Posts Tagged ‘Pregnancy’

Posted by Colleen     February 2, 2010

Giveaway: Hands Free Pumping Bustier from Simple Wishes

The Simple Wishes Hands Free Pumping Bustier is the latest solution for busy moms.

Affordable and attractive the Hands Free Pumping Bustier allows mom to multi-task. Instead of holding the breast pump mom can hold a book, cuddle her little one or just relax. The bustier is completely adjustable to fit each mom just right.

The Simple Wishes Hands Free Pumping Bustier was created by four sisters with years of experience in the fashion industry. As moms themselves they wanted to develop a stylish and functional product that would make life easier for other women.

Visit Simple Wishes site for more information or to purchase.

Simple Wishes is giving away a Hands Free Pumping Bustier to one Mommie Daze reader. To enter leave a comment telling me how this product would make your life easier.

Extra entries:

Earn one extra entry for each of the following. Leave a separate comment for each task that you complete.

1. Subscribe to Mommie Daze

2. Follow me on Twitter

3. Tweet the about the contest (Make sure to include @mommiedaze in the tweet)

4. Follow Mommie Daze on Networked Blogs

5. Follow Mommie Daze on Google Friend Connect (See sidebar)

6. Blog about the contest linking to this post

7. Fan Mommie Daze on Facebook.

Extra entries will be verified.

The contest is open to US residents over the age of 18. It ends at 11:59 February 8th. The winner will be chosen randomly, and notified by email.

Disclaimer: Product information was provided by Simple Wishes.

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Posted by Colleen     July 3, 2009

Two Years is a Long Time to Marinate

I really thought I was done.

Like the meat thermometer doesn’t go any higher, the chicken is all dried out done.

But I had a twinge the other day.

Already?

I’m not even recovered from the most recent total life-altering one.

I was shopping. I don’t remember where. I saw a very pregnant mom-to-be. And I actually felt a little sad that I wasn’t pregnant anymore.

That totally blindsided me because I don’t like being pregnant. And this last time I was so sick and miserable for so much of it, I was relieved when Wade came a month early as soon as I learned there weren’t any complications from him being slightly premature.

I’m so sleep deprived right now, and struggling to keep up with a newborn and four-year-old that I think, “You’re crazy for wanting to do this again!”

The doctor told me after the C-section that I could have one more, but that I needed to wait two years to let everything heal. Originally he’d said Wade would be my last if I didn’t have a VBAC this time. And at the time It didn’t matter because I thought I wanted Wade to be my last.

Two years is a long time. I’d be that much closer to 40. And do I really don’t want to be plagued with headaches and nausea and fatigue for months again? Do I really want to put my body through that again? It was more difficult to recover this time.

I was never one of those girls who dreamed of  being a mom. I didn’t even really play house growing up. I was sort of take it or leave it when it came to a family. I mean it was something I thought I’d do, but it wasn’t something I had to do. Then once I had two I was sure it would be enough.

I can think of a million reasons why I shouldn’t.

But there’s the one big reason I should.

Well, I guess we’ll wait and see how I feel two years from now.

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Posted by Colleen     May 20, 2009

What Do You Mean You Broke my Eggs?

So when you watch medical dramas on TV the doctors are always discussing the sordid details of their love life or their fantastic weekend in Vale while removing someone’s spleen, right? Well, it’s pretty much like that in real life. You find that out if you ever have a C-section with a spinal instead of general anesthesia.

I got to listen in on a very deep theological discussion between my doctor, who is Hindu, and the assisting surgeon and medical student, both Catholic Notre Dame grads, while they were delivering Wade. Then they got on the subject of Obama speaking at Notre Dame, and finally they talked about what a nice city South Bend is. I almost jumped in and said, “Hey, I went to college near South Bend too,” but wasn’t sure if it’s proper etiquette to shout over the paper curtain to your doctor while he’s stitching your uterus back together.

If you’ve ever had a C-section you also know that before they close you up they check your uterus and all the surrounding tissue and organs to make sure nothing was punctured or damaged during the procedure. I over heard this as well:

“O.K. I see one ovary. Where is the other? Do you see it?”

“Uh…no. Hmmm. That’s strange.”

“Let’s see…No, it’s not there. I’m pretty sure it’s not there.” (I heard just a hint of panic in Dr. R’s voice at that point.) He leaned around the curtain. “Colleen? I only see one ovary?”

“What? What do you mean there’s only one? They were both there yesterday!”

Alright, I didn’t say that, but I did think about it for half a second. I reminded Dr. R. that my eggs were all in one basket because I had an ovary removed years ago when it had a cyst on it.

I could see the the look of relief wash over his face, even with his mask on.

“Yes! Oh, yes! I remember you telling me that now.”

Stapling the incision was the last step before my surgery was finished. They asked the medical student to do that.

“How do you use this?”

“No one ever showed you how to use a stapler before?” I detected exasperation in the assisting surgeon’s voice.

“No,” the med student said sheepishly.

Not what I wanted to hear as I lay there imagining literally coming apart at the seams because the kid did it wrong.

“Just like this.” I heard a click  as the assisting surgeon demonstrated. “Now you.” I heard another click. “No. No. Like this.” Another click.

There were several more clicks. More than seemed necessary to cover the few inches of my incision.

When the nurse took the staples out the day I left the hospital she remarked that the staples didn’t seem quite right.

Oh, well.

I’m still in one piece.

Save the missing ovary.

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Posted by Colleen     May 1, 2009

I Guess the Dr. Cleared his Schedule for Me

Remember the OBGYN who I couldn’t pin down on an exact date for my C-section?

I just got a letter in the mail that states: (A form letter no less.)

Dear Colleen,

Your surgery is scheduled for June 4th, 2009 at 9:00 a.m. Please report to Labor and Delivery at 7:00 a.m. on the day of surgery.

Well, I guess that’s settled.

Really?

Good grief!

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Posted by Colleen     April 26, 2009

What I Did this Weekend (Because it is SO Interesting)

1. I spent Friday and Saturday recovering from stomach flu. (See this for David’s take on my illness.) For everyone freaking out over the latest doomsday news story, don’t worry. I am positive it was not the Swine Flu.

2. Friday it reached 86 degrees here. That’s way, way above normal for April 24th in Michigan. We turned on our central air. It didn’t work. We’re spoiled, and 86 degrees feels like Death Valley after months of temps below freezing. It didn’t help that I am almost 8 months pregnant and was recovering from the stomach flu. Definably calling the repair man first thing Monday morning.

3. We opened up all the windows and turned on every fan we could find. Then rain and a lot of wind kicked up. It blew in from the west. There is a freshly plowed field of rich, black soil immediately west of our house. Most of that lovely top soil coated everything in our kitchen. Black dust everywhere. Gross. And the rain didn’t even cool it off.

4. We, when I say we here I mean Dave, finished moving the laundry room to the basement so that we can turn that room upstairs into the nursery for Wade. It only required three trips to Home Depot in two days. Not bad. I think we’ve been there five or six times in one day before. It is such a relief to have that finished. Dave is a pretty handy guy to have around, but he’s particularly good with PVC pipe and Purple Primer. He is my plumbing hero right now.

5. Saturday it rained most of the day so it wasn’t quit as hot. That night I was feeling better and took David to the grocery store with me. We drove home in a bad thunderstorm during which the sky turned pink. I’ve seen the sky turn green, and that usually means there’s a tornado near by. Don’t know what pink means, but it was “a little creepy” as David said. Creepy is one of his favorite new words.

6. Sunday I felt well enough to realize that the house was a disaster after my languishing on the couch for two days and all the moving of appliances and black dirt everywhere. The laundry room was a catch-all too, so now that’s all in the basement. I’ve renamed the basement “The Pit”, because it’s become the new dumping ground. It’s got to be cleaned up before Wade arrives, because the guest room is down there and my mom will be staying there. Guess what I’ll be doing this week? At least it’s cool in the basement.

7. It was hot again on Sunday. And humid after all the rain. We went to get ice cream. I saw two other pregnant women at the Ice Cream shop when I was there. I guess it’s true what they say about pregnant women and ice cream.

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Posted by Colleen     April 16, 2009

32 Weeks and Counting

I was all excited to have new 3D Ultrasound pictures of Wade to post today, but he just wouldn’t pose for us.

Wade is still breech, and he’s all curled up on my right side. His face was turned away, and the technician couldn’t get any good pictures. I don’t imagine I’ll have another ultrasound, so I guess I’ll just have to wait for June to see his little face again. She did say he weights about 4 lbs. 3 oz. and everything still looks normal, so that’s good news.

David was his usual curious self, asking the technician a thousand questions. He loves to listen to the heartbeat, and kept asking to hear it over and over again. Thank goodness she’s a very patient woman with a four year old boy of her own.

For some reason when I lie flat on my back on the ultrasound table I start to get dizzy and feel nauseous. Does this happen to anyone else? It’s strange. I can lie on the table at the doctor’s office and it doesn’t bother me. But the ultrasound table sits at a different angle, and it’s really hard and uncomfortable. I had to  roll over on my side to keep from getting sick.

I have to admit I cheated with the water a little bit this time. I only drank 16 oz. instead of the recommended 24, and I didn’t start until about an hour before my appointment. I also used the bathroom about four times in the 30 minutes before I started drinking the water. And I ate Oatmeal for breakfast instead of cereal. I figured I didn’t need the extra liquid from the milk in my bladder. It made things a lot more tolerable, and I wasn’t yearning for a restroom quite as badly. I still say this is cruel and unusual punishment, however.

I was 32 weeks yesterday, but really only have 7 weeks left since the doctor is planning on doing the the C-Section about one week before my due date. I meet with him Tuesday, and I think we will officially schedule the birthday.

Now we just have to get the Wade’s bedroom set up, and I guess we’ll be ready.

As ready as you can be, anyway.

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Posted by Colleen     March 31, 2009

Breastfeeding, A Titillating Subject

I’ve read book after book and article after article that says breast is best, but I am not going to nurse Wade when he’s born in June.

Before David was born I did plan to breastfeed. It thought we’d save some money not buying formula. I was nervous about our budget since we were embarking on a new journey as a single income family. I almost had a heart attack the first time I saw the $25 sticker price on a can of formula.

I also knew all about the immunities that are passed along, and I was told it would help me loose the baby weight.

But David landed in the NICU for the first 48 hours of his life after he retained some fluid in his lungs after the C-section. Before I even knew what was happening the hospital started him on the bottle.

Sometime during the first evening after I was allowed to get out of bed, the lactation consultant showed up. She started giving me advice and poking and prodding me in places only my husband and doctor are allowed to go. Then we went down to the NICU, and I tried nursing David after he’d already had a few bottles. He just would not latch on.

The LC took me back to my room and hooked me up to an enormous Medela pump. Just laying there with out a baby even in the room, hooked up to all that equipment, I felt like a cow at a dairy farm.

And I was still reeling from being felt up by a strange woman.

I pumped and tried nursing David the next day and night too. But he wouldn’t eat from anything but a bottle.

Finally, on the third morning after he was born, David was released from the NICU to my room. With him close by I ramped up my efforts to breast feed him. They told me not to give him the bottle this time. To just wait, and he’d get hungry and eat eventually. Some time around three in morning, after he hadn’t eaten all day, wouldn’t sleep, and was crying because I’m sure he was starving, I gave him a bottle.

He gulped it down.

And went to sleep.

The next morning before I left the hospital the lactation consultant paid me one more visit. She told me I’d have to continue to pump and supplement with a bottle until David finally started nursing.

I thought about the frustration of the last few days over not being able to get David to latch on, and me being hooked up to that machine.

I was already tired. You really can’t get any rest in the hospital. (They wake you up in the middle of the night to see how you’re sleeping, then ask you if you need a sleeping pill because you’re awake.)

The LC told me it could be days, even weeks, before we both got the hang of this breastfeeding thing. I just couldn’t see putting David or myself through more days and nights of the same. I was already stressing out about the whole thing. I knew with my impatient personality I’d loose my mind.

So the first thing I did after leaving the hospital was go shopping for bottles and formula. I didn’t even have any at home since I didn’t think we’d need them.

I never looked back. Bottle feeding gave me one less thing to worry about. I was able to relax and enjoy cuddling David while he ate instead of getting upset because he wasn’t latching on. I didn’t have to hook myself up to that horrible machine that made me feel like Bessie. And because my presence was not required, Dad or Grandma or Grandpa or whoever was around at feeding time could easily take over if I needed a break.

Four years later David is a very healthy, bright child. He’s in the 95 percentile for his height and weight. He’s the size of a lot of six year olds, and strong as an Ox. You ought to see the kid throw a ball. I’m thinking baseball scholarship. He doesn’t suffer from allergies, and he isn’t sick anymore than any other kid.

David knows his colors and his ABC’s. He can count almost to 20. He has a huge vocabulary.

I don’t think the bottle had any adverse affects on him.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t breastfeed. If you want to, and that works for you, then great.

What I am saying is, that despite all the rhetoric, you don’t have to.

Don’t feel guilty about not doing it. If it stresses you out, or doesn’t make you happy, or circumstances don’t allow it, or you just don’t want to, then don’t breastfeed. You’ll be a better mom in every other way if that one thing isn’t weighing you down.

And your child will not be sickly, or end up in remedial English because you didn’t nurse.

I know this is a controversial subject. There are people out there that will say you absolutely must breastfeed. And I’m sure they would tell me I’m selfish.

Well, I don’t agree. My personal experience tells me different.

What do you think? Talk to me.

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