February 9, 2012

This has been a hell of a half year.  Doesn't everyone in the world say you just gotta make it to six months?  Or something stupid like that?  I am going to do my best not to sound selfish and ungrateful, but it's been damn hard.  Emmett is soft and smooshy and cute and cuddly.  But he is cranky, difficult, fussy, and unhappy.  Doesn't eat, definitely doesn't sleep.  Screams a lot.  And now in the last month he's gone on a total milk strike.  Particularly the last 3 days.  Hasn't had more than maybe 3 ounces.  Won't breastfeed, sure won't take a bottle.  Nothing about him is consistent or predictable.  Anyway, I'm a wimp and a whiner.  But that's my excuse for being lousy about monthly updates.  I promised myself I would do one for 6 months.  Half a year.  It's kind of big deal.

At his check up, Emmett weighed in at 17 pounds 10 ounces.  I was sure he would be at least 18 pounds.  He had dropped a solid 15% in weight, so I'm chalking that up to the milk strike.  But that's still significantly more than either of his older brothers.  Em is also what the doctor called "neurologically delayed."  Sounds scary, right?  Or maybe only to a crazy anxious mom, I don't know, but all it means is that he's developing his neurological pathways a bit slower than average.  He just barely learned to roll over last week.  He doesn't push himself up when on his tummy, and he isn't really even close to sitting on his own.  But the doctor promised me there were no implications whatsoever, other than Emmett hits his milestones a bit later than most babies.  As for his social, mental, and emotional "skills," Emmett is right on track and doing fine. 

So, six months in, here are a few other highlights, favorites, and things we want to remember about our tricky Emmett M.

• I flippin love the little crease under his nose.  It's probably not something anyone else would notice, but I do.  And I love it.
• I also love his 17 dimples.  Seriously, at least that many on his fat face when he smiles.
• He has a cute little voice quiver that he does when he's talking or playing. 
• He is so so responsive to his big brothers.  Nothing warms this mama's heart more than to see them interacting with each other.
• Another thing Em does that I find simply irresistable is when I'm holding him on my hip or lap or whatever (which I am a lot) and he turns to look up at me.  It's like he's just checking in. 
• He still does this kind of weird, involutary hand pump.  It's almost like a repetitive twitch.  He does it particularly when he's eating or falling asleep.
• He is always swinging his arms up and down, and bicycling his legs.  On the floor, in the bath, in the bouncer, while being held.  Always. 
• Compared to his crazy brothers at this age, Emmett is pretty quiet and mild.

Although it's been a tough go, we sure wouldn't send this little Emmerooney back.  He has taught us new things, and that we still have a lot left to learn.  He is so sweet and so special, and so so sooooo so cute.  And we love him a lot! 

I saw a largely pregnant lady tonight.  I've almost forgotten what that was like.  In only two weeks. 

Little Emmett M. has changed so much.  I swear he changes a bit every day.  We have decided that above the nose, he looks like Owen.  Below the nose he looks like Sam.  And that solid nose is all his own.   

Seriously, check out that schnozzer.

Emmett has really started to "wake up."  He is still a very sleepy baby, although there is also still no consistency or predictability to it.  But his awake time is much more alert and aware.  His eyes are so bright and he's really starting to take things in.

Tummy time!

Emmett makes all sorts of cute faces.  He raises his eyebrows, crinkles his forehead, and even gives us funny little smiles.  (The gas kind, right?  Because when I kiss his little neck and tell him I love him, he can't possibly be smiling for real.)  Though not nearly as much as the first few days he was born, he still makes cute little popping sounds with his mouth.

Emmett really isn't a crier.  He starts to fuss when he's hungry, or when he wakes up and we wait too long to get him.  But really, he is our mildest baby so far.  The most I've heard him cry was on the way home from picking up Grandma B at the airport the last 15 minutes, and today at his check up when he got his tongue tie clipped.  (But it was being held still and the doctor's hand in his mouth that made him mad, because as soon as he was done and back up, he was totally over it.)

Emmett does this awesome poop dance.  He starts squirming and making noises while his tummy churns, then his whole body kinda jumps, his arms and legs stretch out right on cue with the big rumble in his diaper.  I don't know why I think it's so funny, but it's made me laugh out loud at 3 am.   

Of course I am forever scarred by my first two underweight children and my crazy psychological issues, so feeding/eating is a constant anxiety.  I cry to Erik almost every day about having to poke and prod Em to practically force him to eat, and why won't my babies just get big and fat, and why can't this part ever be easy, and blah blah blah.  Well, at least my crazies were put to rest (for now) at Emmett's appointment today.  He weighed in at 8 lbs 13 oz and measured 21 inches.  Everything looked great and checked out fantastically! 

Emmett is really really cute.  We like him a lot.  Two weeks down.  We can do this.

Last week was supposed to be my regular OB appointment.  They called 20 minutes before, as I was literally walking out the door with both boys, to cancel.  And the girl was pretty rude about it all.  I have not been happy with Valley OBGYN this time around.  I was majorly bugged.  So I took the boys to IHOP. 

My appointment was rescheduled to this past Thursday.  Lovely 6 pound weight gain.  Wahoo.  I have had some concerns about Lambert being pretty quiet and not so active.  So I mentioned it to the Dr.  That and my super regular Braxton Hicks contractions.  Add that to Dr. having a hard time getting a good heart beat, and they sent me down for an unofficial Non-Stress Test.  (“Un” official since technically it’s too early to do one.  Or something.)  So they hooked me up to a couple fetal monitors.  It’s a pretty cool sound, but it was also very different from the only 2 other times I’ve been hooked up: when I was in labor and Baby was 15 weeks bigger.  I listened to the wump wump and every couple seconds it would sound like someone tapping a microphone.  The technician laughed, “He has the hiccups.”  Sure enough, I pushed on my tummy and with each microphone thump, I felt a jolt.  She also did an ultrasound to check the amniotic fluid levels.  Also perfect.   So everything checked out great.  Greater than great, really.  His heart was perfectly strong and right on track.  The technician showed me the charts and monitorings and explained you could also see Lambert oxygenating which isn’t something you can usually see at 25 weeks.

At this point in the pregnancy, I’m feeling pretty aok!  I actually think with Owen at this same time, I was much more uncomfortable.  My reflux is definitely the worst thing that bothers me, but I got permission to take whatever otc med worked for it.  I get nasty sciatic twinges, too, that sometimes come out of nowhere and so strong that I almost fall over.  But usually I can anticipate it and deal with it.  And I’m almost totally used to Erik making fun of me for whining about “Oy, my sciatic.” 

I am totally in love with Samuel’s interest in baby Lambert.  On the way home from school the other day, Samuel asked if he was really a big brother, and if he would still be a big brother when Lambert came.  So I explained that Sam would always be a big brother, and he would soon have two little brothers.  But Owen would be a little brother and a big brother.  It was cute.  Sam also still thinks it’s funny that the baby is upside down.  I explained that to him after the first official ultrasound, and when he sees my weekly emails with a picture, he always comments on that.  He also pointed and asked what “the big white twisty tube” was.  So I got to explain about his belly button and the umbilical cord.

My favorite so far, though, would have to be the other week when Sam wanted me to lift up my shirt.  It was a bit weird, but I figured, Hey, if he’s that interested . . . Then he took a huge breath, puffed up his cheeks, and came in for a  giant raspberry!  So I pushed him away and laughed, “No way!!”  But Samuel didn’t give up.  He kept trying and insisted, “It will be so funny!  Lambert will like it and he will laugh and laugh.”

Halfway there.  Kind of crazy.  I am still deciding if it went fast or not.  20 more weeks is still a while to go.  August is a long way away.  But right now I think that’s a good thing.  I’m still shaking in my boots thinking about three . . . three BOYS!  I’m also so unbelieveably excited to add another blonde hair blue eyed hooligan to the mix.  It’s going to be so fun.

So the first 20 weeks have been rough.  I haven’t hid that.  Although I’m not throwing up every day (my record is 9 days without!!  But usually its more like every 3 days or so, and that doesn’t count my regular morning vomit every time I brush my teeth) I’m still pretty nauseous on a regular basis.  Food is still mostly gross to me, and smells of any sort knock me over.  I haven’t gained any weight yet, in fact right now I’m less than when I first got pregnant.  I have no doubt that’s going to change fast.  My sciatic is already starting to bug me.  Forget indigestion, I went right to reflux.  Ugh.  And I’m already having braxton hicks contractions.  Isn’t there supposed to be a middle part where I get to enjoy this a bit?  But that sounds a lot more negative than I really feel.  I’m just getting old and fat, and my body sure ain’t what it used to be.  I’m finally feeling what I know is the baby, and I love it.  That seemed to take forever.  I still don’t feel him a lot, and part of that as we discovered in the ultrasound is because my placenta is on top of/in front of the baby.  I’m sure he’ll get moving soon, though. 

Samuel is excited about the baby.  He likes to talk about it and ask questions.  I love that!  It’s so fun to see him so aware and really internalize it.  Sam reminds me almost daily that I’m getting fatter.  Every time I eat he asks if I’m feeding the baby, too.  He also told us tonight at dinner that the baby can see my heart and into my lungs and he sees all the food I swallow.  Before the ultrasound, Samuel was confident he was getting another brother.  I asked what would happen if he got a sister.  He said, “It’s a brother, I know it!”  When I came home from the ultrasound, Samuel was giddy to see the pictures.  He laughed and giggled the whole time I pointed things out to him.  Then we named the baby Lambert. 

So, as far as the ultrasound went, everything looked perfect.  I was so so so anxious about it.  I don’t remember anticipating the ultrasounds nearly as much with either of the other boys.  (Of course I was still excited with them, I just don’t remember it being as intense.)  Baby was being pretty shy and had his legs crossed most of the time.  Thankfully, while she took measurements and such, the technician kept checking back to see if he had exposed himself yet.  After I was really starting to wonder if we would get a peak, we finally got it.  Oh!  We’ve seen that before!!  Lambert also kept his face hidden most of the time.  We would see bits, but never the whole thing.  We poked and prodded and jiggled, but he kept his face nuzzled up to my placenta or tucked into my pelvis.  But he seemed pretty ok in there with his ankles crossed and both arms up, hands tucked behind his head.  Lambert must be getting nice and comfortable for the next 20 weeks.

Oish, what a long 14 weeks.  Which really has only been 10 based on the weird way they count it.  Still.  Looooooong.  But I’m alive.

So here is the basic run down for the sake of journaling and anyone who might care . . . This is by far the sickest pregnancy I’ve had.  I was pretty sick with Sam and it lasted to 20 weeks, but the first day after school let out for the summer, (this is when I was at Suncrest) I felt so much better.  So I blame a lot of that sick on working full time.  With O, I don’t remember the details (I HATE how much I forget!), but even though I was sick, I do remember it feeling so different from Sam’s pregnancy.  I know I still barfed enough for Sam to learn to stick his head in the toilet and make gagging sounds.  But I was feeling way better at about 14 weeks.  BUT with both of them I also remember already feeling signs of pregnancy when I took this test.  Not this time.  I didn’t feel a thing when I took the test, and still didn’t for two weeks after getting the positive.  I was in such denial about it, I didn’t even tell Erik for almost a week.  But on little Christmas Eve, I got the preggo smack down.  And it got bad fast.  At the beginning of January I finally called my OB to schedule an appointment.  I swear I spent most of January on the sofa or in the bathroom.  It was rough.  My saving grace was that mornings were my best time, and the sick progressed through the day.  I could usually have one barf in the morning, then just one or two during the day.  But by 4, I was done.  That’s usually when I’d take the boys upstairs to play and watch a movie so I could lie in bed until Erik came home.  Evenings were pretty much awful, with at least 3 or 4 more pukes.  By 8 I was taking a unisom and finishing up my gingerale before crawling into bed.  I know I sound pretty dramatic (imagine!) but really, it was a hard hard month for me.  Throw in the fact that Doc highly recommended I go off my meds (which I had already stopped taking when I first found out I was pregnant), and I was not dealing well with any of it.  I am so grateful for my forgiving little boys and so so patient husband.  They’re pretty much amazing. 

Now, at 14 weeks, I am definitely on the turn around.  I haven’t had a worst day in over a week.  I haven’t barfed in a few days.  Amazing.  I just might make it to August afterall.  Today was my second appointment, and again, Doc had a hard time getting the heartbeat on the doppler.  Since we couldn’t last time either, he sent me to the ultrasound technician (instead of just using the old school machine in the room like previously).  We saw that little heart beating nice and strong right away.  Owen saw it, too.   We took a few measurements, and everything checked out perfectly.  The doctor said, “Well that’s just a stubborn baby, does he get that from his parents?”  Ha!  The tech also took a peek between the legs, but couldn’t tell anything yet.  We still got to print out a few pictures, and it was cute to see how excited Samuel was to check them when I showed him after school.  And Owen talked the whole way home about “Baby! Baby!”  Next appointment in 4 more weeks.

Doctor couldn’t find the heartbeat right away, so he plugged in the old school ultrasound machine.  As he gelled up my tummy he assured me the past 5 weeks of constant nauseau and 6 pukes a day were a really good sign.  Sure enough, there was our tiny little kumquat bopping around.  The heart beat was still tricky to see, but we did catch a quick flicker and Doc said, “It looks good, we have confirmed Life.” 

Guess that makes it pretty official.

Owen had his 6 month check up earlier this week.  At 15 lbs 10 oz and 26 1/2 inches, he is short and chunky compared to what Samuel was.  It puts him in 12th percentile for weight, and 25th for height.  (Yeah, do you love that 12% is chunky for us!  By now, Sam was dropping below the charts.)  I have zero concerns about our Little Owen J, and neither did the doctor.  One day I’ll probably have a girl who will be huge and can beat up her big brothers.

So O had to get 4 “pokes” when we were there.  Sam wasn’t even happy about taking Owen to the doctor in the first place, “No, we’re not taking Owen to the doctor!” over and over.  Samuel was surprisingly protective the whole time, and at the very end when it was time for shots, he started crying, “No, Mommy, no pokes for Owen.”  When the nurse came in and Sam saw the needles, he got really worried.  He covered his ears and kept crying while I turned around to hold Owen.  When we were done, I picked up Owen and turned back around to see Samuel still crying and covering his ears, and curled up underneath a chair in the corner.  I think the poor child will be scarred forever after his way too many Rocefin encounters.

Anyway, besides Sam’s freak out, everything was great.  Here are my usual comparisons . . . 2 months, 4 months, 6 months.

Yesterday Owen turned 2 months old.  It feels like he’s been with us forever.  Those first few days in the hospital were a lifetime ago.  Right now I’m snuggling Owen as he naps.  Because I can.  And because as much as I look forward to everything that comes next, I don’t want to miss out on right now.

At O’s check-up he weighed 10 lbs 15.5 oz.  I can’t remember length or head, and the papers with that info were quickly scribbled on and destroyed by an almost 3 year old, who was surprisingly chipper at the doctor’s office when he realized none of it was for him.  In fact, Sam was kind enough to explain everything to Owen, happily greet the Doctor and introduce him to “My’s Baby Owen,” cover his ears when Owen got his shots, cheer for his baby brother “Good job baby Owen.  Be brave.  Great!” when we were all done, and then tell the nurse, “Ok, let’s get some stickers.”

At 2 months, Owen is such a chill baby.  He has super alert time where he just loves to take everything in.  He tracks things with his eyes and turns toward sounds.  He coos, babbles, blows bubbles, and has giggled twice for us.  Some days he sleeps a ton, and others he doesn’t sleep a wink.  Some nights he sleeps up to 6 1/2 hours, others we are up 4 times between 12 and 7.  He eats regularly, and won’t go more than 3 hours during the day without a feeding.  He loves snuggling on our shoulders, watching his big brother, being outside, sucking his fingers, and wiggling wiggling wiggling.  And we can’t imagine our life without this wonderful, beautiful baby boy.

{1. Owen meets Cooper, up close and personal  2. Still figuring out the best way to suck his thumb 3. Snuggling up for a nap 4. Looking up at BIG brother 5. Wiggling right out of his jammies}

I was 3 cm 80% effaced.  Baby is still sitting super high, which makes me super duper uncomfortable.  Lots of “contractions” but not the ones that are going to do anything.  Blah.  Had a good freak out moment last night, so I took off to Target for almost 2 hours to unwind.  Felt lots better with a renewed sense of optimism by the time I got home.  I love Target.

Today . . . who knows?

Buuut . . . I am 2 cm dilated and 75% effaced.  Who knows, those stats don’t necessarily mean anything.  Doc did tell me when contractions start getting regular to pretty much come right in, since I had a quick 6 hour labor with Samuel (and it was only that long because he wanted to come out waving, so I pushed for 2 1/2 hours).

Still at least 1,872 things left to do and get ready before baby comes.  But I’m thinking 2 weeks tops.  Ack!!