And the following is another one of my faves. It's got more of a sentimental tone to it, yet it's also modern and clever. Without fail, it makes my eyes all watery every time I watch it. Every time.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
swagger wagon and dear sophie
The husband and I are both of the camp that we'll never buy a minivan (though we do understand how awesome they are from a practicality standpoint), but the following video is still one of my current favorites to watch. Absolutely hysterical.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
fast forward to now
Before I became a mother, I never really understood why parents would talk like they had no time for anything. I mean, sure, I understood that kids are demanding and will obviously leave you with less free time than you once had, but I didn't really understand. Those parents had to be exaggerating just a bit. I also thought that the really hard work didn't come until the child was older, and that the beginning wouldn't be too difficult since babies can't really do much of anything, right? As long as we made sure the baby was always fed, burped, and changed when need be, it should be somewhat smooth sailing, right?
Ha. I was in for a rude awakening.
Apparently, I underestimated the incredible power of one of the few things that babies can do: CRY.
When I was pregnant, I had read the baby books, watched the DVD's, read everything I could online, took the classes at the hospital, and talked to friends who had kids, but none of it adequately prepared me for Isabelle. Evidently, newborns don't just cry when they're hungry or need a diaper change. Oftentimes, they'll cry for what seems to us like no reason at all. And then they'll cry some more. And some more.
Actually, the first week or two were pretty easy because she slept a lot of the time (newborns sleep a LOT). We were like, "Wow, this isn't too hard!" And then it all changed. And that "Happiest Baby on the Block" stuff that so many people swear by didn't really work for us. The swaddling helped a little, but other than that... not so much. Even putting her in her car seat and taking a drive had the opposite effect it does on most babies; while it usually puts most babies right to sleep, Isabelle would scream her head off as soon as she was put into a car (and this aversion to the car lasted for about 5-6 months. Going anywhere in a car was a super stress-filled event during this time.). She also wouldn't take a pacifier, but she would nurse and/or suck on one of our fingers if we offered it to her. She wouldn't stay in a swing for very long, but she'd stay somewhat content in our arms so long as we were constantly rocking/swaying AND standing up. It was as if she knew better than to accept any fake substitutes and demanded no less than the real thing... and she never hesitated to be very vocal about it (and did I mention that when she'd cry, she'd give it 110%? Boy could she be LOUD!). She didn't fit the definition of colicky, but she sure was very demanding (especially compared to other babies I would see who would, to my amazement, just sit/lay there staring into space. Isabelle was definitely not an easygoing baby like that. And according to my mom, I was just like her when I was a baby. Um... hi karma!)! Ironically, the first few months that I had previously thought would be the easiest were actually the most difficult. In hindsight, I think it was due to a combination of some reflux (which her pediatrician prescribed her some baby Zantac for) and her personality/temperament (she is a very perceptive, strong-willed, spirited, feisty little girl). And on top of all this, nursing was extra difficult because I had major oversupply issues (which you think would be a good problem to have considering all of the mothers who face undersupply issues... but to make a long story short, oversupply is probably just as frustrating and hard), but we stuck with it and are almost at our goal of nursing for at least 1 year.
Thankfully, being a first-time mom who is completely and utterly in love with her child gave me superhuman levels of patience, determination, and somehow surviving on less sleep than I ever thought possible to get me through those first few tough months. Or maybe I just like to think that's how it was--that I had superpowers or something. In reality, though, I probably got through it simply because I didn't really have a choice. LOL
Fast forward to now. Isabelle is almost 12 months, and she's still just as perceptive, strong-willed, spirited, and feisty as always, but she's also a much happier baby who frequently smiles and laughs with gusto. I think she just didn't like being a newborn. When she was a newborn, I'd often feel as if she was a toddler who was frustrated to be stuck in a newborn's body. It sounds funny, but that's really how the situation seemed to me sometimes. The older she got and the more mobile she got, the happier she got. She's definitely a handful, but she makes me smile every day. And she makes my heart melt into a puddle of mush every day. And she makes me proud every day.
Ha. I was in for a rude awakening.
Apparently, I underestimated the incredible power of one of the few things that babies can do: CRY.
When I was pregnant, I had read the baby books, watched the DVD's, read everything I could online, took the classes at the hospital, and talked to friends who had kids, but none of it adequately prepared me for Isabelle. Evidently, newborns don't just cry when they're hungry or need a diaper change. Oftentimes, they'll cry for what seems to us like no reason at all. And then they'll cry some more. And some more.
Actually, the first week or two were pretty easy because she slept a lot of the time (newborns sleep a LOT). We were like, "Wow, this isn't too hard!" And then it all changed. And that "Happiest Baby on the Block" stuff that so many people swear by didn't really work for us. The swaddling helped a little, but other than that... not so much. Even putting her in her car seat and taking a drive had the opposite effect it does on most babies; while it usually puts most babies right to sleep, Isabelle would scream her head off as soon as she was put into a car (and this aversion to the car lasted for about 5-6 months. Going anywhere in a car was a super stress-filled event during this time.). She also wouldn't take a pacifier, but she would nurse and/or suck on one of our fingers if we offered it to her. She wouldn't stay in a swing for very long, but she'd stay somewhat content in our arms so long as we were constantly rocking/swaying AND standing up. It was as if she knew better than to accept any fake substitutes and demanded no less than the real thing... and she never hesitated to be very vocal about it (and did I mention that when she'd cry, she'd give it 110%? Boy could she be LOUD!). She didn't fit the definition of colicky, but she sure was very demanding (especially compared to other babies I would see who would, to my amazement, just sit/lay there staring into space. Isabelle was definitely not an easygoing baby like that. And according to my mom, I was just like her when I was a baby. Um... hi karma!)! Ironically, the first few months that I had previously thought would be the easiest were actually the most difficult. In hindsight, I think it was due to a combination of some reflux (which her pediatrician prescribed her some baby Zantac for) and her personality/temperament (she is a very perceptive, strong-willed, spirited, feisty little girl). And on top of all this, nursing was extra difficult because I had major oversupply issues (which you think would be a good problem to have considering all of the mothers who face undersupply issues... but to make a long story short, oversupply is probably just as frustrating and hard), but we stuck with it and are almost at our goal of nursing for at least 1 year.
Thankfully, being a first-time mom who is completely and utterly in love with her child gave me superhuman levels of patience, determination, and somehow surviving on less sleep than I ever thought possible to get me through those first few tough months. Or maybe I just like to think that's how it was--that I had superpowers or something. In reality, though, I probably got through it simply because I didn't really have a choice. LOL
Fast forward to now. Isabelle is almost 12 months, and she's still just as perceptive, strong-willed, spirited, and feisty as always, but she's also a much happier baby who frequently smiles and laughs with gusto. I think she just didn't like being a newborn. When she was a newborn, I'd often feel as if she was a toddler who was frustrated to be stuck in a newborn's body. It sounds funny, but that's really how the situation seemed to me sometimes. The older she got and the more mobile she got, the happier she got. She's definitely a handful, but she makes me smile every day. And she makes my heart melt into a puddle of mush every day. And she makes me proud every day.
labor days
I delivered last August (2010) about a week early at 39 weeks and 1 day. I kept reading and hearing about how first time mothers usually deliver late (like up to 2 weeks late! most doctors will induce if you don’t deliver by that time), and I was worried I would have to wait that long… because my parents had already scheduled a specific timeframe to visit us… and if she arrived 2 weeks late, then they wouldn’t even get to see her! Turns out she was born on the exact day they arrived here (though they arrived a few hours after I had delivered since they had a 10 hour drive)… so the timing turned out to be perfect and they were able to spend their whole 2 weeks here with the baby already here.
As for my birth plan, I was able to stick to it in that I had a regular birth (non-csection and without any instruments i.e. forceps or vaccuum, which is a big thing I was afraid of), BUT I ended up caving in and getting the epidural after 27 hours of labor. From the first contraction up until I delivered took 36 hours. I woke up in the middle of the night (like 3:30am) on the day of 39 weeks feeling slightly crampy and I couldn’t go back to sleep because the crampy feeling kept coming back and going away and coming back and going away. They were really sporadic (they’d come every 7-12 minutes or so and would last maybe 20 seconds at first), so I just told myself that it was probably just false labor. They didn’t really hurt at first for awhile–they were kind of like mild menstrual cramps. I just went about the rest of my day–took a walk, cleaned, etc. By around 5pm that day when we were out to dinner with some friends here, the contractions started to hurt, and they were about 5-7 minutes apart and lasting a little bit longer… but I was still kind of in denial because I didn’t want to get my hopes up. As the night went on, the contractions got longer, stronger, and closer together… and I couldn’t sleep at all because of the contractions, and by the middle of the night, it got to the point where the contractions hurt so much that I was pretty much crouching to the ground in pain every time they came, and they were about 3-5 minutes apart and lasting a minute at that point. We got to the hospital at like 5am, and I was admitted at around 6am (they do this triage thing first to make sure you’re really in labor). By 9am (at about 27 hours into the labor and when I was at about 6cm dilated), I really couldn’t take the pain anymore and burst into tears every time a contraction would come… so I caved in and asked for an epidural. One of the reasons why I originally didn’t want an epidural was because I was afraid that it would stall the labor… but thank God, my labor seemed to progress just fine and pretty quickly even after I got the epidural. A few hours later, I was able to start pushing (my epidural was wearing off by the time I was pushing, so it started hurting again, but I think you need to be able to feel in order to push effectively) and I think I pushed for maybe 2 hours. After about 36 hours of labor (thirty. six. hours.!), Isabelle was born at 3:01pm. They gave her to me to hold right after she was born, and it was absolutely amazing to finally see this little person that you created gazing up at you and blinking and moving around.
No words can adequately describe.
No words.
As for my birth plan, I was able to stick to it in that I had a regular birth (non-csection and without any instruments i.e. forceps or vaccuum, which is a big thing I was afraid of), BUT I ended up caving in and getting the epidural after 27 hours of labor. From the first contraction up until I delivered took 36 hours. I woke up in the middle of the night (like 3:30am) on the day of 39 weeks feeling slightly crampy and I couldn’t go back to sleep because the crampy feeling kept coming back and going away and coming back and going away. They were really sporadic (they’d come every 7-12 minutes or so and would last maybe 20 seconds at first), so I just told myself that it was probably just false labor. They didn’t really hurt at first for awhile–they were kind of like mild menstrual cramps. I just went about the rest of my day–took a walk, cleaned, etc. By around 5pm that day when we were out to dinner with some friends here, the contractions started to hurt, and they were about 5-7 minutes apart and lasting a little bit longer… but I was still kind of in denial because I didn’t want to get my hopes up. As the night went on, the contractions got longer, stronger, and closer together… and I couldn’t sleep at all because of the contractions, and by the middle of the night, it got to the point where the contractions hurt so much that I was pretty much crouching to the ground in pain every time they came, and they were about 3-5 minutes apart and lasting a minute at that point. We got to the hospital at like 5am, and I was admitted at around 6am (they do this triage thing first to make sure you’re really in labor). By 9am (at about 27 hours into the labor and when I was at about 6cm dilated), I really couldn’t take the pain anymore and burst into tears every time a contraction would come… so I caved in and asked for an epidural. One of the reasons why I originally didn’t want an epidural was because I was afraid that it would stall the labor… but thank God, my labor seemed to progress just fine and pretty quickly even after I got the epidural. A few hours later, I was able to start pushing (my epidural was wearing off by the time I was pushing, so it started hurting again, but I think you need to be able to feel in order to push effectively) and I think I pushed for maybe 2 hours. After about 36 hours of labor (thirty. six. hours.!), Isabelle was born at 3:01pm. They gave her to me to hold right after she was born, and it was absolutely amazing to finally see this little person that you created gazing up at you and blinking and moving around.
No words can adequately describe.
No words.
the beginning
I had every intention of doing a pregnancy blog back when I was pregnant. I really did. But it never happened. So instead, now, nearly a year after Isabelle was born, I’m starting this mommy blog. And what more appropriate way to start things off than to rewind a bit and talk about how it all started.
Yes, Isabelle was planned. And we somehow hit the jackpot on the first try, as evidenced by the two pink lines that showed up on the My First Response stick 2 weeks later. I remember the night I took that test. It was right after we decorated our Christmas tree. What a way to start off the holiday season. The next day, I took another test, just for good measure. Two pink lines again. About a week or two later, we went to the doctor for the official test, and a few hours later, while in an Abercrombie & Fitch store, I got the call that confirmed it. It was for real.
I got morning sickness the day I hit 6 weeks. It might as well have been called “all-day sickness” though. I seriously felt as though I had a horrible hangover all day and all night for three weeks straight. The only way I felt even remotely better was if I stuffed myself with food because I was somehow hungry all the time… yet ironically, almost all food made me want to hurl. I had also become a super smeller, and the smell of anything cooking, or even of the stovetop coils heating up made me want to puke. It was not a pleasant time. Luckily, I started feeling better at around 9 weeks.
At 12 weeks, we saw Isabelle via ultrasound and also heard her heartbeat for the first time. I remember tears welling up in my eyes.
At 22 weeks, after having to drink an insane amount of water and being forced to hold going to the bathroom for an inhumane amount of time before finally having the ultrasound, we found out that Isabelle was a girl!
As for hormonal episodes, I distinctly remember two. The first was that every time I saw this commercial (FYI, I was pregnant during the 2010 Winter Olympics), I’d have to fight to hold back the tears. Um. Yeah. The second was one day where I was really hungry and feeling crappy that I couldn't have any of the foods I wanted since they were on the pregnancy banned foods list, and I went to Husband to vent about it... but he promptly told me that he was busy (which he was--he was doing grad school work)... so I went to our bedroom by myself and cried. After a few minutes, Husband walked in and, genuinely concerned that I was crying, hugged me and asked what was wrong. I replied that I was really, really hungry and that he didn't even seem to care. He then proceeded to laugh. And then I started laughing, realizing how ridiculous I sounded. We then went out to eat. LOL
As for the infamous cravings that pregnant people are known for, there was one night where I really, really wanted lemon sorbet. Luckily, we were already out driving on our way home, so we just stopped by a grocery store. I never did make Husband get out of bed to go on 2 am runs to the store or anything like that. The one thing that I craved like mad all throughout my pregnancy was raw sushi, but I couldn’t indulge that one since it’s on the banned foods list for pregnant people.
Speaking of the banned foods list, that was probably the hardest part of being pregnant for me. So many of my fave foods were not allowed. For 9 whole months. It was like giving up not one, not two, but almost all of your favorite foods for Lent, and then instead of 40 days, it was 40 weeks…!!!!!!
At 32 weeks was our wonderful baby shower thrown for us by my parents and cousin, and then our maternity photoshoot taken by my talented buddy, Marvin. Here are two of my faves from that shoot:
At 34 weeks, we went on a little babymoon to Chicago–my first time ever visiting there.
At 39 weeks exactly, I went into labor–though I didn’t realize it for awhile. But we’ll save that story for next time.
Yes, Isabelle was planned. And we somehow hit the jackpot on the first try, as evidenced by the two pink lines that showed up on the My First Response stick 2 weeks later. I remember the night I took that test. It was right after we decorated our Christmas tree. What a way to start off the holiday season. The next day, I took another test, just for good measure. Two pink lines again. About a week or two later, we went to the doctor for the official test, and a few hours later, while in an Abercrombie & Fitch store, I got the call that confirmed it. It was for real.
I got morning sickness the day I hit 6 weeks. It might as well have been called “all-day sickness” though. I seriously felt as though I had a horrible hangover all day and all night for three weeks straight. The only way I felt even remotely better was if I stuffed myself with food because I was somehow hungry all the time… yet ironically, almost all food made me want to hurl. I had also become a super smeller, and the smell of anything cooking, or even of the stovetop coils heating up made me want to puke. It was not a pleasant time. Luckily, I started feeling better at around 9 weeks.
At 12 weeks, we saw Isabelle via ultrasound and also heard her heartbeat for the first time. I remember tears welling up in my eyes.
At 22 weeks, after having to drink an insane amount of water and being forced to hold going to the bathroom for an inhumane amount of time before finally having the ultrasound, we found out that Isabelle was a girl!
As for hormonal episodes, I distinctly remember two. The first was that every time I saw this commercial (FYI, I was pregnant during the 2010 Winter Olympics), I’d have to fight to hold back the tears. Um. Yeah. The second was one day where I was really hungry and feeling crappy that I couldn't have any of the foods I wanted since they were on the pregnancy banned foods list, and I went to Husband to vent about it... but he promptly told me that he was busy (which he was--he was doing grad school work)... so I went to our bedroom by myself and cried. After a few minutes, Husband walked in and, genuinely concerned that I was crying, hugged me and asked what was wrong. I replied that I was really, really hungry and that he didn't even seem to care. He then proceeded to laugh. And then I started laughing, realizing how ridiculous I sounded. We then went out to eat. LOL
As for the infamous cravings that pregnant people are known for, there was one night where I really, really wanted lemon sorbet. Luckily, we were already out driving on our way home, so we just stopped by a grocery store. I never did make Husband get out of bed to go on 2 am runs to the store or anything like that. The one thing that I craved like mad all throughout my pregnancy was raw sushi, but I couldn’t indulge that one since it’s on the banned foods list for pregnant people.
Speaking of the banned foods list, that was probably the hardest part of being pregnant for me. So many of my fave foods were not allowed. For 9 whole months. It was like giving up not one, not two, but almost all of your favorite foods for Lent, and then instead of 40 days, it was 40 weeks…!!!!!!
At 32 weeks was our wonderful baby shower thrown for us by my parents and cousin, and then our maternity photoshoot taken by my talented buddy, Marvin. Here are two of my faves from that shoot:
At 34 weeks, we went on a little babymoon to Chicago–my first time ever visiting there.
At 39 weeks exactly, I went into labor–though I didn’t realize it for awhile. But we’ll save that story for next time.
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