William Meets his Yaya and Papa

My mom and Alfredo flew in to see William on Friday - and it was confirmed that they flew in to see WILLIAM - not me :) My mom hardly even noticed that I was driving the car that William was sitting in when she saw him at the airport pick up. Here he is with them:

We've been having lots of fun since she got here, and William has been growing like a bean pole! He seems to be in between his newborn and 0-3 month clothes right now...his newborn clothes are getting tighter and tighter, but his 0-3 month clothes still seem to swim on him. They sure look precious though!

Austin is having a very busy week at work this week. Last night he didn't get home until 8:00 - and he said the entire week may be like that. So I'm especially thankful for the timing of my mom's visit. See Mom, isn't it good that you didn't come right when he was born??? Just a thought :)

We have an errand to run, so its a good thing William just fell asleep. So we're off for now!

Doctor Doctor, Give me the News

I got a bad case of loooooooving William!

Austin doesn't know very many baby/kid songs, but he likes to sing to William so he'll frequently sing "normal" songs and just personalize the lyrics for William. He has gotten me into it too, hence the "doctor, doctor..." One of his coworkers told me that the stories I tell of him and William change his entire "tough guy" image that he gives off at work - so I'm wondering if I'm painting a new portrait of Austin for some of you? He's not always big and bad like he tries to appear to be - and he definitely melts when William is around :)

But, the point of all of this wasn't to talk about Austin - it was to talk about William's 2 week pediatrician appointment! At his first appointment he weighed 6 pounds 7 ounces, which means he had lost 9% of his birth weight. That is to be expected, and then they expect that by the time the 2 week appointment comes around the baby has regained the loss and is back up to their birth weight. Well - today William weighed 7 pounds, 1 ounce which is perfect. Ideally an infant will gain between .5 and 1.3 ounces per day, and 10 ounces in 11 days is right on track for that weight gain. Good job William!

I must say the weight gain hasn't been terribly easy. Breastfeeding didn't go very well for me or for William, and because he was slightly jaundiced it was difficult to get him to stay awake long enough to eat enough in his first week. But, as the jaundice went away he gained some perkiness and with that he gained some weight.

Breastfeeding and Daycare: two topics I am overly sensitive talking about. I have to say that I've never had much of an opinion on either topic, and I still don't, but I know a lot of people do and I am sitting on the commonly judged side of both topics. Medically there are lots of advantages to breast feeding, and I've always known that. I also know, though, that formula companies do such a good job of trying to replicate the milk God gave us and the only thing that is lacking are the antibodies that mother's can provide. The opinion I've always taken, though, is that breast feeding isn't for everyone and that, to steal a quote from William's doctor, "no one was ever denied the Nobel Prize because they weren't breast fed". I never knew if breast feeding would be for me or not, or how I'd feel about it, but the moment William was born I had the strongest urge to feed him and provide him with the nourishment he needs - and I felt the best way for me to do that would be to breast feed. The nurses at the hospital were very helpful in trying to teach both William and me how to go about feeding, and I thought we were doing pretty well.

However, as the days went on once we were at home and William's jaundice got slightly worse, he was feeding less and less - and I wasn't ever comfortable knowing how much he was actually getting. Then he got to a point where he wouldn't feed at all. I contacted a lactation consultant at Nourish Family Center - and she was extremely helpful. I had an appointment with her last Monday, then a follow up on Thursday, and we worked on feeding and pumping. She gave me a guideline for a schedule that we should try, and some tips and tricks. At our Thursday follow up though, she found that William was taking less breast milk than he had on Monday, and he hadn't gained as much weight in the 3 days as would be expected. She recommended that I continue pumping 8 times a day, but that I just try breast feeding once a day and then feed him breast milk in a bottle for the other feedings. She was also concerned that I was producing less than I had been on Monday, so she said I would probably have to supplement with formula until my supply increased. Over the last 6 days, however, my supply has diminished to nearly nothing. I was very disappointed and rough on myself about it, and I felt like I wasn't taking care of my baby in the way that I, as a mother, am supposed to. No one ever forced that thought on me in the hospital or at the lactation center, I just had that feeling in my gut. But it seemed the more I stressed, the less I produced and the more upset I got. I tried an herbal tea called "mother's milk", tried other tips I had heard at Nourish and read online - but ultimately it just kept diminishing. I have been aware for a few years that sometimes women with hypothyroidism are unable to produce milk for whatever reason, but I never really thought it'd happen just because I have been pretty stable on my medication for quite awhile. I'm not sure if that is the culprit or if it is just a fluke of nature, but whatever the reason - I appear to be unable to produce nearly enough milk to feed William.

Then on Monday I made a decision. I decided that my sanity and confidence in myself as a mother are pretty valuable, and are both fairly important in helping me take the best care of William that I can. I reminded myself that I've never held a strong opinion one way or the other on breast feeding for a reason, and that I myself was formula fed and turned out just fine. I realized that the longer I carried on this pattern of pumping, bottle feeding, and beating myself up over my inability to produce more the worse I was going to feel - and that William will be just fine if he is a formula fed baby. Since I made this realization, I have felt a huge weight lifted off my shoulders and no longer feel like an inadequate mother. Today Dr. Caplan reassured those feelings when I discussed with him the issues I'd been having. He said "the only thing that matters here is that William looks wonderful. He is exactly where I would want him to be in weight, his heart and lungs are healthy, his reactions are perfect - you did a great job carrying him in your womb and you're doing a great job caring for him now. No one is going to kick you out of the country or to another planet because you can't breast feed your baby, and obviously he is doing just fine. Do I think breast milk is better when possible? Yes - but it isn't always possible, it isn't for everyone, and William is going to be just fine because you are a good mother."

I said that breast feeding and daycare are the topics I am most sensitive about because both are met with such strong opinions and judgements, especially by mothers who DO breast feed and DON'T do daycare. Mothers who fall into both of those categories seem to feel even stronger about the issues. (typically, but not always...my mom falls into both and doesn't fit the bill here) I've heard it described in lots of ways, but the bottom line is that mothers who formula feed and mothers who choose to work rather than stay home are often judged as selfish for taking the easier (formula fed) road, and selfish for choosing their career and personal achievements over the best care for their baby. Would I breast feed if I could? Yes, I would. But do I think other mothers who formula feed aren't caring for their babies? Not in a million years. Every situation is different and I can't pretend to know what is the best choice for other households. Also, I am not choosing to work because I care more about my career than I care about William - that is insane. If someone wanted to continue to deposit $X,XXX into my bank account every 2 weeks while letting me stay home staring at William I'd do it in heart beat. But I don't see anyone lining up to do that!

The bottom line is, like I said earlier, that as moms we are all (or all SHOULD be) taking care of our babies in the best way we think we can. What is best for one mom and baby may not be best for the next, and what we think is most important for our baby may not be the opinion of the mom next door. But neither is wrong or right. I want to be able to provide for William in a way that I wouldn't be able to if I weren't working - and I feel that the things we will offer him are important for him. I also am very proud of the school he will be going to and feel like they will be able to aid in his development socially and educationally in ways that I wouldn't be able to do at home by myself. I apologize for the soap box, and please understand that I am not sitting in judgement of people who make different choices. I am simply defending myself, as I am oftentimes judged for my choices.

I'm not sure how I got from the happy update of William's appointment to my defensive feelings on breast feeding and day care, but here we are. I'm guessing this blog update was more than most of you cared to know - apologies! But like I've said before, this blog is more for my own writing needs than for your entertainment so if I'm not entertaining you enough...feel free to give up on me :)

To close I'll just say that the rest of the doctor appointment went well. William has grown half an inch in length, his head has grown half an inch in circumference, and he is one ounce heavier than he was when he was born. His heart and lungs were great, and he eventually stopped crying after the mean, mean nurse stole his blood via a heel poke (what a painful way to steal blood!) He's now peacefully sleeping in my lap and I'm pretty certain he has forgotten all about the abuse he endured. Besides, he did "stick it to the man" when he peed all over the paper on the race care bed. That's my boy!

Efficient Cooking

I just finished eating lunch and as I savored my last bite of chicken tortilla soup, I realized how thankful I am that Kaila, Jodi and I had our cooking extravaganza 2 weeks ago.

It was all Kaila's idea but I had no objections. I had just gotten off bed rest so the 3 of us wanted to hang out, and when we were trying to think of what to do Kaila suggested we cook a bunch of meals for Austin and I to freeze so that once William was born we wouldn't have to worry about cooking. So one afternoon we all went to the grocery store and got ingredients for 6 meals - then went back to Kaila's and cooked them all. Kaila stayed by the stove, I chopped vegetables, mixed things and poured finished meals into dishes, and Jodi worked on a lot of the assembly of Kaila and my work. In 3 hours we made chicken tortilla soup, chili, baked spaghetti, chicken enchiladas, breakfast burritos, and sloppy-joe type meat for sandwiches.

Almost 2 weeks have gone by since we thawed the first meal the night we brought William home and we still have a pan of baked spaghetti, half of the chili and chicken tortilla soup, and half of the BBQ sandwich meat. We would have enough to make another pan of enchiladas if I didn't love the salsa so much that I could nearly drink it :)

So in 3 hours I was able to feed Austin and myself for 2 weeks. I wonder if I could convince Kaila and Jodi we should do this again??? I guess to be fair we'd have to make more than 6 dishes and split them...but maybe I could milk the new-mom thing just a liiiiiitle but longer???

Plus Steffanie is coming over tonight to make us dinner and Corrine is coming tomorrow. I will definitely need to pay all of this forward!

Another Week???

So much for my short blogs periodically huh? Apparently - according to a calendar and not to my senses - a week has passed since I last blogged. How could that be?

Austin is back at work today and William and I aren't crazy about it. I know I'll be able to get more done while he sleeps than I did when Austin was here, but I still prefer his company :)

In the last week we've somewhat gotten adjusted to having this little blessing in our lives. We are more used to the routine, he has more of a sleep schedule than he did before, and we're finding ourselves able to remember things like eating and brushing our teeth :) If we didn't have each other around to remind us of those things, I think we both may have gone a couple days without remembering to eat during that first week. We've gotten used to him waking us up at night, we're used to his hungry noises versus his "faker" noises that he makes in his sleep, and I THINK we've gotten the diaper timing down so that he doesn't make a mess all over himself. I'm sure he'll prove me wrong again soon - we're due for a wet bed sometime again soon :)

We had a baby photographer come Sunday morning for a little while and she got some really cute pictures. At least I think she did! I am anxiously waiting for her to let me know that some "sneak peak" pictures are up on her blog.

Other than that, I don't really know what's going on in the world. We have been enjoying the Olympics - I'm not sure I can say I've ever really followed the Olympics, winter or summer, but we've been enjoying watching them whenever they're on. Sure helps out with the mid-day TV slump!

Overall, I feel like I've been home since the new year but having him here with me sure beats the hell out of being on bed rest! Now that Austin is back at work I have big plans of more frequent visits with my Wii Fit trainer (she's just a computerized lady but she can be pushy!) and more frequent blog posts. We'll see if William proves me wrong yet again - so far he has a way with that!

Happy One Week Birthday!

Happy one week birthday to my precious baby boy! Austin and I thought it'd be fun to celebrate his first week of life with baby cupcakes, complete with a candle that we blew out together. And the timing was perfect because William was actually awake for the candle part!

I thought it'd be nice to get back to blogging and in honor of William's one week birthday, I thought I'd back up and tell you more about what happened ago one week (in two hours) ago. Do not read ahead if you don't want birth details!

Last Monday night I was restless. Austin and I generally go to bed around 10 or 10:30 (ok really we go to bed earlier but I didn't want to sound lame) but on Monday night I couldn't get to sleep until almost 11:00 - which meant it was my third night in a row of restless sleeping. Then I woke up at 2:00 and could not for the life of me fall back asleep. I tried getting up, tried turning over, drinking water, waking Austin up - nothing worked. So I stayed awake in bed from 2:00 until 6:00 when my alarm went off. I was miserable getting ready for work - and it was only my second day back! I told Austin that I had FINALLY gotten to the point that not only did I accept that William could be born on Feb 2, but I WANTED him to be. The bad part of this was that, at this point, I was just certain it wasn't going to happen.

That changed at about 10:00 when I realized that I was having contractions every 5 minutes. They stayed that steady for an hour, but then they tapered off a bit to about 7-8 minutes apart. I wasn't supposed to call the doctor unless they were consistent at 5 minutes apart and lasting one minute each, so I just continued to work (or tried to) through the contractions, just hoping they'd pick up sometime. At 11:30 my coworkers threw a baby shower (perfect timing huh?) so I tried to smile through it despite the fact that I wanted to be in the hospital working on delivering a baby!

I talked to a few people about how far apart the contractions were and spoke with the nurse once, but because they never made it back up to 5 minutes apart the nurse wanted me to keep my 4:15 appointment for that afternoon. When I got to the doctor's office the nurse took my weight, measured his heart beat - just did the general initial check-in type things. The doctor came in and wasted no time - first thing she did was check my cervix. I don't think we spoke for a full minute before she sent me to the hospital. Her words, which I'll want you to remember in a few minutes, were "You're 4 centimeters my dear, you're in labor. Go to the hospital and I'll see you there in a bit - I'm on call tonight". She left the room and I just stared at Austin in shock. True as it may be that 12 hours prior to this point I was begging to go into labor, hearing the words were just unreal. I'm going to have a baby? Really? Be a mommy? I mean I know I've been preparing for 9 months - but really??? I couldn't believe it!

We got to the hospital and got situated around 5:30. Apparently there were 4 other women who arrived within 30 minutes so the triage nurses let me know that Sue would be coming in to finish the shift, and then at shift change we'd get the nurse who'd be with us all night. Sue was NOT my friend. She started out nice enough - and I'm not too picky about doctors or nurses, but when she made it abundantly clear that she thought it was ridiculous that we were even in the hospital, Austin and I were both pretty irritated. We didn't go to the hospital on a whim or just because we felt like we should - we went to the hospital because my DOCTOR told me to. If the nurse had an issue with that, shouldn't she have been taking it up with Dr Russell rather than me? She also told me more than once that I was not having real contractions, and that the only reason Dr Russell sent me in was because I was complaining of the pain and couldn't handle it. Please remember that Dr Russell and I spoke for less than a minute at my appointment and my pain level had not made it into that brief conversation. Please also remember that I had been having contractions for 3.5 weeks, so I'm pretty sure I had the hang of it at this point. I called Dr Russell at one point to make sure there wasn't some sort of confusion, because I didn't appreciate being told that I wasn't in labor and that the doctor only sent me to the hospital essentially for pain management. She assured me that I was in labor and that because I had so much pre term labor, she anticipated that at some point things would pick up and William would be born rather quickly so she wasn't comfortable sending me home.

She's a doctor for a reason.

At 8:00 she came in and said I was 5 centimeters and that she was going to break my water. As she was going to break my water she noticed I had a contraction, and also noticed that the monitor wasn't picking them up. Thanks a lot for believing me, Sue. She recommended that if I intended to have an epidural I do it soon because you never know how quickly things will progress. And she was right! The anesthesiologist came in at 8:30 and finished his job around 9:15. At that point Sarita (Sue left sometime after 7 thankfully and was replaced by Sarita who I loved) had a few things to take care of and she finished off by checking my dilation. She said I was about 7cm, which surprised her because she still hadn't been able to get the monitor to register my contractions so she had no idea I'd go from 5 to 7 cm in an hour. I asked her what her prediction was for a birth time, knowing there was no exact science by which to predict, and she said she'd guess sometime around 1 or 2 in the morning. I said "oh, I kind of wanted it to be before midnight". She was on the left side of my bed at that point and she walked around to the right to mess with the monitor. In the time it took her to walk around the bed I said "Sarita, I feel something very odd...its weird..." She kept asking me to describe it but I couldn't, so she said she'd take a look again. Then she said "Well that little monkey! You're going to get your wish - you are 10cm!" She told me that I needed to try very hard to not push because he'd be born very soon and she needed to get the doctor back in. Dr Russell came in around 10:15 and Sarita told her that I was 10cm but that his head wasn't "there" yet, so we were still ok. As Sarita helped Dr Russell get her gown on, Dr Russell took a "peek" and said "nope, his head is right there. Ok Amanda, next time you feel like it go ahead and push. It may take awhile, I don't know, but he's right there ready to come out" A couple of minutes later I felt it again, so I pushed - and with one push he was out. I wasn't even sure what was going on and all of a sudden she was raising up this perfect little baby for me to see.

I have to say, as cliche as I know it sounds - there has never been a more incredible feeling than seeing my son for the first time. Months of dreaming of him, planning for him, praying for him and wondering what he'd look like - in one instant it was all a distant memory as he was right there in front of me. And he was more perfect that I had ever imagined he'd be. He has a full head of blonde hair, his daddy's eyes, his mommy's mouth and he is the most beautiful sight my eyes have ever seen.

We spent the next day and night in the hospital and were discharged Thursday to come home. What a surreal feeling! The last time I had been at my house I felt like I had weeks before he'd be here, yet there I was carrying him around and showing him his home. It's been a blur of a week - days and nights running together, time passing so quickly I can hardly keep up. I had no idea how wonderful this experience was going to be...and I know it has only just begun!

Austin is on paternity leave right now and will go back to work next Tuesday. I am so thankful that he has had this time off and we've been able to enjoy this quiet time as a new family of three. The extra help during the days has been great too :) My mom and Alfredo are coming to visit next Friday, then I believe Candace and Herb are coming, and after that Brandon and Dana are coming - so I know the next few weeks/months will be just as much a blur as the last week has been. I'm doing my best to relax and savor every moment - watch him make his faces, listen to his sounds, and cuddle with him as much as I can because I know that time won't stand still just because I want it to. I'll do my best to keep up with the blog, but I can't promise the frequency that I once offered - staying home with William offers much less extra time than working full time at Western Union :) I'll try to post some short, quick blogs just to keep it updated - maybe that'll be a nice compromise.

For now - here's our baby boy at one week clinching his daddy's finger as he sucks on his hand, the exact thing he did the moment he was first placed on my chest. We are in Heaven.

February 2

I don't want you to think for ONE MINUTE that this is going to be the only post about the wonderful, miraculous birth of William Timothy Wallis. But this is the one that has been in the works for a week or so and it just seemed fitting that I get this one out there first.

On February 2, 1998 the world lost one of the greatest men to have ever existed. That is my personal biased opinion, of course. On February 2, 1998 my dad passed away and my life was forever changed. Then, exactly 12 years later, the world was blessed with the most beautiful baby that ever existed. Again, my personal biased opinion. I was richly blessed on February 2, 2010 as God gave me the greatest gift he could give: one of his children.

Nine months ago when I found out I was pregnant, one of the first things I did was calculate my expected due date. It took me a matter of seconds to realize that I was going to be due less than 3 weeks after the 12th anniversary of my dad's death. At the time, that seemed like the most cruel joke God could have played, and I just knew that He would never put me in that position. How could He ask me to choose grieving the loss of my dad or celebrating the gift of my son? On top of that, what are the odds?

However, three weeks ago when my pregnancy took a more challenging turn I was quickly faced with the fact that February 2 was now a more likely birthdate for William than his actual due date of February 21. I was mortified. I have had countless conversations with God over the last few weeks on this one topic, and it wasn't until last week that I was finally at peace with it. I know that God has a divine plan for my life, and I know that He created William so perfectly in His eyes that there is no way His plan has a flaw.

The reason his being born on February 2 mortified me is simple. Selfishly, I did not want to have to give up "my day". For the last 12 years that has been the one day out of the year that I have felt I am exempt from the rules of life. If I want to stay in bed crying, if I want to shout from the rooftops of life's shortcomings, or if I want to breeze through the day as if it never existed - it has been my day. My friends have come to accept that some years I'll be fine and some years I'll be a wreck. And it is the one day that I allow myself to fully give in to my emotions, regardless of the potential consequences. While it may sound ridiculous that I would want a day to devote to sadness and to consume with thoughts of death, it was my day to do with as I pleased and remember my dad in whichever way I needed to at the time. And sadly, it seemed to be the only day left that I felt like I had with my dad. Throughout the grief process, as life moves on and the world continues to spin I have found my reminders of my dad and my connections to my dad have slimmed. But February 2 was forever going to be his day. How could I let that go?

But last week when I finally came to terms with the possibility, which turned out to be God's plan, I realized that things truly do happen for a reason. It's so poetic that its almost unreal that my dad's first grandchild, a boy who would be given his name, would be born on the anniversary of the day he died. A lot of things had to fall into perfect place for this to even work out this way. First, Austin had to get home from Arizona exactly when he did. I had to stop having menstrual issues that had been occurring for over a year. The baby had to be a boy, I had to have preterm labor issues, my delivery had to be as unpredictable as it was, and ultimately everything had to fall into place on this one special day. How could all of those things have happened if not for God's plan and control?

I've heard the opinions of a multitude of people on this topic over the last few weeks. Some people who felt, like I did, that it would just be too much to share the day and that it would just not be fair. Some people felt it would be too poetic for it to not happen, and some people who just felt that no matter what - everything would be ok. I have to say I do greatly appreciate every one's opinions and support, and I appreciate that there were varied opinions. How devastated would I have been if EVERYONE had been telling me how tragic it would be, only to find out that was in fact what happened? And how lonely would I have felt if EVERYONE had told me that it would be poetically perfect and that it just had to happen that way while I was still in the process of coming to terms with it? I needed the range of opinions to help me get from where I was to where I am now.

Possibly one of the greatest opinions I received was from my mom. After all, who knew my dad better? One of the hardest struggles I've had with having lost my dad at such a young age has been that I did not ever get to know him fully as a person. I was just too young. I haven't blamed myself for not knowing him or not paying enough attention, I've just found myself wishing that I had been older so that I could have known more about him. I wish I knew things about him like what my mom told me last week. After I told her the doctor's prediction of Feb 2, she told me that she thinks it would be a wonderful way to honor my dad. She told me that my dad hated for attention to be on himself, and he never wanted to be in the spotlight. She said he would much rather we all be focused on something else, someone else, and celebrating someone's life rather than continuing to devote the day to grieving our loss. Further, he'd be honored that it was his grandson who was able to carry on the cycle of life after death.

So while I didn't want to give up what I felt was our day, I've been able to come to a place where I realize I am not giving up our day. I don't ever have to give up the relationship I had with my dad, and I don't ever have to forget the man he was or how much he loved me. But instead of focusing on the sadness of his death, I can do what he would want and I can celebrate that his life has continued. In the form of family, in the form of his name, and in the form of a day becoming about life rather than death. If that's what he would want, then I can do that for him and I can feel like it has only made my connection with him that much stronger.

And so begins a new chapter of my life, with a new focus on the most symbolic day of my life. William Timothy Wallis is more perfect than I could have ever imagined, and that perfection began with the selection of his birth date.