having to make soon enough.


When I had Dublin I wasn’t really nervous about the birth. I kept telling myself that I’d done it before, I can do it again. This time, however, I’m sort of freaking out. Perhaps it’s because instead of a nineteen year gap to cushion pains memory, I only have 14 months. I remember vividly my thinking, during the middle of it all, this HURTS. THIS REALLY F*#!ING HURTS!!!


Both of my previous deliveries were fast and furious– as in, the room isn’t even ready and I’m about to plop out a baby, F-A-S-T. With both of my previous deliveries I experienced the panic that comes when you see your baby’s heartbeat drop drastically with each contraction. With both of my previous deliveries, before the doctor arrived, the nurses dropped the “C” word (c-section) a few times. Both of my previous deliveries ended with lots of stitches to repair down there (ouch!). So this time around, when the doctor put the option of an elective c-section on the table, I’ve been giving it a lot of thought.


I love the idea of scheduling my due date. It would make arranging child care for Dublin sooo much easier. I love the idea of not feeling the pain of contractions. I love the idea of not having to see my baby’s heart rate show signs of distress. However, the thought of a needle in my back makes me want to hurl from fright. Also, the thought of being numb from my waste down and feeling the tugging as they pull the baby out of my stomach into the world… Fright. Hurling. AWK.. So any way I look at it, I’m a bit nervous and scared. BUT… not as nervous and scared as I am at the thought of being a mom to TWO children under TWO. Now that… THAT thought gives me night terrors! 😉

Pregnant at 42…

No, Im not psycho... just like to be sure. (7 tests)

Yes, you counted right-- that's SEVEN tests. I wanted to be sure!

If luck be a lady and I be that lady, then I am so knocked up right now! Despite the fact that we were on the look out for a double lined pregnancy test, it was still a shock to get one. Then to get another one and the one after that one… and 7 tests later, still seeing all the positive results lined up in a row, I’m in a state of disbelief. I feel so very lucky and oh-so-very scared at the same time.

Though I’m obviously beating out the statistics for a woman my age in the conception department, it’s still very scary- all those statistics running around in my head. I know it’s possible to beat the odds, I just did it with the fabulously healthy little one-year-old running around my house. But will I beat the odds again?? I truly hope so.

I’m 7 weeks along, or at least I think. Being me, things were not cut and dry. First off, I got an “inconclusive” blood test. Never even knew that “maybe pregnant” was an option for pregnancy blood tests! It did, after a few days and a retest, give me the positive I was hoping for. Our first ultrasound appointment, where we were supposed to see a heartbeat, showed that we were earlier than THEY thought. I’d have been freaking out, but I suspected with a certainty that I’d ovulated late. So now we’re waiting for our next ultrasound, which will be in a week.

Meanwhile, I hold my breath, look at my son and repeat, “Yes… I CAN do this!”