Thursday
I can't take it anymore.
I cannot take such a sensitive part of my body and put it into a child that only wants to chew on it.
My boobs are on strike.
They quit.
They packed their things and flipped me the bird on their way out.
So I begin pumping. Not only to relieve the pain, but to hopefully help increase my production. I am forced to use a bottle, as my boobs are in the process of hiring a lawyer. However, the baby wants nothing to do with a bottle. He will take it in his mouth, then spit it out.
Great.
As a result, he sleeps only about an hour at a time. I don't get to sleep till 3am and that only lasts 3 hours till the toddler starts crying and wakes me up.
My mother is here and usually gets up with Monkey, but she was forced to put earplugs in (thanks to Hubby yelling at his video game at 1 in the morning) so she did not hear him wake up.
Another great.
I wake up my mother, dump my toddler in her arms, and head back to bed.
Four hours later, I feel much better. Peanut is still asleep, of course. Why would he want to wake up during the day? That's just crazy! Doesn't everyone sleep all day and play all night?
*facepalm*
He can't sleep all day though, as he has a checkup with his pediatrician. So me and mom get everything together, grab the sleeping baby, and head to town.
Doc tells us that Peanut's heart sounds the same, which is good that it's not getting worse. He has not seen the echo so he cannot say for sure what is wrong. Peanut's jaundice levels are quite high, though, so he sends us to the lab for him to get tested again.
I hide in a corner as they poke Peanut for blood.
He screams.
I silently die a little.
His levels are still really high, so he asks us to have the baby tested again the next day.
Yay, something to look forward to. Not to mention we have ANOTHER appointment back in Beckley to talk to a Pediatric Cardiologist. He will run an echo himself and look at the results. He will be able to tell us what is wrong with Peanut.
On a little good note, I finally get my staples taken out. *Relief!* Those buggers would tug every time I would try to change positions at night, or sometimes my underwear would snag and *TUG*.
Ouch.
After spending hours at the doctors office, it's a relief to head home. We have a pretty easy afternoon.
Around 7 that evening, members from our church show up to anoint the baby with oil. I'm not sure exactly what it means (shows how often I go to church), but in a spiritual way it makes me feel better. They touch oil to his forehead and pray over him for healing and strength. The power of the moment combined with all my motherly emotions means I start crying.
I cry because I feel so helpless for my baby. My child, that I carried for 9 months, who I felt move inside me and tickle my ribs with his hiccups.
I cry for the weight of the unknown on my shoulders.
I cry for the pain and confusion I'm feeling.
I cry for my baby.
I have decided that I want to start, regularly, putting Monkey to bed. I want to establish some kind of routine since his little brother will taking so much of my attention. I don't want him to feel left out in any way. I know, already, that he feels something has changed. There are moments when he wants to be held, and as soon as I pick him up, Peanut wakes up. So I know he feels the change. I just want him to know that I have not forgotten him. I love that kid so stinking much, he has no idea.
I spend time with Monkey in his room, playing with his toys with him. I then put him to bed, then head to bed myself.
I fall asleep worrying about what the next day will bring.
I can't take it anymore.
I cannot take such a sensitive part of my body and put it into a child that only wants to chew on it.
My boobs are on strike.
They quit.
They packed their things and flipped me the bird on their way out.
So I begin pumping. Not only to relieve the pain, but to hopefully help increase my production. I am forced to use a bottle, as my boobs are in the process of hiring a lawyer. However, the baby wants nothing to do with a bottle. He will take it in his mouth, then spit it out.
Great.
As a result, he sleeps only about an hour at a time. I don't get to sleep till 3am and that only lasts 3 hours till the toddler starts crying and wakes me up.
My mother is here and usually gets up with Monkey, but she was forced to put earplugs in (thanks to Hubby yelling at his video game at 1 in the morning) so she did not hear him wake up.
Another great.
I wake up my mother, dump my toddler in her arms, and head back to bed.
Four hours later, I feel much better. Peanut is still asleep, of course. Why would he want to wake up during the day? That's just crazy! Doesn't everyone sleep all day and play all night?
*facepalm*
He can't sleep all day though, as he has a checkup with his pediatrician. So me and mom get everything together, grab the sleeping baby, and head to town.
Doc tells us that Peanut's heart sounds the same, which is good that it's not getting worse. He has not seen the echo so he cannot say for sure what is wrong. Peanut's jaundice levels are quite high, though, so he sends us to the lab for him to get tested again.
I hide in a corner as they poke Peanut for blood.
He screams.
I silently die a little.
His levels are still really high, so he asks us to have the baby tested again the next day.
Yay, something to look forward to. Not to mention we have ANOTHER appointment back in Beckley to talk to a Pediatric Cardiologist. He will run an echo himself and look at the results. He will be able to tell us what is wrong with Peanut.
On a little good note, I finally get my staples taken out. *Relief!* Those buggers would tug every time I would try to change positions at night, or sometimes my underwear would snag and *TUG*.
Ouch.
After spending hours at the doctors office, it's a relief to head home. We have a pretty easy afternoon.
Around 7 that evening, members from our church show up to anoint the baby with oil. I'm not sure exactly what it means (shows how often I go to church), but in a spiritual way it makes me feel better. They touch oil to his forehead and pray over him for healing and strength. The power of the moment combined with all my motherly emotions means I start crying.
I cry because I feel so helpless for my baby. My child, that I carried for 9 months, who I felt move inside me and tickle my ribs with his hiccups.
I cry for the weight of the unknown on my shoulders.
I cry for the pain and confusion I'm feeling.
I cry for my baby.
I have decided that I want to start, regularly, putting Monkey to bed. I want to establish some kind of routine since his little brother will taking so much of my attention. I don't want him to feel left out in any way. I know, already, that he feels something has changed. There are moments when he wants to be held, and as soon as I pick him up, Peanut wakes up. So I know he feels the change. I just want him to know that I have not forgotten him. I love that kid so stinking much, he has no idea.
I spend time with Monkey in his room, playing with his toys with him. I then put him to bed, then head to bed myself.
I fall asleep worrying about what the next day will bring.
