Candid Chatter

Just Say It

Need Breastfeeding Support? April 22, 2009

Go here: Custom-Made Milk

And don’t delay!
I would not have made it this far breastfeeding my little Jaxon if not for her help and the help of those like her.
Run. Don’t walk. Go now!

breastfeedingbaby

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The Last One as Four January 9, 2009

Well, this is it. Every time we are about to have a baby I go through these “last” thoughts. This is our last weekend as a family of four. In fact, this is our last Friday as a family of four. Next Friday I will be discharged (God willing) and we will be on our way as a family of five.

Enjoy your weekend. We plan to do a whole bunch of nothing, truly. I need to rest as much as I can.

You’ll get one last post from me on Monday and then I may not be back on for a few days. Melanie will post on Tuesday when she can to give you all the glorious details about the baby so check in for that fun day of awesomeness.

I will try for internet access from my laptop at the hospital. If I can manage to make it happen, I will post pictures.

Thanks for visiting Candid Chatter. Thank you for the thoughts and prayers. Thank you for being my internet buddies. Thank you for everything.

See you soon!

 

My Precious Little Life January 8, 2009

Filed under: Life... The Way I See It — candidchatter @ 6:12 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

I
Can’t
Wait
To
Meet
You

sepia-hands

327955-9-newborn

newborn

best_newborn_baby_photographer_milwaukee

Will you look like him?
Will you look like me?
Will you look like them?
Blue eyes? Brown? Green?
Blond hair? Brown? Red?
Chubby cheeks?

Mommy loves you.
Daddy loves you.
Brianna & Jeremy love you too.
You have a huge family.
Just wait till they all see you.
Soon, my lovely one. Soon.

*all photos courtesy of
Google Images*

 

You’ve Got Male December 30, 2008

So according to me I am 38+ weeks pregnant. According to my flawed doctors and their reliance on ultrasound at 7 weeks gestation (yes, that’s sarcasm) I am 37+ weeks gestation. Doesn’t really matter though — both get me to full-term (a full-term singleton pregnancy is one that reaches 37 weeks — that’s when baby lungs are fully developed).

Ok. So what. Right?

Well I am here to tell you that I have made it this far — inches from giving birth — and the gender “secret” has been utterly ruined. People just aren’t used to keeping gender a secret in our current times. Now, I thought my Mother-in-law had spoiled it awhile ago when we thought there may be a cyst on the baby’s brain. She was (besides my medical crew) the only one who knew the gender b/c she went with me to the ultrasound and I told the sonographer that it was ok to tell her. But I was certain she’d keep her lips shut. So certain that I allowed her to come. Well when I got the news she did the whole “he, him, his” thing as she was trying to console me. Unbelievable.

Then came the series of ultrasounds (nine) and echocardiograms (three) on the little wee one. I still didn’t know the gender. I refused to look at the screen during examination near the nether regions.

The perinatologist, an unemotional guy I’m sure due to the nature of his job, slipped once and called the baby “he”. He didn’t react, but ever so slickly went back to calling the baby “the baby”. Hmm.

Out of about 100 people, I kid you not, all but 3 have said “it’s a boy” and a few were complete strangers (remember Home Depot guy?).

Well I had a regular OB check and non-stress test Monday. The midwife decided to examine me in the NST (non-stress test) room. During a NST my baby and my uterus are monitored. I can hear the baby’s heartbeat the whole time. It’s my job to click this button thingy whenever I feel it move. The goal is for the baby’s heart rate to go up during movement. If it goes down, there is trouble. All three of my full-term babies have repeatedly passed this test. Thank God!

Ok so the midwife is coming into the room saying all loud and proud “that little boy is so active, I can hear his heartbeat all the way down the hallway, he’s a happy little guy in there”. For crying in your Cheerios!!! Are you serious? I have gone an entire pregnancy without knowing for sure if it’s a boy or not until exactly 2 weeks from my c-section. Aaaaahhhhhh [me screaming]!!!!! You have GOT to be kidding me!! Someone who shall remain nameless (Dorothy the midwife) apparantly did not read the part of my chart which said “gender unknown to Mom by choice”.

So the slips were slips and could very well have meant nothing because a lot of people say “he”. However, “little boy, little guy” is waaaay more than a slip.

I know it’s rare to not know gender these days. I am well aware of that. But it was so cool hearing Rich call out Jeremy’s gender in the operating room. I just wanted that experience one more time. This is it for us. Once our newest baby boy is born I will have no more pregnancies. Tubes tied. Snipped. Burned. Kaput!

Am I mad? No. I had a feeling it’s a boy too. Lots of similarities with the end of my pregnancy with little Jay-Jay. But I didn’t know for sure.

Am I disappointed? Greatly. I feel like my moment of hearing that excitement in Rich’s voice as he gets to tell me we just had a little baby boy has been robbed.

I won’t dwell. I won’t. What can we do? Nothing.

But [sigh] I just think that sucks a little. Ya know?

newborn-boy
Google Images
“newborn boy”

 

Many Years Later December 5, 2008

Filed under: Life... The Way I See It — candidchatter @ 1:48 pm
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A certain person I know has, for years, said negative and demeaning things about people who have large families. Things like “they’re crazy”, “they must be nuts”, “how can they give their kids enough attention”, “it’s ridiculous (or irresponsible) to have that many kids”. And so on.

Believe it or not, I have kept my mouth shut — taking it with a grain of salt each time.
That is, until today.

I have had it up to my hairline and beyond with these kinds of remarks. It doesn’t help that this person and I had a heated discussion yesterday regarding the dumbest advice I think I’ve ever been given by a person who has no right even breathing a word on the subject considering this person’s lack of responsible behavior in a certain area. That is vague on purpose.

My parents raised 7 children. My paternal grandparents raised 13 while my maternal grandparents raised 8. To say I come from a big family is the understatement of the year. I believe I have somewhere around 75 first cousins with both families combined. I have no idea how many of those cousins have produced children of their own. I’m sure the numbers now are well over 100 with first and second cousins combined. And we’re still having children. Some of my first cousins are still under the age of 10. I think a couple may even be under age 5. Huge family! Absolutely humongous!

In my family segment, my precious parents (who have been married for over 36 years) have their ninth grandchild on the way (our wee one). One of my sisters is trying to get pregnant with her 2nd. One of my sisters has three girls. My brother has 2 girls. My youngest sister just got married last weekend. Two of my siblings are in serious relationships, but not married yet. That leaves a whole bunch of room for more nieces and nephews for me and many more grandchildren for my parents of awesomeness. I think Christmas, one day, will be unbelievably expensive for all of us. Yikes!!

So for anyone to condemn large families to me is like calling my entire family a bunch of idiots.

Not a good idea.
It’s an even worse idea while I’m all chock full of hormones and 8 months pregnant.
Yeah. Dumb move.

So I did what any upstanding young woman with her third child on the way would do. I shot the person dead and now I’m going to jail.

Nah. In my mind I wanted to rip out hair and poke out eyeballs though.

First of all, both of my lovely heathens were fighting and yelling in the seat right behind me. The person on the phone heard the commotion and said “what would you do if you had 10 of them”. I said “I’d throw every last one out the window”. We chuckled. Then the person said “well what do you think about people who do have 10 kids then — they are nuts, aren’t they”? I stopped the chuckle right then. “You know what” I said. “You’ve been saying derogatory things about people who have a lot of kids for many years now and I’ve put up with it. I’ve been patient. I’ve been kind. But you must understand that when you say things like that you are putting down my entire family and that hurts my feelings. I don’t like it even a little bit and it doesn’t amuse me.” The person sounded taken aback and said “what well I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, I just mean that I couldn’t handle it”. I received and accepted an apology and then quickly got off the phone.

Right after that the girls at Subway started in on me having a girl and a boy already and what made me decide to have another child since I have one of each. I must be crazy they say and all three laugh it up. I played along. Deep inside I was painfully aware of the way I am viewed by society. I have too many kids. I am crazy to want more. How do I do what I do? Why? How? Ha ha ha this is so funny and entertaining.

No.

It’s not funny. It’s not entertaining.
It’s disgusting.

I am proud of my family. I am proud of my parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings, and cousins who have decided to grow their families despite what anyone else thinks or says. I had a wonderful childhood. I would change nothing about it. I love my family deeply.

I’m sick of being the butt of jokes. I am sick of being the circus who just arrived because it’s oh such a novelty to ask Heidi to tell the whole room full of people how many cousins/aunts/uncles or whatnot she has. I can hear the circus music play as the laughter fills the room along with the wide-eyed expressions on the faces of unbelieving or astonished people.

My family is not a circus.
My family is not crazy.
My family is awesome.

If it were up to me, I’d have more children. Not the natural way, however. But if Rich would open his heart to it I’d certainly adopt — at least one, maybe more.

I love kids.
I grew up surrounded by love.
My family may not have lots of money, but they sure do have lots of love.
An overabundance of it, in fact.

And. It. Makes. Me. Proud.

 

Summer Gets It November 17, 2008

Filed under: Life... The Way I See It — candidchatter @ 5:46 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

I took the kids to the playground today. We have a favorite one in a really cool neighborhood that we frequent. I waddled over to the swings and began my exercises of the day pushing both kids on two different swings. Don’t think that’s exercise? Try it. Now try it with a bowling ball strapped to your stomach. I dare ya!

Anyway. There was a darling young woman pushing her daughter next to us. She asked me the typical “when are you due” question. I told her “in 8 more weeks… January”. Not one ounce of shock or judgment on her pretty face. I instantly liked her. She replied “awww, I just love pregnant women — I loved being pregnant — well, that is, until the end”. I was all shocked and dramatic making faces and laughing because pregnancy is not something I enjoy except for the fetal movement. I said “well this is the end pretty much — third trimester and all”. She grinned. Lovely gal. Just lovely.

{Pause for a note to my friend LB: she reminded me of you — she had your personality to a “T”}

The kids did their normal round-the-playground routine. I followed as closely as my short little legs could manage. Rock wall, rings, slide, bridge, stairs, “watch this mom”, “see what I can do mom”, hang from bars, try to climb palm tree, throw mulch, find shells, back to the swings, etc. Fun for them and exhausting for me. Huff Puff Huff Puff.

Mrs. Personality came back over to the swings when we were there for our 2nd go. She talked about wanting a 3rd child too and how ready she is to start trying. I guess her husband is resisting. I told her mine did too (someday I’ll tell the whole story — still not ready yet). She said she wasn’t sure how hard to fight for it. I told her “some things are worth fighting for”. She smiled sweetly.

Jeremy called from across the playground wanting my help. She offered to go get him off the ladder and I scooted over to push her little girl on the swing. Brianna was going pretty high so she didn’t protest. We thanked one another and kept chit-chatting. Turns out we had a few things in common regarding our opinions of our city and a snooty neighborhood we both used to live in. We had a couple laughs.

After a bit she decided to go home to get lunch for her two girls. She was there with a friend who was also pregnant and looking very tired of chasing her little one. I understood. So we said goodbye and “nice chatting with you” and she wished me luck with the yet unborn wee one. I thanked her and she left.

Have you ever met someone completely out of nowhere and wanted to be friends?

Two things that left a happy feeling in my heart.
1. She mentioned she goes to church and works in the nursery — this makes me happy because it could very well mean she’s a born-again Christian which means even if I don’t see her again in this life, I’ll surely look her up in the next.
2. She put the word community into action — this is what we are missing in our society. She’s the link.

Her name is Summer. And Summer, by golly, you get it. You are the “it” chick. Not because you’re pretty. Not because you live in a nice neighborhood. Not because you have a cool hairstyle and cool sunglasses. No. It’s because you are friendly — genuinely friendly — and you love to laugh and you ooze joy. I can imagine when your husband kisses you good night he pinches himself he’s so lucky. I’ll bet he knows the blessing you are in his life. I hope your daughters grow up to be just like you.

And I would love to be your friend. Just not sure we’ll ever meet again. But if we do…
Well, I’ll see what God has in mind.

You’re the real deal, Summer. So many people could take a lesson from you. Too many.

And — I cannot believe you liked being pregnant. I happen to believe you have forgotten a lot.

 

Hypo vs. Hyper November 13, 2008

Gestational Diabetes is nothing to mess around with. I’m sure any form of Diabetes is dangerous when the Diabetic ignores his or her diagnosis and diet. Right now, as I type this, I have gone hypoglycemic. It is a terrible feeling. Since I have started diabetic meds it is important that I eat regularly, including snacks, throughout the day.

I got home from picking up Brianna and within minutes I was shaking and dizzy. Uh oh. I took out the glucose meter to check my blood glucose levels. Before I left to go get her it was 99. That’s a check 2 hours after breakfast and it’s a good number. Just an hour later it was all the way down to 68. Not good. Hypoglycemia starts at 70 for a diabetic. I knew something wasn’t right.

Immediately I popped open the jar of mixed nuts and started munching. Then I got the strawberry yogurt out of the fridge and slurped it down as fast as I could. I’ll recheck my sugar levels in 5 minutes. If they’re still too low I’ll eat an apple or maybe a peanut butter cookie. I don’t want to spike it, but I also need to get a bit above 70.

It happens fast. If hypoglycemia is left unchecked a diabetic person can lose consciousness. That’s not in the mix for me. Who would help? It is important that I am aware of the signs at all times.

Hyperglycemia is a bit more dangerous as I understand it. This is what fits me in the category of Gestational Diabetic. When I don’t eat right and take meds my blood sugars are elevated. Two hours after each meal my magic number needs to be below 120. If I have 2 slices of pepperoni pizza, for example, my number is usually around 175 as a diabetic. That’s a major no-no. Pasta, potato, rice, anything high in carbs or white flour or sugar will all make my numbers escalate.

The problem with this, besides the dangers to my health, is that it could affect the unborn baby in one way or another. The most obvious is high birth weight. The other problems that are much more serious are low blood sugar in newborn infant, trouble breathing, and still birth.

So it’s a bit complicated and takes some getting used to. I don’t like checking my blood levels 4+ times a day. It hurts and it’s inconvenient. I’d rather eat a baked potato with my steak rather than a side of broccoli. I want the occasional sweet treat.

It’s not just my good health that is a concern. When the health of another person depends on you and what you eat and how you monitor “things” then a new determination surfaces and you gain a self-control you may not have realized you have.

Strangely, I’m sort of thankful I’ve had this disease 3 times now. I have learned so much about how the body uses food for fuel that the transition from being a pregnant diabetic to a non-pregnant woman who needs to lose 50+ pounds is smooth. This is why I love the South Beach diet. Its menu is centered around the glycemic index — a very important tool for a diabetic.

My number after all of that drama is 91. The nuts and yogurt worked like a charm and I feel back to normal now. Off to eat lunch — a healthy one of course.