When you are the outlier . . .

I will never forget my first meeting with my RE, when she very compassionately said, "Statistically speaking, most people will get past RPL and have a successful pregnancy." And I cried. I cried because I didn't think I would. I cried because "most" people is definitely not "all" people. Some people don't get past it, and if you are one of the unlucky ones, then statistically speaking, the odds mean fucking nothing.

I don't write about myself today. We know that I was so very fortunate enough to be on the good side of the numbers.

I write today about a very dear friend who has fallen on the other side of the odds. 13 attempted IUI cycles - resulting in 1 cancelled cycle due to no response, 10 negatives, and 2 miscarriages. One round of IVF (with a potential FET) was their last hope. And with no embryos making it to freeze, and a negative blood test from the IVF cycle yesterday, their journey is over.

What do you even say that can give comfort? There are no words that will even begin to fill the emptiness. My heart physically aches for them. The painful journey, the expensive journey, the LONG journey. No one should get to the end of a struggle with infertility and pregnancy loss with nothing to show for it. NO ONE.

So I cry again today over the very first words my RE spoke to me. Knowing that "most" people get through these journeys with a better outcome only makes the end result that much more painful for those who don't.

Improving? Maybe. (TED - Day 3)

I think we have seen some improvement in the last 24 hours. There was no screaming from gas pain overnight. There was still some writhing and grunting - but no screaming. Which means I actually got some sleep between feedings! (He even went 4.5 hours before he needed his first fill up of the night!) But he is apparently a silent puker - because he had more spit up on him this morning than usual and I don't remember hearing him do any of that last night.

Is relieved gas pain but more spit up an improvement? That's debatable.

BUT every poop he has had starting with one last night (5 poops now) have all been mucus free!!! Yeah, gross. I know. But great news.

Also good news? No weight loss for me and no drop in milk supply. (Don't get me wrong, I need to lose about 40 pounds - but not from an extreme diet while breastfeeding.) I'm still pretty miserable from an eating perspective, but SO happy to see a positive change for him so quickly. It makes it a lot easier to stick with it.

Crazy and unhealthy as it sounds, I think plain white sugar will be my first addition back into my diet. No, I'm not planning to eat it off a spoon (at least not yet). But I have a very serious sweet tooth and I can add that to just about everything I'm currently eating and change it all up. My cereal would be so much better with sugar. I can cook some apples and pears in sugar. I can make rice pudding with sugar. I can put it on a sweet potato - instead of brown sugar.

I'm not completely set on that yet. Part of me feels like I should do something more healthy. We'll see how I'm feeling when I get there. It will DEFINITELY not be a starch. I am sooooo over potatoes and rice. Blah. A nice hunk if red meat sounds wonderful. So does a cup of coffee. Or a glass of wine. Ahhhh, I miss food.

Detoxing (TED - Day 2)

Holy shit. Do you know what your body does when you abruptly cut out dairy, wheat, corn, sugar, artificial sugar, caffeine, alcohol, and just about everything else? It gets freakin angry. I have the detox headache from hell and of course the minute my 3 year old went down for his nap, the baby woke up.

Thinking about what to eat next makes me want to cry and thinking about doing this for the next 5 days really makes me feel defeated. I don't know how I will be able to do it.

Good news: I didn't drop any weight in my first 24 hours and my pumping output this morning was good.

Bad news: The baby's tummy is as bad as ever today. (It's too early to really hope to see improvement, but damn it would make this easier.)

TED - Day 1

Breakfast: puffed brown rice cereal with rice milk, fresh pear

Lunch: fresh apple, apple juice, chicken "burger"

Dinner: chicken and potatoes from the crockpot, rice, apple juice

Snacks: potato chips, sweet potato chips, rice cakes, apple juice

So it hasn't been *that* bad. I'm going to live off of potato chips and apple juice. I feel very hungry tonight, but I think it's more deprived than hungry. I've consumed enough calories, I just haven't found any of them remarkably satisfying.

I did make fabulous rice tonight with some extra calories. I sautéed the uncooked rice in a little olive oil - enough to coat the rice and almost toast it. Then I cooked it in half water and half chicken juice from the crock pot. OMG, it was heavenly! I plan to make it again tomorrow.

So I survived. A week is going to be really hard, and I'm going to need more apple juice and potato chips quickly.

Total Elimination Diet

Well. I was really hoping it wouldn't come to this. My tiny baby is perfect in every way except for his poor little tummy. He is so content, and so peaceful until about 15-30 minutes after many (most but not all) of his feedings. At which point he starts pumping his legs, writhing in pain, and screaming. Not crying, screaming. He farts and he seems better. Until the next wave of gas hits and this scenario repeats. It lasts for anywhere from 5 minutes to 45 minutes and breaks my heart to watch because I can not help him. Gripe water has not worked. Mylicon drops have not worked. Burping him does not work. He is also dealing with reflux and increased mucus production - both with his stools and with nasal congestion.

I tried cutting out dairy. I made it for about 10 days and saw no improvement. I tried cutting out acidic foods like citrus and tomatoes for about a week and saw no improvement there. Unfortunately, the less extreme method of identifying food sensitivity (I'll explain down below why I don't think it's a full blown allergy) is like finding a needle in a haystack. Eliminate one food. See what happens. Repeat. There are 2 problems with this approach. 1 - It really takes up to 3 weeks for some allergens to get completely out of the mother's system. Waiting 3 weeks per food is a lot of time for a guessing game. My baby could turn 1 before I eliminated the right food. 2 - If it is multiple foods, you are basically screwed with this approach. Not only did I not wait long enough when I eliminated dairy, but if he has sensitivity to dairy and soy then eliminating one doesn't help him and therefore doesn't help me identify the eliminated food as a problem.

So where does that leave us? With something called the total elimination diet. The details are here: http://www.askdrsears.com/topics/feeding-infants-toddlers/food-allergies/elimination-diet

Basically you cut your diet back to an extremely limited number of foods that are very rare offenders and start there. It's extreme, and I've heard it's miserable. But so is watching your baby fight with intestinal discomfort constantly. I'm modifying Dr. Sears recommended foods just a bit. I couldn't find free range turkey, so I'm doing chicken instead. If it is a corn or soy allergy, it's important that the meat I'm eating not be full of corn or soy. So I decided that organic free range chicken was better than non-organic turkey. I am also going to eat apples and maybe bananas. Some other TED diets allow both. Adding apples gives me some more variety and it's much easier to find apple sauce and juice than pear. I'm still undecided on the bananas. We'll see how horrible this diet is a couple days in.

So tomorrow I will start living on rice, potatoes, squash, chicken, apples, pears, and olive oil - all organic. Oh yeah, and salt and pepper. God help me. I should be a royal bitch in no time flat. Thankfully there are tons of rice derivatives. There is rice flour, so I can coat my chicken in it and fry it in the olive oil. There is rice pasta, rice cereal, rice milk. I've also got some rice cakes - GROSS, but I need readily available snacks. I also found some plain organic potato chips - just potatoes and salt. I have a whole chicken that I'll put in the crock pot with some potatoes for dinner tomorrow night. I plan on shredding some potatoes and frying them up for hash browns. I have ground chicken for "burgers." Damn, this is going to suck. I ENJOY food.

Supposedly this is a WONDERFUL weight loss diet, which is not a good thing for breastfeeding women. Losing too much weight too quickly is really bad for milk supply, so I've been reading that when doing a TED and breastfeeding that the key is to eat all the time. Don't be afraid to use your oils of choice liberally and don't skimp on the protein.

So yes, it's very extreme. But here's the good part. You do this for 1-2 weeks. (I'm committing to 1 week and then reevaluating the situation.) If the baby is better, you have eliminated his pain much faster than with the method above. And mom can start adding foods back in fairly quickly - a new food every 3 to 4 days. And it gives you a much clearer picture as to what upsets the baby, particularly if it's multiple offenders.

I'm already salivating at what food I want to add back first . . .

A note about food allergy vs sensitivity. I don't think we are dealing with an allergy here. Allergies usually have much more severe symptoms such as colic, vomiting, diarrhea, eczema, poor weight gain, etc. I think we are dealing with a sensitivity. Severe gas pain, reflux (but not vomiting), and increased mucus production are our main problems right now. He loves to eat, is gaining weight like crazy, and is happy/content virtually all the time once he passes his gas. So assuming I can find a new diet that eliminates these current problems, I shouldn't have to throw out my 120+ ounce freezer stash of breast milk. Since he only gets that milk in small quantities here and there, it's actually a good way to make sure he continues to have some limited exposures to offending foods to help his body process them - without overloading him with it at every feeding. If his symptoms worsen and we have a full blown allergy, I will be tossing a ton of breast milk and crying over it - a lot.

One final note. If his symptoms do not improve on this TED, then we can assume that his tummy problems are not related to my diet and that as his digestive system matures he will hopefully outgrow the problems. That is a very possible outcome of this whole experiment - I just have to do everything I can to make sure I'm not causing him this pain.

I'm currently enjoying my last glass of wine for a while. Cheers.

100 ounces

The 4 ounces I just pumped put my freezer stash at 100 ounces. That's not a tremendous amount for someone who exclusively pumps - it would be about 4 days worth of breastmilk. But here's the thing - I'm exclusively breastfeeding from the breast. My son had 2 two ounce bottles 2 weeks ago (that's a lot of 2s) to make sure he would take a bottle. And he had 2 two ounce bottles last week when I had to leave him with Dad for my new side job.

So why do I need 100 ounces in the freezer and why am I pumping? The short answer is that I'm crazy. The longer answer is that breastfeeding with my older son was a challenge from the beginning and we faced one hurdle after another. Just when everything started going well I got pregnant then miscarried and it destroyed my supply. We fought through low supply with formula supplementing but I did manage to at least give him some breastmilk every day until he was a year old.

This time it's so very different. The baby latched within seconds of being brought to me in the hospital and LOVES to nurse and is very efficient at it. Combine his efficient and enthusiastic nursing with me feeding him 100% on demand with no regard for the clock - and I have a great supply. (He's also gained 8 pounds in 8 weeks, which is INSANE.)

I don't anticipate getting pregnant again this time. But you never know what can happen. I could get sick for a duration of time. I could be out of the house more than I currently am. I just don't want to struggle with providing breastmilk like I did last time. I am not pumping every day. I'm just pumping when it's convenient, so it's not at all stressful.

I should add that I have absolutely nothing against formula. As I mentioned above, my older son was supplemented with it from 6 months to a year. It was a life saver for us as I literally did not have another way to feed him to meet his demands. My desire to provide as much breastmilk as possible is solely my personal preference. I may be in the minority, but I love breastfeeding. I want to have a strong breastfeeding relationship with my new son without the stress I had about it with my first son.

So what will I do with this freezer stash if I end up not needing it? Gah. I'm struggling with that right now. I'm not eligible to donate it because of the Zoloft. I guess the best thing to do if he doesn't need it while nursing is to continue to use it in cups once he has weaned. We'll cross that bridge *if* we get to it. I'm not convinced that we won't hit some hurdle along the way that will use it all up. In the meantime, you can me Bessie.

To IUD or to not IUD

Yeah, I know IUD is not a verb.

Sigh. The little guy is 2 months. 2 exhausting months. So exhausting my bones hurt. But the 2 happiest and most fulfilling months of my life. I can not explain it. It's as though a hole in my heart has been repaired.

During this pregnancy I was 100% sure we were done having kids. No doubt. Now, as crazy as it sounds, I'm not so sure. I am scared to death of more miscarriages and I am a really sick and miserable pregnant person. I'm also older. I won't say old. But I'm getting on up there for having babies. I'll be 35 in September. My husband is even older. He will be 44 in June.

I won't consider hormonal birth control. Emotionally I feel great and I have an amazing milk supply - I am not rocking either of those boats.

Permanent birth control isn't an option. Even if we knew we were done my husband won't consider it for himself. And I've been through one surgery in the last couple of months - I'm not game for any more cutting open of my abdomen this year.

That leaves us 2 options. An IUD or other use-as-needed barrier options.

We all know how the use as needed birth control works. It's effective, until the one time you don't use it. (And reminder, I did get pregnant when my first son was 5 months old.)

Which means the IUD is a more logical choice. Maybe. Here's the thing . . . Are we done having kids? Most likely. Am I sure? No. If we do decide to have another kid it will not be 2+ years from now when we start trying - we are just too old. (With our miscarriage history and our maternal/paternal ages, IVF with PGD could be the only way another child would ever happen again anyway. There are so many unknowns that make trying again seem stupid. But that's a decision for later.)

It's not really a financially sound decision to get an IUD if you aren't going to use it for longer term - like more than 18+ months. And for us, I feel like the only way we would ever have another child would be if we started trying before then.

I don't know. I'm so conflicted about this. I never thought I'd be almost 35 years old, happily married, and needing to stock up on condoms . . .

So, what now?

Wow. When I look back at where this blog started, it's kinda mind blowing. In the course of the last year and a half, I have blogged through a pregnancy and devastating miscarriage, RPL testing, and a pregnancy and birth of our second son. From the darkest days of my life to some of the most fulfilling days I could have ever imagined.

So what is left for me to say here? Reality is, not much. I'm sure I'll continue to post here and there for certain milestones and random updates. But there is also a pain that comes with this blog that I need to largely leave behind. It doesn't matter how great things may be going on any given day, I can still look at a post from late 2011 and be a sobbing disaster in a matter of seconds.

So this isn't good-bye. But it is sort of an emotional separation.

Stick around if you would like. But it will probably be a lot less interesting around here indefinitely. (Unless of course we change our minds and TTC #3 at some point . . . )

Happy Due Date Little Boy

Sigh. I'm tired. Really, really tired. So why am I blogging at 11pm? Because the little one is due to nurse in 15-30 minutes and catching a nap that short will just make me grumpy . . .

January 24, 2013. The day I spent the last 9 months anticipating. Of course I knew he likely wouldn't be born on 1/24, but making it to the end of pregnancy was the obsession I often wondered if I'd ever achieve again.

And while I didn't exactly make it to the end, I came close enough. I could not imagine January 24th being any more perfect than it was today. A cranky toddler. A gassy baby. And a tired mommy. Absolutely, completely, and totally perfect.

Happy due date baby boy. You have completed our lives in a way I could have never imagined. I am more in love with you and your brother (and your daddy too) than I even thought was possible. While the darkness of our journey to conceive you will likely never be completely gone, I surely feel like the luckiest mommy in the world today.

39 weeks (LOL)

Today I should be 39 weeks pregnant. And instead I'm blogging from my phone while my perfect 17 day old snoozes on my chest. That's a damn good trade if you ask me.

He's up to 7lb 2oz and really seems to be filling out. Of course 5lb 7oz at the time we left the hospital was SO tiny that 7lb seems big. Hard to believe that my first son weighed 9lb 10oz at birth?!?!?!!!

The last 2.5 weeks have been a whirlwind. Unexpected early arrival. Unexpected surgery. And here I am, with my tiny baby who is already changing before my very eyes.

I never thought I was a newborn person. I much prefer the age where they are older and can interact . . . Or so I thought. But there is something so magical about this time. Maybe it's knowing how hard it was to finally be holding this blessing. Maybe it's knowing that he is probably my last baby. Maybe it's the Zoloft. But I am truly loving every single solitary second of these days that are passing to quickly. I just want to freeze time, right now. I don't want to ever forget these moments.

But it's not all enjoyment. There is guilt with this joy. I did not have this newborn euphoria with my first son. Not even close. Was it because he was a much more difficult baby? Was it because I had no experience as a mother? Was it PPD/PPA? A combination of everything I suspect. I would give anything to have those first 10-20 days back with him. To enjoy every baby squeak, the tiny fingers and toes, even the sour milk smell. I hate that I don't remember him in his newborn perfection (even if that did involve a lot of crying). My heart hurts right now that this time with my second son feels so natural and I've never felt this before.

My first son, without a doubt, is a VERY loved and very attached 3 year old. I don't feel like his life will suffer because I struggled emotionally through his first few months. Heck, he probably didn't know the difference. He was held, nursed, pampered, and babied as much as any infant could be - it just was so unnatural and difficult for me. And of course, I feel like that is some reflection on me as a mother. And the guilt is rough.

But as much as I want that time back with him, it's gone. Just like our new baby's first 16 days are gone. Time moves so fast. I just hope I'm able to spend many more of the upcoming days cherishing these moments with both my boys, instead of dwelling on the moments I've missed. I've never been very good at living in the present. Perhaps that is just one of *many* life lessons "baby brother" has taught me. I am a very very blessed mother to 2 perfect boys. I can't change the mother I've been over the last 3 years, I can just be a better mom today.

Surprise?!?!?!?!!!!!!!

In an insanely crazy turn of events, and after a miserably uncomfortable Sunday, I went to bed Sunday night just hoping I'd feel better on Monday . . .

At 1230am I woke up to this uncontrollable sensation of wetting the bed. Within seconds I was pretty sure it was not pee - there was too much of it and I had no control of it. I woke up my husband, told him I was 99% sure my water broke, and called my midwife.

At this point, I had no doubt it was my water. My 36 week appointment to check for GBS was supposed to be Monday morning. Not knowing if I was positive or negative for that meant I needed to head into the hospital promptly for antibiotics. Possible exposure to GBS can make a newborn extremely sick. Particularly a pre-term newborn.

Having no contractions, and assuming I was going to be in labor for hours and hours, I called my mom who was our child care plan (and 2 hours away) and told her that she would probably need to think about getting on the road. I told my husband to go back to bed. I was taking myself to the hospital to start my antibiotics and what I assumed would be the SLOW labor process.

I get to the hospital, get hooked up to my IV, start the million questions they ask during admission, etc. And I finally get a bit settled with grand plans of getting a long hot shower once I finished my antibiotics...

And then the midwife intern comes in to introduce herself. Seriously, could someone be any nicer or sweeter? I liked her immediately. Until she took one press on my belly and asked, "We know he's head down?" Of course I told her that it was confirmed not once but twice with ultrasounds a couple weeks ago. She said, "Let me go get the midwife." I knew the concern - the intern thought he was breech again. Unfortunately, the midwife confirmed it with her own assessment and then an ultrasound for final confirmation. Frank breech.

Suddenly things became more urgent. When can your husband get here? This is NOT an emergency now, but should active labor start quickly, a breech baby with no amniotic fluid poses a very high risk for cord prolapse - a life threatening event.

Next think I know, I'm on the OR schedule for 5:30am to have this baby?!?!?!!!!

Making a long story short, my mom RACED into town. My husband RACED to the hospital. At 545am I was in surgical prep. At 628am they made the first incision. And at 637am, our absolutely perfect miracle was born. 6lbs 6ozs. And 20 inches long. A New Year's Eve baby.

Um, yeah. It's 3 days later and the whole story still feels surreal to me. I'm supposed to be uncomfortably pregnant growing another 10 pound giant. Yet, I'm going to be released from the hospital in the morning to take my 5lb ??ounce baby home. (He was 5lb 15ounces at last weight check. He's in the nursery right now for his last weight check before discharge in the morning.)

Post op was a whirlwind. I may blog more about my surgery later, or I may not. I haven't yet decided how I will best come to terms with some of what happened. But let's say that I was not nearly as numb as I think I should have been and the instant he was safely out, I was knocked out cold. So my memories of recovery are very vague - other than the puking - I remember lots of puking.

But more concerning during this time is that they couldn't bring the baby to me as he and his medical team were fighting to keep him out of the NICU. While 36 weeks isn't super early, Caucasian males have the slowest developing lungs of any neonate group and he was very grunty, not clearing his fluid well, not regulating his own temperature, and not maintaining his blood sugar. Any of those in isolation are fairly common, but all together meant they were having a hard time getting him to stabilize.

To say that I was a disaster hearing this news is an understatement. Particularly in my drug haze. But in hindsight of course, everyone was doing what was best for him and it was only about 4-5 hours after his birth before they brought him to me - stable and without needing a trip to the NICU.

And ever since that moment when I finally got to hold him . . . All has been right in the world. My nipples are sore. My incision hurts like hell. I'm sleep deprived. And I miss my 3 year old like crazy. But our perfect miracle is here. I look back at the journey of this blog. The heartache. The depression. The tears - oh, so many tears. And every step of this journey has brought me here. To this moment. With my second perfect little boy. A tiny (really tiny) human being with the most beautiful head of sandy brown hair you can imagine. Our son. Our miracle. I am one incredibly blessed mommy. Beyond blessed.