A very happy anniversary

First we had no power (three days). Then we lost internet (not even two full days, but it seemed like forever). Now things are back to normal, thankfully.

And just in time for our wedding anniversary.

Today is our seventh. Seven just seems... like a long time. Doesn't it? Six is just a little more than five, which isn't much at all. And seven is inching closer to ten, which is a really long time. Ha.. I know in a few years I'll probably look back on this time and think how we were just starting out.

We are, in a way, just starting out. Two babies, only one who is walking and neither who are fluently talking. It's exciting!

I always worried about being the older parents, thanks to infertility. But now that we are, it's kind of nice to feel younger. I know we're not all that old, but we could easily have teenagers (no lie - we freak out a little when we find facebook friends from high school who are now grandparents. Okay, so they are usually step-grandparents, but still). Instead, we are parents to babies, and at the very beginning of growing our family.

Of course I didn't expect it to be this way seven years ago today. When I was struggling with infertility, I used to say if I could just know. Know how it would all turn out. If I'd be a mother. If I'd be childless forever. But I don't think I could have handled knowing that first night, after the party had ended. Could you even imagine? I envision being visited by a guardian angel of sorts, and having it all played on a projector screen in front of me. I know myself and I know I would have broken down watching the first five years and would have been crying so hard I wouldn't have even made it to the part where it showed my babies' faces. I would have feared the cross with every fiber of my being.

But if I were told we would have babies... I would have been okay. I could have made it through. And what good would that have done? I was forced to trust God during those years because had no idea how it would all end. God, in His infinite wisdom, brings it one day at a time.

I often think about where I'd be today if not for infertility. Three kids by now? Maybe four? I know I would have taken a lot for granted. I'm not saying that all fertile women take their families for granted, I'm just saying that I would have. I know this because I catch myself doing it even now. Me, the girl who cried for nearly six years because she wanted so badly to be a mother, sometimes takes her family for granted. Just tonight when Luke was doing something - I can't honestly even remember what - and I didn't want to have to deal with it right at that moment, I gently reminded myself that if I could have asked my infertile self if she'd want to deal with a fussy baby, she would have said yes. She would gladly cut off her right arm to deal with the fussiest baby that ever lived. And I would have. Well maybe not cut it off. Or, if I did cut it off I would have at least hoped for a pleasant baby. That only seems fair.

Well this has gotten very off topic. So I will wrap it up by saying happy anniversary to the most wonderful husband I could have ever dreamed of. I love everything about our life and wouldn't have it any other way.

Preparing for the worst

Our second natural disaster in one week! Ahh! Speaking of which, I swear I feel aftershocks all the time. But yet I don't feel the actual aftershocks. Go figure.

Anyways, before I get into our storm preps, I must point out that Luke hit a big milestone recently - he has officially been out of my womb longer than he was in it. He wasn't in there quite nine months (and, honestly, the first two weeks you're just gearing up for ovulation, so that shouldn't count), so it probably happened last week or so.

That's all to say that today he turns nine months old.

This kid is all smiles until the camera comes out!

I won't brag about how big he's getting (see my last post!), but he is looking more and more like a grown-up little boy.

For more about Luke, you can check out my other blog.

Now back to hurricane news... We decided to do some preparations today in case we lose power. And, if we do, there's always a chance that with widespread outages, especially along the coast, they might not restore ours for a few days. That, I suppose, is the worst case scenario.

So our whole family hit the grocery store (a first) and it was like the blind leading the blind! We walked around aimlessly, while Ryan googled what we should buy on his iphone. And you'd think he'd know exactly what to do since his station has been going overboard on hurricane coverage all week! But no.

We ended up with some peaches (the babies love them), chips and pretzels, applesauce for Luke, cereal, granola bars, diapers, water, milk and diet coke. I know, real nutritious. And I just couldn't bring myself to buy canned goods. I'll drive to my in-laws in North Carolina before I'm desperate enough to eat beans out of a can.

We hopefully will keep some things cold in a cooler, and in our fridge, until it gets too warm. I had already bought food to make meals for now through Monday - homemade spaghetti sauce, eggplant parm, pizza (see a trend? I like to get the most out of my ingredients) - and I'm still going to try to make them. I made the sauce today, will probably do the eggplant tonight, and then if we lose power I'll just warm them up on the grill. We also looked up how to do the pizza on the grill (with a pre-made crust that I have) and that should be easy.

Hopefully it'll all turn out to be nothing. I can actually hear Ryan on the TV in the other room talking to the meteorologist on his 4 p.m. show and it sounds like they're saying it might not be too bad. Let's hope.

If Irene does hit here, though, you can rest assured that one reporter will be on the story... tracking the storm... bringing you all the breaking news. He'll just be doing it from my living room because his mommy doesn't let him out in the rain!

A plateau

Failure to thrive.

Not exactly the label a mother wants placed on her little baby. And yet, that's what happened this morning at Luke's 9-month check-up. It was written on his chart, as his diagnosis on our payment form, and on his lab slip.

Does this look like a baby who is failing to thrive?

I was actually looking forward to this appointment, excited that he was doing so much better than the first few check-ups that he had, back when he never slept and seemed to have an allergy to dairy. He's been doing amazingly well, the picture of health. He's crawling, pulling up, saying "dada," even waving and saying "hi" when the mood hits him.

I knew he hadn't been gaining weight. At three appointments back in the Spring he had plateaued, and on our home scale he hadn't gained anything since then. But just recently I had decided that it just had to be broken. I weighed him in my arms on our adult scale, and then weighed myself alone, and his weight seemed higher. I relaxed.

Then this morning I placed him on the baby scale at the pediatrician's office and there it was - 16 lbs., 8 ounces. He'd gained nothing since May. I was still calm, not too concerned as we walked back to the exam room. Then, when a few minutes later the nurse called to me again - wanting to weigh Luke a second time because something wasn't right, maybe the scale was off-balance - I got nervous. Great, I thought, knowing full well it wasn't the scale.

The doctor, who was within earshot for the two weigh-ins, eventually examined him and was delighted by his progress. Advanced developmentally, she said. He was perfect, doing everything that she looks for, like trying to get her attention, making noises, bouncing on his strong legs.

Then she asked if I had any concerns, like she always does. Well, there's the weight thing...

She had forgotten about that, hadn't checked his charts yet. Then she saw it - 16,8 three out of the last four times, with one 16,11 thrown in there. The dots on the graph rose steadily the first six months and then flatlined for the most recent three. She was concerned. I was becoming increasingly nervous.

He would need blood drawn, she said. A couple nurses examined his tiny arms only to determine they didn't feel comfortable doing it and we would have to go to a lab.

The doctor mentioned some possible things it could be. Immature kidneys, for one, which she says would not be a big problem. He would grow out of it and we would just have to watch it for a couple years, and I think she mentioned a medication but I can't remember exactly. She also mentioned food allergies, and Celiac Disease. They would test for it all.

She said it's not my supply because he's not fussy. He tells me when he wants to nurse, and I feel as if I'm nursing him a lot. He seems satisfied when he's done. I told her about how I avoided one side for a while one day because he had bit me there and how it became engorged. She agreed that that was evidence my supply is just fine.

I also asked about feeding him more solids, maybe something high-calorie, and she said that nursing is most important right now. He will gain more from that than from anything else.

It could be - and here's what we're hoping, of course - that it's just his gaining pattern. He gains a lot, then plateaus, then gains, then plateaus. We're also hoping it could be because at the very same time he stopped gaining, he started sleeping through the night, moving all around, and eating solids. He was literally attached to me before he moved to his crib, nursing constantly. Maybe his previous weight gain was inflated.

She also said - and this, hopefully, is important - that because the first part of his exam she looked at him without yet knowing about the weight issue and thought he was the picture of health, that she doesn't think it's anything very serious. He isn't showing any symptoms of a bigger problem. He's not sick, he's not fussy, he's sleeping great, he's developmentally ahead, he's moving all around, he's happy, he's talkative... So hopefully all those things add up to this just being a fluke. That he's just not a big gainer.

I left nervous and on edge. I called Ryan and told him that he and Clara would be accompanying us to the lab for Luke's blood draw. I needed the support of another adult.

My niece had some similar issues when she was around the same age as Luke, so I called my sister. She said her daughter would plateau for a few months, then gain right before her next check-up, so the doctor never had cause for concern. Okay, I thought, my niece is fine so hopefully a growth spurt is right around the corner for Luke.

I then called my mom on the way and told her everything. She, a nurse, couldn't think of anything else more serious that it could be and really thinks that he is fine. She said she had come across a prayer card for St. Rita right when I called, so she was going to ask for her intercession.

Sweet Clara was trying to hold Luke's hand

On a side note, when we arrived at the lab (which specialized in pediatrics), Luke started hiccuping in the waiting room. I kid you not, three separate people we encountered took one look at him and said, "He's got the hiccups, you know what that means? He's growing!" Apparently I'm the only one who has never heard that Old Wives Tale. When the reception said it first, I replied, "Good, because that's why we're here!" Then when we returned to our seat, a woman sitting near us said the same thing. Finally, the woman drawing his blood said it as well. Maybe just a coincidence, but I'd like to think it was a sign. Not that his hiccups were actually making him grow, of course, but that he's going to grow. Maybe that was already St. Rita's intercession letting us know he's going to be okay.

It's a good thing I had that little ray of hope, because the blood draw experience was worse than I could have imagined.

Without recounting every gory details, I'll just say that they tried his right arm, then his left arm, then his right arm again, before pricking his finger and squeezing out tiny amounts over about ten minutes. The second arm was the worst - the nurse, who was visibly stressed and sweating, fished around in there for a vein for what seemed like forever while he screamed in my arms. And this was the lab that specialized in babies.

They drew enough blood for some of the tests, but not all. They're going to ask our pediatrician's office which tests are a priority. I'm hoping we don't have to go back.

Notice his little band-aid from his blood draw

So my poor little baby had a rough day, but did surprisingly well. He still charmed everyone he came in contact with, and really only cried that one time. He's a trooper.

We won't find out the results until probably next Wednesday, and I'm hoping I can maintain my anxiety level until then.

If you get a chance, please say a prayer for Lukie, that he's okay, that this is all making a big deal out of nothing, that he gains weight. That he starts to thrive. I know your prayers are so powerful and I can't thank you enough.

And I'd love to hear if any of you have slow-gaining babies. But, please don't share with me anything that will raise my anxiety. I've had about all I can handle for one day.

Our day was much more exciting today

Today started out fairly normal.

Clara had her final Toddler Time in Nature class. And it turns out... she loves nature! It became very clear to me I need to get this child out in it more.

There was a lot of this...

And some of this...

And with all that admiring of nature going on, she and her little friend brought up the rear...

Sorry for the blur, but I just love her face

(On a sidenote - In what will be a case of blogs colliding for some of you, the sweet little munchkin behind Clara is another Clara, and is often featured on this widely popular blog written by her very awesome and talented parents.)

We then returned home, I started getting dinner ready for later, and had some lunch. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until I was standing over the stove stirring a sauce and the house started shaking like crazy, like nothing I've ever felt before. And it wasn't stopping.

For some reason an earthquake didn't even cross my mind.

My first thought was that it was the washing machine. But then my brain, realizing in a matter of seconds that it wasn't on, naturally moved on to house exploding. I'm not sure what could cause it to explode, but I was sure it was about to.

With the whole house still shaking, I walked from the kitchen into the living room and saw Luke sitting on the floor and Clara standing near him with a pretty freaked out look on her face.

At this point Ryan was in the room and I'm not sure what I said to him, but I scooped up Luke and headed outside, hoping Ryan would grab Clara. I wasn't going to be in the house when it exploded!

As soon as I looked outside, I saw the windows shaking in the house across the street. It wasn't just us! Just as the shaking stopped, my mind immediately switched from exploding house to earthquake.

That's when one of my neighbors came outside and asked, "So that wasn't just my house?" My sentiments exactly. At that very moment, our dog and cat escaped through the front door (it was bedlam!). I sat Luke in the grass and we chased them down.

Upon returning inside, L from GIMH was calling me and we discussed how freaked out we both were. I don't think I stopped shaking for about ten minutes.

Ryan then left for work, where it was sure to be a busy day for him. He was on the air from 2:30 until 4:30 and we were glued to it at our house.

Turns out the epicenter of the 5.8 quake was about 40 miles from our house. Craziness!

We didn't have any damage, thankfully, and nothing was even out of place except one picture that was off-kilter.

And is anyone else reminded of this cameo appearance by my news-anchor-moonlighting-as-an-actor husband on a now-canceled NBC primetime show? Hopefully today's quake wasn't as mysterious.

So since Ryan wasn't coming home for dinner and emergency rules applied, the kids and I ate in the living room. We also had some fun with laundry baskets...

What a day! And one we'll be recounting for years to come, I'm sure. And here I thought I had nothing exciting to share!

Oh.. and I am having more ice cream tonight. I had vowed to space my sweet indulgences out a bit but, again, emergency rules apply.

Our day

I don't know about you, but I was fascinated by this post. Riveted by it. I wanted to know more. Maybe it was because she, like me, is a stay-at-home mom and I could totally relate. Maybe it was because she wrote humbly about her stresses and seemingly crazy moments during her day as a mom of three under three. Maybe I am just nosy.

I knew I wanted to do my own. Partly because I found hers so helpful that I thought maybe others could relate to mine, and partly to see if perhaps I am busier than I actually think.

But it turns out... I'm not. When I sat down to detail my day, I realized mine was no where near as interesting as Tridentine Wife's! Yes, she has three, much more taxing than my two under two. But still, I should have a jam-packed schedule, shouldn't I?

Instead, my days were filled with tons of down time, not much housework and a lot of help from my husband. I embarrassingly sleep in a lot of days while Ryan gets the kids breakfast. I have absolutely no schedule to speak of. Why did I want to post this again?

Believe it or not, I wrote out the blow-by-blow of TWO days and never posted either. I guess I hoped the second would be better/busier/more impressive. It wasn't.

But then I started thinking. So what? So my husband helps a lot. So I have a lot of down time and my days are sometimes really ordinary. Maybe we don't usually leave the house. Or do neat things. Or do much at all besides playing on the floor in our living room. Maybe someone can relate to that.

Maybe not. But either way, here is how our day went down today...

8:30 - Wake up to Luke crying. Wow, he slept late! Ryan goes to get him, as he does every morning, and brings him to me to nurse in bed.

9:00 - Luke seems full, so I put him back in his crib, and I go back to bed.

9:15 - When Clara's talking/kissing/playing turns into yelling/whining, Ryan gets up to get her. I get up too, since Luke hasn't fallen back asleep.

9:30 - Ryan goes out to mow while I get Luke changed and dressed. Clara and Luke play.

She found whacking him in the head to be very amusing. And, luckily, so did Luke. 

10:00 - After more playing, I try putting Luke down again.

10:30 - Since I'm feeling stressed for no apparent reason (I swear it's hormones), Ryan comes back in and gives the kids breakfast (Luke never fell asleep), while I take a shower. Both kids get fruit, Clara eats two eggs, and Luke has some scrambled egg yolk.

11:00 - I start on dinner by making a pesto sauce. In a total lapse of judgment, I use a quarter pound of parmesan cheese instead of a quarter cup. Oops.

11:30 - I eat a sandwich for breakfast. Or is it lunch at this point? Ryan folds laundry that's been sitting in laundry baskets for days and does more laundry.

12:00 - Luke goes down for a nap yet again. In order to not waste the entire batch of pesto, I decide to head to the grocery store to get TWO more bunches of basil to make up for my mistake. I guess we'll be freezing some!

12:30 - Return from the store to find Luke awake and sitting on Ryan's lap. Attempt number four failed. It's just one of those days! I nurse Luke and then more play time.

Lately Clara will stand at the door, holding a purse, and say, "Bye-bye!"

1:00 - An exhausted Luke goes down for a nap yet again (fingers crossed!). Clara has lunch while I finish the pesto and Ryan finishes mowing. She eats blueberries, banana, and leftover pizza from the night before.

2:00 - Ryan gives Clara a bath and I get her dressed while he showers and gets ready for work. Luke wakes up and he and Clara play.

2:15 - Ryan leaves for work.

2:45 - Clara goes down for her nap, much later than normal. Sometimes if she's happy and playing, I just put it off. The later she naps, the quicker dinner-time seems to come!

3:00 - Luke eats his lunch (a cut-up peach and blueberries) in his high chair while I clean the kitchen and make him some food for the next few days (more peach, which I lightly boil since it wasn't ripe, and sauteed squash cut in bite-size pieces). He is only happy in his high-chair while we're eating if he has food to feed himself, so I'm starting to come up with some ideas beyond blueberries and banana.

3:30 - Luke plays in the living room while I pick up our bedroom and make the bed.

4:00 - Nurse Luke and put him down for a nap.

4:30 - I go on the computer (to start this post actually), but I hear Luke starting to fuss in his crib. He never fell asleep.

4:45 - Luke's fussing gets louder and I go to get him. I nurse him at the computer as I continue typing, until he wants to play with the keyboard.

5:30 - Clara wakes up from her (late) nap and the babies play in the living room while we watch Dada on the news. The three of us share a banana. Clara seems especially fussy and I can see she is getting a molar, so I give her some ibuprofen.

6:30 - As I watch Luke crawling around the room, I realize he can now choose where to go and what to do and it fascinates me to see what he does. He spends a lot of time looking out the front door, one of Clara's favorite spots as well.

6:30 - I work on dinner (making chicken for chicken pesto pasta) while the babies play. I check on them every couple minutes, especially now that Luke is all over the place.

6:45 - I feed Luke some baby food.

7:00 - Crunch time. Change poopy diapers and put on jammies as both babies scream, all while starting water for pasta, getting chicken out of the oven, getting salads ready and making sure everything is ready right at the exact time. As this is happening, Ryan is texting me to tell me he now has to travel for work on Friday, meaning he'll be gone all day.

7:20 - Ryan arrives home for dinner and I hand him Luke as soon as he gets in the door. I work on some last minute preparations for dinner while Ryan gets both babies in their high chairs.

7:30 - As usual, the second I sit down, Clara puts her hands together to pray. Clara eats bow tie pasta with marinara sauce (I didn't try the pesto with her since I wasn't sure about nuts) and chicken, while Luke has squash. After eating most of it, he is clearly exhausted and starts crying mid-bite. I nurse him at the kitchen table as I finish eating. Oh, and the pesto was a success! Ryan raves about it. Good thing, since we're going to be having it a lot in the coming weeks ;)

8:00 - Luke is sound asleep on me so I put him in his crib. Ryan brushes Clara's teeth, puts her to bed, and then he returns to work. As I clean up from dinner, I hear Luke crying in his crib. I told you it was one of those days!

8:15 - I get Luke and nurse him while watching Bachelor Pad. I swear Luke has a thing for prime-time programming.

8:45 - I put Luke back to bed, and I have a good feeling about it this time. Clara, meanwhile, has been jumping in her crib for about 45 minutes now.

9:00 - In our bedroom watching TV and blogging.

9:30 - Ice cream time! Did I mention I can have dairy again? Let's just say I've been making up for lost time ;)

When I knew

Today I took part in a study on infertility. During the phone interview, I recounted my entire experience, from start to finish, and you know what was the only part that made me tear up? When the researcher asked if I ever thought I might be infertile when I was younger and I told her about the first time I knew.

I was a freshman in college, sitting in my dorm room, watching an episode of Party of Five. I remember it was at the very end of the hour, when Kirsten tells Charlie she can't have kids. I remember crying. To this day, although I hadn't watched the scene in years, I could still picture it - it was nighttime, the music was playing, Kirsten was lying down, teary eyed, depressed. I can remember the fear, the heartache I felt for a moment. I remember thinking that being in that character's shoes was the worst thing ever.

I don't think I had ever before contemplated the possibility of not being able to have children until that moment, watching that episode. And then once it became a possibility to me, something that was out there, I just knew. I knew that it was my new worst fear, and I knew it would happen to me. I cried and cried, and my roommate probably thought I was nuts (she was my friend from home, though, so she already knew I was nuts).

That scene has always stuck with me, and recalling it would make me well up with tears. So today, after getting choked up recounting the episode (and being totally fine talking about the five years of infertility we dealt with, oddly enough), I decided to google it. I had tried before with no luck, but this time I found it. Skip ahead to 5:48 to watch the exact part I'm talking about:



She was sad. I don't know what it is about that word, but I just feel like it really sums it up. Yes, I was jealous, bitter, angry, depressed... I could go on and on and on. But something about being sad just captures it all. Sadness was really my predominate emotion during those five years. It's so simple, yet so complex.

I don't remember the first time I got worried that I wasn't yet pregnant, or the first time a doctor mentioned infertility. But I have always remembered this episode. I think it's because for me, this was the first time I knew.

So nine years before I would discover I was infertile, before I knew what it was really like to be in that character's shoes, and fourteen years before I would have a nearly six-year-long struggle behind me, somehow those two minutes struck a chord in me. And for some reason, they still do.

Interesting conversation

My neighbor (who we talk to only a few times a year, yelling across the street from our respective yards): Those aren't babies anymore!

Me (holding Luke, with Clara nearby): Ya... they're getting big!

Neighbor: We're expecting another one!

Me: Oh, congratulations!

Neighbor: And I just got fixed...

Me: (Stunned for a moment) I hope that happened after the pregnancy! Ha ha ha.

Neighbor: We thought we had done it in time, but apparently we didn't!

Me: (Nervous laugh) Huh... Well, congratulations!


This couple has three (I think?) kids already so this will be the fourth. Talk about close calls! That kid got in just in the knick of time.

And, yes, my response was pretty lame, but it wasn't exactly what I expected him to tell - or, rather, yell - to me in the middle of our neighborhood.

I've been thinking about it a lot, and of course I'm against getting "fixed" as a practicing Catholic, someone who is open to life, and as a former-infertile. But I've been trying to look at it from their perspective. I would have to guess they don't have a lot of money; our neighborhood isn't exactly wealthy. And I am willing to bet that their family of five is seen as rather large in their world. Their house is exactly like ours (if not a tiny bit bigger), so their kids have to already share rooms and a fourth will crowd it even more.

The idea of accepting as many children as God would give them is probably a foreign concept to them, I'm guessing. I know it is to the world at large. Lately, we have told quite a few people that that's our stance, and it's always met with curiosity, amazement or shock.

Case in point... We were at a wedding a couple months ago, sitting at a table full of my husband's co-workers, when talk turned to our family size.

Co-worker: Karey, now that you've had Luke, how many more do you want to have?

Me: As many as God gives us.

Co-worker: Haha.. no, really.

Me: No, really. As many as God give us. That could be ten, or that could be two.

Co-worker: I thought Ryan was kidding when he told us that!

(Aw, my husband talks about being open to God's will for our family, even when I'm not around. I love him!)

I actually didn't mind at all that that co-worker asked me about it. He seemed genuinely interested. And I also don't mind when people are surprised, as everyone at the table was. I know we live in a world where accepting as many children as God gives you is shocking. Now, I probably wouldn't enjoy being met with disgust, but that hasn't happened yet.

Although, I have had the "better you than me" remarks from strangers in the mall who see my double stroller with two little babies. They have even glared, in a way that would imply they are seeing my lovable little angels in a negative light.

But that's okay.

I take it all in stride. I'm just glad I have my babies for people to make those remarks about. I'm glad we have our fertility in tact (at least what there may be of it). I'm glad we have been taught about being open to life. And I'm glad we are open to life.

In the world we live in, it's so easy to not see the beauty in that.

It's all a blessing.