Happy (Early) Birthday Baby Brayden


Today our family had a very scary and unexpected surprise—my sister had her baby!  Technically Baby Brayden wasn’t due until March 1st but his HR dropped and his movements stopped so they did an emergency C-section this afternoon.  One minute we were talking about how the doctors were thinking she might need to deliver in the next 24-48 hours (which was very scary) to them wheeling her to the O.R. in a mad rush.  The next thing we knew…Baby Brayden was here! 

He is 8 weeks early and  4lbs 2oz.  When we FINALLY got to see him it was such a relief.  He’s tiny (although, not as little as I was expecting when I went into the NICU.) I could have stood there for hours and hours just holding his minature hand–I know he is too little to really understand but by the way he was gripping my finger—I know he could tell we were there.  We (everyone but my sister) were lucky enough to go right back after the doctors came and explained his current situation but Juls had to spend a couple hours in recover first.  I can’t imagine how hard and how scared she must have been waiting to finally see the life she spent months creating.  I think finally seeing the Little One helped calm her heart and I hope she gets to spend a little time with him tonight before she goes to sleep…if sleep is even possible.    

Right now, he is still on a ventilator but the doctor says he is making leaps and bounds.  We will know so much more tomorrow after talking with the doctors.  All in all I would say Juls is holding up very well.  It seems so strange that my little sister is a Mother.  I am hoping and wishing for a quick recovery for both my sister and wonderful little nephew!!



Months 1, 2 and 3


Yeah, Yeah, I know I said I was going to update more and haven’t posted since then…I’m reliable like that these days! 

I have lots to report.  Baby Elizabeth has officially surpassed 3 months old!  She is growing leaps and bounds and is the most curious little thing!  She LOVES standing and sitting although she can’t do either by herself yet.  And her smile is the sweetest thing in the world.  I love walking into her room ever morning and seeing that smile.  I just know she is going to laugh any day now.  I have a feeling she’s going to have a very big personality and I can’t watch it come out.   Also, she started rolling over to her tummy but wasn’t able to get her arm out from underneath her UNTIL this week. Now she can totally get that tiny little arm out–if she wants it bad enough.  I’ve also been letting her Dad give her a few bottles here and there and I think he really appreciates the one on one time although, I’m usually pacing outside the door checking on them constantly.  AND she has spent the night at Granma and Granpa’s twice.  Once because the Hubs and I had an engagement party and once because I was super sick and off all day!

She took her first offical bath in the bathroom this month too:

I can’t remember if I posted her 1 and 2 month photos (I’m guessing probably not since blogging has fallen way behind my two favorite things 1) Staring at the baby and 2) Sanitizing.  So here they are:   

One Month:

Two Months:

 Three Months:  

Let’s not forget all her hair is falling out.  Mine too.  It’s unbelievable how much hair I can lose in one shower…thank you hormones.



I’m back…sort of


It is true.  I’ve pretty much stopped blogging the last couple months.  And the emails and questions about when I’m going to start again proves my lack of posts have not gone unnoticed.  But in my defense, have you seen Little Stuff?  Who has time to blog when they could be holding the best baby in the world?  Look at that face:

And this one:

What’s that?  You’ve read my Tweets about how the wee one sleeps through the night?  Oh, Ok.  Then, let’s just be honest  about my lack of blogging.  I’ve been a little bit torn on the content and direction I want to go.  See, having a baby makes you crazy hormonal and in my personal experience I have no business posting my crazy hormonal thoughts for the world to read.  Cause seriously, after you post something on the interwebs—it’s there forever.  And the things that have been on the forefront of my mind are not the types of things I want to post for my family, friends, and co-workers read. Or more importantly, the coworkers of my family and friends.  Some things are best kept to yourself…at least for now.

Also, since Little Stuff’s arrival I’m in crazy “get things done and organzied” mode.  And this blog is messy, unorganized, and I want to basically scratch the whole thing and start over.  If you could see the list of random tags/categories I have made and the 40 started but never finished post you would understand why the new OCD me wants to start over…also, I want a new layouot.  So, perhaps there will be a jillianranee.com facelift coming soon!  

In the meantime, I AM going to start posting baby updates again.  I can talk for hours and hours on the joys of motherhood and how much I love Little Stuff.  For instance, did you see my sweet little girl sitting in a bowl of candy on halloween:

I love how she could care less about how awesome it is to be sitting in an actual bowl of candy! 

Or the family photo we captured on Thanskgiving:

You want blog posts?  Well, you better prepare yourselves for baby overload!  



On The Crazies


So, in case you haven’t heard: Baby Elizabeth is here.  She arrived 3 weeks ago today.  When we found out we were having a baby I thought we would cook the little nugget for 9 months and then we would have a baby.   What I wasn’t planning on was the gianormous bag of crazy she brought with her.  In fact, I have no idea where she was keeping it but the moment she arrived I turned into one giant bag of uncontrollable crazy.  And by “crazy” I mean, a hormonal, neurotic germ-a-phobe with little to no patience with anyone that even thinks about touching, breathing, or even looking at our sweet girl without a clear go-ahead from me.  I’m embarrassed to admit that “anyone” sometimes even includes her dad (which I know is totally uncalled for since she is his baby too but sometimes I can’t help it.)  She’s my little girl.  It’s up to me to care for her, raise her, and just generally protect her from the world.  Coincidently, those three items (the caring, raising, and protecting) have managed to change me in ways I never thought possible:     

Chicken juice.  I never really gave chicken juice a second thought before; but now chicken juice is the devil.  Every time a piece of chicken makes it into our sink I see those green disgusting bacteria infected cartoons crawling all over our sink and consequently our sweet defenseless baby at bath time. 

Crumbs.  From the dogs or otherwise, send me over the edge.  I mean, what if our sweet baby happens to crawl through all those slobber covered dog food particles on the floor?  What’s that?  Yes, technically she is still immobile and probably won’t be crawling through the kitchen for months and months but who cares?  Let’s get this dog food problem rectified NOW! 

Laundry.  Let’s get it done!  In the past, I’ve H-A-T-E-D laundry.  I mean, really loathed washing, drying, hanging up, folding, and putting away clothes.  And the idea of spending money on a new set of clothes cleaners just seemed like the WORST.  IDEA.  EVER.  But today, our new washer and dryer were delivered and it feels like Christmas.  There is something about folding tiny baby socks and hanging up itsy bitsy onsies that make me feel like a mother.  And I love it. 

Driving.  I have turned into the defensive driver my Dad has probably always hoped for, cause seriously, we have precious cargo and if I happen to be 5 minutes late, what’s the worst thing to happen?  Our baby will totally arrive alive!  (Yes, I’m all kinds of dramatic these days!)  

Efficiency.  I used to do things…whenever I got around to it.  But now, if something needs to be done; I need to do it now.  (See above: “Laundry”) I need to clean up the sink, the dishes, the living room, the nursery.  If we need milk, I need to go NOW.  If the night light burns out I need to replace the bulb now.  I cannot close my eyes until it is done.  I find myself getting out of bed 10 times to do one more thing before we go to sleep.  The urgency is all consuming.   

And finally, the worst and probably the most uncontrollable: The Crying.  Not the “I’m sad and depressed” crying.  The “I cannot hold myself together because I freaking love this baby more than anything in the world” crying.  Some might call it hormones (and that may be true)  but I was never prepared for how emotional I would get every time I need to make a decision regarding her care, going back to work, leaving her for an evening (or even a few hours), the need to breastfeed or even how important it is for me to give her a bath every day.  A couple nights ago we put her to bed in her crib for the first time and I spent hours just watching the video monitor (tears streaming down my face) making sure she was still ok.  I was so relieved when it was time for her first feeding.  It just seems so lonely in there at night.  And hello, this Lisa Irwin (getting “stolen” out of her crib in the middle of the night) just layers on a whole new level of crazy.  I can’t imagine our sweet girl getting stolen out of her crib with us a mere 15 feet away.  Hence, the need to watch the baby monitor the entire time she is left alone in her room.  (I told you this post was about the crazies, not the logical.)

Hubs has been very patient especially when you consider how inflexible I’ve become.  There is no reasoning with me and if I had to guess I would say those are the moments Hubs thinks I’m the craziest.  I guess I’m just hoping he is fine with the new inflexible, neurotic, germ-a-phobe he’s living with because as long as we are responsible for this precious ball of sweetness I don’t see myself relaxing anytime soon!

Just look at that face:



I’m In Love…




Better Late Than Never


Well, she did it.  Or should I say we did it.  Baby Elizabeth made her debut last Tuesday (Sept 27th at 9:23 pm).  She was 9 days late.  When we went to our doctor’s appointment that morning he decided it was time, so I headed down to Labor and Delivery at 11am—fast forward 10 hours and 23 minutes later we have: 

Baby Elizabeth:

 

 A couple Proud Parents

 Look at that face:

One ecstatic Mommy:

I could ramble on for hours about how much I love this little bundle of joy.  The flood of emotions I feel when I look at her still brings me to tears.  I knew I was going to love her from the very begining but no one could have prepared me for the way your heart swells when you look at the life you created.  This is by far the most important thing I have ever done in my life.  I will post more on my labor and delivery a little later but for now here are some other proud people:

Daddy:

Grandpa:

 

Grandma:

Auntie:

And Daddy again:

 



I May Be The Mommy But I’m Definitely Not The Boss


 My due date came and went with very little fan fare.  Actually, now that I think about it, ”very little fan fare” is the understatement of the century.   It was just so anticlimactic.  No baby, no contractions, just more days of work and waiting for this little person to make her debut.  So, now, we’re just waiting in limbo.  

I went to the Dr on Tuesday and he basically said, “Let’s do an ultrasound and if everything looks good let’s give her another week.”  So, I went down, got my ultra sound and baby is looking good so she has free reign til next Tuesday when we will do another ultra sound to decide if she gets another week or is getting evicted early.  Obviously, I’m still hoping she comes out before my next appointment on Tuesday.

So, here we are 4 days after my due date and I have tried all the old wives tales: walking, sex, spicy foods, drinking cold water, and wearing myself out but nothing seems to be working.  I’m starting to think she is teaching a me a very early lesson in parenting; you know the one where I resign myself to just getting comfortable waiting—waiting on her to arrive, sleep, wake up, eat, pee, poop, ect ect ect. 

I think Baby Elizabeth is letting me know something very important; I may be the mommy but she is the boss!



On Why Would I Want The Baby Out?


This morning I received a note from one of my non parental friends about why am I so anxious to get The Wee One out.  Her exact words: “Isn’t your life so much quieter and convenient without that crying poop machine on the outside?”  I suppose the short answer to that particular question is:  yes, of course it’s “quieter” and “more convenient” to keep her on the inside but how dare you catorgorize Baby Elizabeth as nothing more than  a crying poop machine!  (Clearly my hormones have gotten the best of me.)  Which got me thinking about how I felt about pregnancy before I was actually pregnant and I realized—I knew very little.  (And I probably owe my friend an apology as I’m totally not the type of person who lashes out at people for not being in the same place in life) so I thought I would list a few things that I never thought about BEFORE I found myself in the throes of pregnancy: 

  • This baby is growing bigger by the day and the bigger the baby gets the less and less room there is for other things; like food and you know, my vital organs.
  • I want to meet this tiny person.  Sure, she might poop and cry but after you spend 9 months changing everything about your life and lifestyle to accommodate this tiny idea growing inside, the anticipation of meeting her is all consuming.   
  • I need to know what this baby LOOKS like–I’ve been envisioning her for 9 months.  I’m ready to see if she ended up with straight hair (please please let her have straight hair) or unruly curls that I will need some sort of tutorial on how to properly care.  I want to know what color her eyes are and if she will have my nose or daddy’s.  I mean, it’s amazing how much you can love something and not have any idea what she even LOOKS like….it’s unbelievable. 
  • I miss being able to do the simplest tasks.  Like picking up my underwear and being able to roll over in my sleep.  Somewhere around 30 weeks (or 7.5 months for all my non parental friends) I turned into a turtle and the simple act of rolling from my left to my right became impossible.  And since my arms usually fall completely asleep it normally takes a good 2-3 minutes to wake them up, then go to the bathroom, and then settle in on the other side.
  • At around 35 weeks (8.5 months) by belly started getting bigger than my body is consciously aware and I started bumping into people and things.  Hugs get more complicated and you just generally feel large and not so much in charge.
  • I’m ready to eat the stuff that I love.  Somehow Baby knows just the foods that make me happy and can ruin them without notice.  You like lemon cake?  Acid reflux so bad it will make you hurl.  Pork chops?  Oh, they taste like hot dogs.  Chinese food?  Don’t even think about it?  Meat on pizza?  Hello cold wash cloth wiping the puke off your face.  It’s the weirdest thing in the world…these pregnancy eating idiosyncrasies. 

The list could go on but I do have some work to do today so I will leave you with the primary point of this post:  Stop judging me.  I’m ready.  Let’s do this Baby Elizabeth!



On an Unexpected Shift


I have found myself surprised by a couple of things as this pregnancy draws closer and closer to the end. 

First, I’m not exactly sure when the acronym BF transitioned from boyfriend to breast feeding but I was reading an article the other day that used the abbreviation BF and I immediately thought breast feeding when in fact they were talking about boyfriends.  It definitely caught me off guard and I thought, “WOW.  My thought process has definitely shifted.” 

Secondly, when I first got pregnant I thought BFing was something I was going to try.  I was going to see ‘how it went’ and as long as Baby Elizabeth and I were both willing and able I would do it as long as possible (aka The Wing It Method.)  What I’m finding about myself now that The Wee One is almost here is that the need to breast feed has found it’s way to the top of things that I NEED to do.  Sure, I’ve heard it can difficult.  I’ve even heard it can be painful.  But isn’t Baby Elizabeth  worth the pain and hassle?  I think so.  So, my new plan is as follows: to promptly stop calling the lactation specialist at the hospital the “breastfeeding nazi,” spend as much time as she is willing to give soaking up all the BF knowledge she can provide.  Sure, up until now my lackadaisical attitude toward all things breastfeeding has been my primary platform to deflect any and all judgment to date but from now on I’m just going to own my new found desire to feed my baby the natural way.  (Not that I’m judging the moms that choose not to BF because I’m still of sound mind and body and I wholeheartedly believe everyone has a right to choose their path.  I’m just saying that for right now, the need to BF our baby has jumped to the top of MY priority list.

As with everything else in this pregnancy, I’m yet again shocked at how my thought processes have shifted; I haven’t attended any classes (especially the ones that brow beat the breastfeeding school of thought) or had anyone (that I care to hear from) push their beliefs on me–I’ve done my own research, read the books and the blogs, Googled, and finally resigned myself that as long as I can BF (or at very least  pump) I will.



On 39 Weeks


So it appears Baby Elizabeth is going to camp out until she is evicted…or so it feels.  When I had my doctor’s appointment last week he was shocked The Wee One was still cooking.  He was sure she would have made her move since I had been ‘thinning’ so quickly.  Unfortunately, we are embarking on yet another week of cooking the baby/working.   Sure, I’m technically only 39 weeks but something inside me (and the doc) said she would come early—which doesn’t appear to be the case…

In all honesty, I’ve really been fine.  Not too uncomfortable or miserable.  The 100 degree temperatures have subsided and all in all I’ve been holding up pretty well.  Everyone has been asking me when I’m taking off work and my standard response has been, “if I can work, I want to work.  I’m not wasting any time off before Baby arrives.”  But then this morning, I was standing in my closet trying to determine what I was going to wear to yet another week of work (another week I was planning on spending cuddling with our new addition) and I was trying to decide if I could get away with wearing yoga pants and at that moment a light bulb went off—THIS is why women take off early!  I’ve always been pretty good at getting dressed for work.  I like getting dressed up and being around people but today all I wanted to do was be comfy—not my usual self.  I opted for capris and a cute shirt but if Baby Elizabeth makes me work next week too; my co-workers might be seeing me in yoga pants….



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