So, This Is Who You Are!

Ashton, you are two months old and coming into your own little personality. I admit that it has taken family; friends and even I time to stop comparing you to your older brother. We don’t do this because you live in his shadow or will be forced to compete with him. As first time parents we only have our one experience (including looks, behavior and etc) to compare and contrast to your beginnings. It is no secret that you looked similar to Kaden at birth, which took us all back to the memories already in place as we made our new ones with you. As we have done this we are and have been aware you are your own person; and we have patiently waited to learn who this person is…

I remember telling Daddy you were going to be our serious baby. It was a few weeks before you were born. It was early evening and we were sitting on the couch feeling you move inside of me. I was guessing you were a smaller baby, for you never jabbed me, but you wiggled and moved. At this same time I expressed that I believed you were going to be a little person who took life in with more caution and observation. I have no idea why I felt this about you. A mother’s instinct?

You are very serious. You are almost too serious and it brings me laughter. You take time to warm up to smiling or cooing. A coo sounds like a cry and a smile can quickly turn upside down. You observe with great intensity. You don’t blink as you absorb one thing at a time. You don’t get distracted by what surrounds your focal point. I love watching you notice new things. It allows me to see beauty and simplicity in what surrounds us.

You are a tricky little guy. You have lungs, son. When you are not happy it is clear. We can watch red fill your face from the neck up. You will scowl and frown. Your body will overheat and it goes south ever so quickly. Your personality is much like mine: black and white. You know what you want and how it ‘should’ be. You have figured out your needs much quicker than I. I like to think that I am catching on.

Touch is important to you. As I am extremely hands on and a touchy feely personality I relish in this. I don’t have to say a word, but in touching your face, arm or leg you are soothed. You find comfort having skin-to-skin contact. We will indulge this by having Dad take his shirt off or I will change into a tank top placing your little naked body against our skin. You love water. The bath is comforting and brings you joy. You are a cheerful kid after bathing. I think we will have two water boys on our hands. This Mama should learn how to swim!

You are happiest sitting straight up propped in our arms or against our chest. You like to face the world. I hope you will continue to face the world as you do today in that you do so with your eyes wide open keeping your head high and open to what gifts are offered daily to your life. May you always always always remain interested in learning and seek new experiences. It is amazing the know-how an infant has. Hold tight to these abilities as they are innate, but often become ignored. As adults we seem to lose sight of these important life skills.

I look ahead and see you as the boss, not the baby. If I dare to make a prediction I envision you as the leader and the one who pushes the limits. I can’t wait to grow with you. I know there is much more to learn as you explore and discover. I look forward to meeting the older Ashton, but I will hang tight to this little person I know now.

I love you, Sprite Guy.

Contraception

Precursor: In starting this blog I vowed to be open and honest. No holds bar. It is life. We can all relate (to pieces), but not everyone shares their experiences in a public forum. If I don’t continue to write the entire story the purpose of this journaling blog would be in vain. Truth is humor… I love humor.

I am going back and forth. What do I do? Which one do I choose? It is an $800 decision… the Mirena is a five year choice with hormones while the copper ParaGard may remain for 10 years without hormones. I know I don’t have to worry about the time line. There won’t be procreation in 10 years or even 5 for that matter. It is the hormone release I am debating. ParaGard it is.

I tell Linda (midwife) I have chosen ParaGard. All of the sudden I feel like I am watching the ad on TV as she starts rambling off all the side effects… it is said at an auctioneers speed. “… It will enhance cramping and bleeding. It may tear the cervical wall. It isn’t 100% (But what is? Abstinence, my friends, abstinence is the only sure thing.). If you become pregnant there is a 20% chance it will end the pregnancy. Please sign on the line that you understand what I have told you…” I sign.

Here I am up in stirrups. One would think that after giving birth this would no longer bother a woman. Wrong. The modesty I stripped off on the delivery table was collected and returned. I don’t care who saw my vagi-gi a month and a half ago. I have reclaimed it as my very own… I no longer have to nor choose to share it with the masses. I just have to get through this last appointment. Relax as the examination of postpartum takes place. And relaxing is easier said than done.

Not only do I have my feet spread wide I have started the dreaded cycle. I have to do this exam at my very most vulnerable. I tried everything to get out of this appointment. However, it seems they don’t want your first born, nor your second. They just want your humility. I am told and I think it is worthy of saying that should a woman choose to have an IUD this is the very best time for insertion due to the softening of the Cervix. So, there ya have it. I am now a wife, mother and teacher of sexual contraception. Super.

So, here I am all ready for the exam. I want to die, but know it is unlikely. I have come to the awareness that foreign entities in my body make my stomach nauseous. This was part of the issue with my transfusion. It creeps me out. She explained that she would let me know what she was doing. I politely asked her not to. It would make me feel faint. It is hard enough to remain calm in the condition and position that I am in. I don’t care nor want to know any of the details. The deal was she would just go finish up the exam and procedure.

I have heard horror story after horror story of having an IUD inserted and the repercussions of the following days. It was a really hard decision to make. I don’t like inflicting pain on me. And after this last pregnancy and delivery I already feel like a lab rat. I didn’t particularly wish to continue with more probes and pokes. I hadn’t told Adam I was doing this. I just chose to do this on the fly. I keep thinking… it is going to hurt. If anyone is going to have the worse of the worse side effects it will be me.

I see an entire surgical tray next to her. “What the F is that for?” I ask. She laughs. “Are there needles involved? If there is I am so out of here.” I state with more certainty then I had all appointment. She guarantees that the tray is plan B, C and D. There are no needles. She assures me it will take no more than 5 minutes to get this baby in. Ironic that she chose to use the expression “baby in” considering her business is baby out.

“Okay, I am going to clean the Cervix.” Clean the what? Okay, forget that she agreed not to tell me what she is doing and move straight to what she is doing. I am humiliated. Who cleans their cervix? “Well, there is nothing like a clean Cervix.” I reply. She doesn’t respond to my humor or see that I am using it as a deflection. “It is important. You don’t want any bacteria to enter this area.” Good lord.

“You are going to feel cramping. It will be similar to a mild contraction. I have to hold down the Cervix.” She continues to map out her step-by-step IUD play book. “Yep. Hold ‘er down. I would hate for it to go anywhere…” Again, she is clinical in explaining why she must do this. What part of I don’t care is she not understanding?

And it is over. Phew. It was so simple. Quick. Fast.

At the end of the appointment she has me feel a piece of the IUD thread that wasn’t used. It is more like a fishing line. I learn I can officially ‘do it’ without worry tomorrow. Well, I know that isn’t happening. I now need to let Adam know I went forward with this decision. I hope he respects my choice. Will he understand this decision isn’t because I want to have a child, but rather I am not ready to give up the choice to have more children. There is a huge difference.

I playfully text Adam the news of my new addition and to my surprise he replied, “I am glad you did that. I was hoping you would.”

It would seem that today we are on the same page of our love story.

Baby Morning Confessions

Confession: I am in baby morning.

I don’t know how this has happened. I have a newborn right here snoring by my side. He is perfect. He was named our last (biological) child. But is he? I can’t be sure. My hormones are enraged and trying to find a balance. This alone leaves me teetering back-and-forth as to what is in store for the growth of our family. All I can say, I am in baby morning.

I am a personality that on day three of a 12 day vacation will be counting down the days until we are back home. I already plan for the end vs the beginning. I have a hard time sitting in my space enjoying the present time. I am rushing to get to the end. I meet the end and find nothing but my own disappointment that I greeted it so openly and prematurely. I do this with my son’s too. I look ahead and see that Ashton (even at two months) is no longer a baby. Insane, indeed! He is just beginning to out grown NB clothing, so we may as well book his first birthday party- right? I have never claimed to be rational.

Baby morning runs deep. It catches my breath. I too am caught by surprise by this bug. I simply cannot shake it. Are we really ready to say good-bye to this stage of life? I was gung-ho adios baby making days 6 weeks ago. Now, I am questioning the permanency of this decision. Does Adam really go in for his procedure in June? Are we really calling it quits? If the pill fails us would we survive one of life’s greatest surprises (again!)? I don’t have the answer. To think I may never hold a 9lb baby against my chest as I enjoy the silence only midnight brings is both chilling and exciting. I do the math… I will be how old when Kade graduates high school? I will be HOW OLD if I give birth a third time? It is startling. The math alone should not have me think twice having me load Adam into the car for the old snippety-snip.

Baby morning is a serious condition. It makes me feel crazy. One minute I can’t wait to outgrow the infant stage and the very next moment I yearn to repeat what has just lapsed. Some may call this postpartum (which I will admit has its similarities). In making decisions I am thoughtful. I look at all the angles. I seek and think. And at the end of the day I am still morning a loss by a choice that hasn’t even been made.
The more Adam and I talk about this decision the more we confuse one another. He is in. I am out. I am in and he is out. What if… What if there comes a time that we both find ourselves on the same page wishing we would have had three (biological) children. This ‘what if’ carries a great deal of weight.

I leave my six week appointment… I call Adam.

Confession: I have an IUD.