And then there were two....

WHEW!
It's been a while since I had the time to sit down and share some thoughts with you all. Heck, I don't even have the time right now! But I thought it necessary to hammer out my feelings into written form, because it feels so damn good to do it!
If you don't follow me on Facebook, you might be well overdue for an update on my life! Finn is now 13 months and 20 days old.. and Gabe is now TEN DAYS OLD! That's right, I did it again, I had a beautiful, bouncing baby boy. Okay, so he isn't bouncing yet. But give him time, he will be ;)
Yes, Gabriel John Thomas Ferguson was born on May 4th, 2014 at 9:47 am, via cesearean section, and he weighed in at a whopping 7lbs 4.8 ounces.. a mere ounce in the difference from his brother at birth. It was quite the day, I was so out of it, I actually threw up all over myself, like the class act that I am, as soon as I got back to my room from recovery. I didn't even feel like holding him, I just laid there in the bed and slept in and out most of the day, feeling like someone had run me over with a transfer truck. That feeling continued for about a week. In fact, the following Monday, after we got home from the hospital, I ended up with the flu. Then, 10 minutes later, Bobby got it. Yes, we do everything together, the dream couple. It wouldn't have been so bad, had Finn not been up, crying and miserable with a terrible cold (which later turned out to be an ear infection). So, here I was, covered in my own puke, stripping my bed, trying not to get it everywhere, with a towel wrapped around me. Fortunately, a friend was online at the time, and saw what was going on. She showed up at my door at 1am, made my bed with clean bedding, cleaned my floor, packed a bag for Finn, scooped him up and left. My angel on earth. I'm not even joking. The next day was a total blur, in and out of running to the bathroom, cleaning up puke (Bobby didn't make it to the bathroom a couple of times himself), and yes, nursing. I am DETERMINED to be successful at nursing this time around. I told myself that giving up was not an option, no matter what! I gave up too easily with Finn, and I regretted it completely. Spending $200 a month on formula, and dealing with all of the belly issues that come with it, is just not my cup of tea. That money would be better spent on other practical things.. like diapers, wine, coffee, toilet paper.. Oops.. did I say that out loud? Finally, Wednesday afternoon, we were finally able to get Finn back home, and I swear to God, he knew we were worn out. The child slept through the night for basically one of the rarest occasions. I was so relieved, because I knew that if he gave Bobby a rough time, I would hear about it, and I'm far to emotional these days to deal with the crankiness of a man. Thursday we took both babies to the doctor, Finn, in the end, did have an ear infection, and Gabe seemed to be okay at that point. However, by his visit the next day, he was having bouts of diarrhea, and seemed to be a bit dehydrated. Solution? Nurse more! For me, I wasn't really sure how that was possible, seeing how I have had him glued to my boob since day one. No joke! The child didn't spend time at the nursery! They would come and offer, and I wouldn't even oblige! I was so set on achieving my goal of being a breastfeeding mama, that I wasn't willing to let any time slip bye. His favorite place to be is curled up next to my boob. I guess it makes a good pillow. Oops, off track again.. back to the doctor.. yes, we left the doctors office on Friday with an appointment for MONDAY. However, I was informed that should anything continue, dry diapers, diarrhea, etc.. I was to go directly to the ER. So, after a long night of struggling to nurse, two runny diapers, no pees, and one heavily congested baby, I headed to the ER this morning. Naturally, I ended up with the biggest douchebag of all. He wrote down the names of two parenting books and suggested that I read them, and proceeded to tell me that I'm not nursing enough. Why thank you kind sir. I'm glad that you can decipher this by looking at my child and listening to his chest, all the while making comments on how babies must love to suck on their mothers breast. Oh yeah, that happened. So I left with a list for the library and a boogy sucker. Thanks doc. Now here we are, back at home. I have taken to telling myself the same thing that I told myself when Finn arrived, and he would do nothing but cry, all day long.. this too shall pass. One day, you will look back, and wish for those moments again. Well, that part is a lie. I don't miss those days when he cried all the time. To be honest, I am enjoying my sweet boy right now. He seems to have stepped into the big brother role. He has changed so much in 10 days! He is a different kid. Even being sick, he is so sweet. I cant even pick him up, and so he is spending extra time with daddy, snuggling on the couch, watching his favorite show, playing with his toys, and trying so hard to take more than just a few steps. Every time he lets go and toddles a bit, he looks at us, so proud of himself. I feel so overwhelmed. He keeps reminding me that these hard times in the beginning lead the way to such a delightful thing. I'm feeling so overwhelmed, yet so very blessed to have these beautiful beings in my life. <3

Crying & Nurturing.

Beware: If you do not have a child, you may find this content offensive, boring or completely irrelevant. 

Sleep-training. It sounds like natural process, right? You just decide one day that your baby is ready. You go through the nightly routine, and when 'bedtime' comes, put them in their crib, walk away and wait. Accurate, yes. Easy? NO friggin way! What ensues is insanity.. Crying. Followed by screaming. Followed by choking, gagging and yes, puke. Oh wait! That wasn't your experience? You put your baby in bed and they just fell asleep? Well, isnt that wonderful for you. But I'm sure that my exhausted friend, who is still struggling with her four year old at bedtime does NOT give a shit how successful you were. She just wants a few more hours of sleep, and her kid is just nooot there yet. So, this is my trouble. I have a 10 month old who does not appear to be able to put himself to sleep, nor does he appear able to stay asleep. It wouldnt be such a predicament if his little brother wasnt due to arrive in approximately 15 weeks.

As usual, I have been bombarded with suggestions on what to do. Many believe that letting a baby cry for a few minutes is perfectly healthy and will 'strengthen their lungs'. I on the hand, believe this theory is a complete and total crock of shit. Do I want my child to manipulate me until they are grown and ready to leave home? Hell no! So here is my dilemna. I would have no problem allowing an infant to cry for a little bit in hopes of soothing himself to sleep. But in our case, there is something bigger going on- teething. Yes, those little enamel-covered bastards are giving us all pure hell. I have exhausted myself looking solutions, but but nothing works! I've tried homepathic orajel, Camillia, Tylenol, Motrin, Advil, teething necklaces, teething rings, you name it. Nothing seems to help! We get a week to ten days of miserable nights, then it reaaally comes to a head. That night, when we are all at our wits end, he sleeps a longer stretch. I strongly believe that this is the reason that I cant justify letting him cry it out. Having said all that, I have decided that when baby number 2 arrives, I am going to attempt a few different approaches when it comes to sleeping habits. No bedsharing if at all possible! Also, no rocking baby to sleep. Putting him down while he is sleepy, but not asleep. This way, maybe I might have a shot at getting him back to sleep in leas than 2 hours. None of this desperate rocking for hours on end. Now I know what you're thinking, babies are babies. They need to be rocked, they need to feel loved. Well, chances are, if you are thinking this, you don't have a child of your own. Most mothers would agree, we are at our best when we are not desperately tired. Our bodies cannot produce the milk that we need to nurture these bundles of joy without some form of sleep. That in itself if love in the truest form. 

10 truths about being a Mom

Happy to have gotten the gloom and doom out of the way in that last post. Now that I have gotten that off my chest, time to move on!
So, I am now the mother of a nine month old baby! NINE MONTHS! Where the hell was I while the time was flying by? I'll tell you where I was for most of it.. in a zombie-like, new, and clueless mom stupor. Don't get me wrong, I have some great memories of the past nine months with my little Finnley. But let me tell you, I have spent a lot of tired days. I was sitting here just thinking and reflecting on my time thus far as a Mamma. I have come up with a list of things that I wish that SOMEONE would have told me about being a mother. Now, please keep in mind that this list applies to me, and may not apply to all of you Moms out there. Also, if you don't agree with the things I have listed, or have a different (not better) way of doing things, power to you. This is what has worked for me.

1) Your body will adapt to sleep deprivation, because your child will not magically start sleeping through the night one day.
2) Your kid isn't going to follow some perfect timeline of development, and that's okay.
To elaborate.. I have driven myself crazy trying to keep. But at one point, I just accepted that my kid is going to sit up, crawl and sleep when he wants. Trust me, once they start crawling, they don't slow down!
3) You will become extremely pissed off when other mothers try to convince you that their way is the right way. THIS drives me crazy. I know it's inevitable that we, as mothers will share our tips. But there is always that mother out there who has to reply to EVERYTHING with 'Oh, I would never do that', or 'Oh, my baby doesn't need that'. Good for you, glad it works for you, but it doesn't work for everyone.
4) You will be extremely when women who don't even have children try to suggest how you should care for your child. This is more than likely my number one issue. If you have not birthed or raised a child, you don't get to comment. I don't care if you have a degree, or you are the master of Google, shut up! If you haven't been through it, how could you possibly understand? Just because you 5th cousin twice removed told you a couple of stories about her motherly experience, does not make you a pro. It does not put you in a position to offer me advice on breastfeeding. By all means, feel free to play the superior card and tell me that 'when you have a child, you're going to do it this way'. Yes, and I sincerely hope that works out for you. But try no to be too devastated if things don't work out according to plan. If there is anything that I have learned in the past 18+ months of being a mother (in and out of womb), it's this.. you can't plan the outcome. IT JUST HAPPENS!
5) You really will lose friends. It's true. I know this sounds depressing, and if you haven't yet had a baby.. I'm sorry to be blunt. Okay, I'll reword it, for your sake.. you will find out who your true friends are. But what's more is that a lot of people will start to annoy you. They will get awkward, and make excuses about coming around.. 'Oh, I'm sick', 'I didn't want to bother you', or 'I didn't think you would want to do that'. What they want to say is, 'I'm not willing to adapt to your new lifestyle, so I'm not going to make the effort'.
6) You bought WAY too many cutsie outfits and not nearly enough sleepers. I made this mistake. In every group of sizes from newborn up, I have a surplus of clothing that never even graced my childs back. Why, you ask? It wasn't practical. None of it. Seriously, jeans on little babies? Nice for about two seconds, take a picture, then take that crap off! Especially now that he is crawling. The way that they make baby jeans, they are just aren't meant for crawling, or playing, or basically any baby-like activity.
7) You'll likely rarely ever nap when your baby naps. For the first while, it's great, and you sleep when you can, and you're in survival mode. You're eating all those freezer meals that you so keenly prepared ahead of time, back when you HAD time. But eventually, the novelty will wear off, and you'll realize that your house won't clean itself, and meals need to be made, laundry needs to be done, and you need to have some time to yourself. So you'll start skipping those naps, and before you know it, they will be a distant memory. I napped when baby napped for the first few weeks, and then eventually, reality kicked in for me. Now that I'm 22 weeks pregnant with baby number 2, and have a very active nine-month old, I tend to nap when Finn naps from time to time. But even still, this is a rare occasion, and most of the time, I skip it in favour of cleaning my house, or preparing a meal.
8) You will cave in, and your child will watch tv. But that doesn't mean the tv is a baby-sitter, it just means that you have found a way to buy yourself a few moments to accomplish something. I had a hard time with this one, but at some point, you have to accept that what works, works. So if putting my son in his swing, with Toopy & Binoo to entertain him, is somehow wrong... then I don't want to be right. This is how I have managed to quickly prepare meals, or at least get them into my slowcooker.. which is the lead-in to the next truth in my life.
9) You should.. or will invest in a slowcooker. If you don't already have one, BUY ONE! My slowcooker has saved me, sooo many times! This fabulous invention has allowed me to care for my baby all day long, and still have a homecooked meal ready for my partner by suppertime!
10) Your child will surprise you, at every turn. I can't specify one particular example of this. All I can say is this.. one night, he might sleep through the night, have a fantastic day, hardly sulk at all. Then, BOOM, the next day might be pure hell. What do you do? You pull up your socks, and you get through it. If all else fails, there's coffee, coffee will never fail you.

So, those are my 10. Maybe not the only things that I wish I had know. But I wish someone had been honest enough to tell me this stuff! Seriously, here I was, pinning away my baby's first year, completely unaware that my world was about to be rocked.....

A long hard year

Well, 2014, here you are. A new year, new goals and a new outlook. At least I think that's what you're supposed to say. The reality is that to me, it's another day, sure the year is technically different. But don't get me wrong! I'm not under any false illusions that life magically gets better because the year changes. Call me a pessimist, call me a realist, I know the truth, and I have accepted it. If you want to change something, you have to do it yourself, no one else is going to do it for you.
So it's been a few months since I last wrote, and I have had a lot to say. In fact, I think that may be the reason why I have kept quiet. I have sat down so many times and started writing out my feelings. But every time that I go to press 'Publish', something stops me. I'm not sure what has changed in me, maybe I am growing up, or maybe I am becoming softer (as if that was even possible). I think it's the latter of the two. I am no longer able to subject myself to the same opinions that at one time I could handle. It's been a very hard year. Honestly, it's left me somewhat damaged, and very weary of people. We, as a family, have not had the best of luck in any area of life this year, and I feel worn from it. I know people tell you that you shouldn't care what others think. Or that you should stand strong and move on. But sometimes, it's not as simple as moving on. Sometimes, you just have to say enough is enough. I have spent the past few months deleting people from my life. When I say delete, I truly do mean 'deleting'. I have cut myself off in every way from anyone I feel is poisonous. I continue to do so whenever I must. It's been hard, and it hasn't come without consequence. I have become a different version of myself because of what we have been through. I am no longer the same woman. I feel on edge, I feel rushed, even panicked sometimes. I break out into a sweat at the checkout in the grocery store. I used to love interacting with others, but now, I find it more terrifying than public speaking was back my 4-H days. I'm not sure what has specifically caused this change in me. I think it is a collective influence of all of the negative experiences that I have gone through in this past year. But I can tell you that I hardly recognize myself anymore. I used to be the one who lashed out, who defended, who spoke their mind, no matter what the cost. Now, I don't want to be that person, I hate that person. That person had the attention, negative or not. I want to be the one that blends in, and is unnoticed. That person is safe from judgement, she is not in the spotlight. She doesn't feel the pressures or the shame.
I am certain that many people who have been following me will wonder where this change has come from. Those who actually know me will have even more questions. But those who have been there this past year, will understand. To get into the specifics of everything that has gone on in this past year would either leave you bored stiff, or leave you speechless. For me to sit down and rehash the whole thing, and expose my life would be too much for me.
I haven't made any resolutions for myself this year, I haven't set any goals. I have, however, decided that I will continue to make the decisions that work best for my family. No matter how difficult they may be. Like I said, this has been a hard year. More difficult than I could have ever imagined. I have experienced the cruelty that this world can hold, and I have been scarred from it. I have seen evil forces at work, and I am wounded from their actions. I have questioned my faith in people, and how they can hurt one another how they do. I have seen that people have no limits when it comes to what they will do. But I have also seen that there is good in this world. I have been shown kindness that I will never forget. Having said that, I am going to try my very hardest to look for the kindness that I hope the world still has to offer. My only mission this year is to rebuild my own faith in this world, and to look for kindness and offer it whenever I can.

Today is today.. and tomorrow is another today.

So, I'm going jump right into my latest battle. Losing this post-pregnancy weight. During my pregnancy, as most of you know, I gained roughly 100 pounds. I was somewhat conscious of what I ate, but I was pathetic in the exercising department. Not even three months before I learned that I was 'with child', I was on  a mission to lead a healthy, active lifestyle. Then, BOOM, dropped the ball, big time. I guess my partner didn't really help my cause. He was encouraging me to eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I wasn't eating a LOT, I was making poor choices. But then again, for some reason, my intense morning sickness, incessant throwing up, and the thought of food making me gag, should have helped me with my growing bulge. Buuut, my sick self didn't want to eat a carrot, I reached for packets of that horrible, salty Lipton soup. I had no energy to cook, so my boyfriend would bring home food, from just about anywhere, none of it healthy. So, by the time I was ready to give birth, my weight was teetering around 278 pounds. I was exhausted, sore, and impossible to be around. Who wants to carry around an extra 100 pounds! I wasn't used to it.
Well, within the first 10 days of giving birth, almost 50 pounds dropped off of me (mostly in fluid). Then, I found myself in a plateau. Five months later, I'm still here, hanging out in the plateau. Let me tell you, I'm about to lose it! I have been trying to watch what I eat. But with a baby that demands me attention ALL day long, and gives me very little time to shower or even use the bathroom, much less cut up veggies for a salad, I am at a loss for ideas. We try to go for walks every evening. But I know it's not enough. I have back fat that touches. Yes, I know you don't need to know this, but it's quite the issue for me. My back kills me, because my stomach muscles are still not working themselves back what they were post c-section. I have NO clothing that fit me! I rotate between black spandex capris, black jogging pants, black yoga pants, and  pair of black elastic waisted shorts. I got away with dresses for most of the summer. But now Fall is approaching, and my size has not decreased. My sweater are all tight in the sleeves, and my pants are all tight in the legs. Lets not even discuss my waist. I'm eating healthier than I was even during my pregnancy, and still, no change. I accept that it takes time to regain you pre-pregnancy size, and that it may never actually happen. But it sure would be nice to be able to fit my arms into a sweater.
So, this has turned into more of a rant than anything. But today, I feel like ranting. I'm tired, sweaty, fat and kind of sad. Today is a crap day. Here's to hoping tomorrow is better.

Flashback

My baby boy will be 20 weeks old tomorrow. So hard to believe! It's been a long, challenging and AMAZING year. I look back every day in amazement at everything that we have overcome and accomplished in this past year. I think back to this time last year, when I was terrified, newly pregnant, and so completely unsure of what the future held. As I look down at my little boy these days, I think back to one very specific day. I was sick, tired, and stressed about being pregnant. My hormones were attacking in a major way, like they do to most women when they first become pregnant. With the levels changing so quickly, I was easily tired, and feeling just 'off'. That particular day, I lay in bed, home alone, crying and worrying. I was scared that maybe I wasn't going to be able to do it. Maybe I didn't want to be a Mom. I hadn't planned for this, it came up on me, and scared the hell out of me. I had no chance to process or absorb it. It had just happened, and everyone was so overjoyed that I actually obligated to be the same. But I wasn't. So I called my Mom, and I let it out, every emotion I was feeling. I didn't know if I could do it, and I didn't know if I wanted to have this baby. She didn't know what to say to me. She knows me better than anyone. But here I am, saying all of this to a woman who changed her entire life plans to have me. I was a surprise to her, as much as Finn was to me. She and I my Dad barely knew each other, but someone made everything fall into place to give me the life they felt I deserved. She was much younger than I was, and she faced it all with the bravest face. I wasn't there to witness this, but I know my mother, and I wouldn't expect any less from her. To my surprise, she didn't attack me, she didn't tell me I was wrong. She told me that it was my choice, it was up to me. She said it was my body and my life, and that no one could tell me I was ready, or that I could do it, or should do it. She didn't say, 'well, you have to deal with the consequences'. But, I knew from the reaction on the day that I told her and my father, that she was overjoyed and eagerly anticipating the arrival of her grandbaby. I knew she loved him or her already. But I still didn't know how I felt. I got off the phone, and I lay there, deep in thought. I desperately needed something, perspective, a slap in the face, or a sign. I thought about my current situation, how my life had changed so quickly. How Bobby and I had just moved in together not more than a month before this. I wished for someone to tell me what to do. Someone to tell me what was right. I needed to know that I was going to be okay, no matter what. Then, as I have often done in the past couple of years, I thought of my grandmother. It hadn't even been a year since I had lost her to cancer. I thought about those long hours spent with her in the hospital, watching the life slip out of her, gradually and painfully. I wondered what she would think of this. I knew she would be so happy. I could picture the look on her face, knowing that she would be a great grand-mother. I knew she would be over the moon. Just knowing that she wouldn't be able to experience that joy broke my heart even more. But it also gave me the perspective, and maybe even the sign I was looking for. I have always believed that when a loved one is taken from you, God gives you someone else, he gives new life to you. Maybe this baby growing inside of me was that gift? A gift from Grammy, to me, and to my family. Maybe this little baby would put a smile back on my Mom's face, after a year of heartache. Maybe it would help mends broken fences in my family. Maybe it would show me how to care for someone more than myself. So I convinced myself, on that day, in my bedroom, with the help of Grammy, that I would become a mother.
Just thinking back to that day, breaks my heart, but it also gives me strength. I'm so grateful that I took a chance on myself, that I trusted myself and made the right decision for me. I was scared, terrified even. I hadn't planned to be a Mom. I was scared to death of pregnancy, of labour, of gaining weight. I hadn't even considered what would happen after the baby got here and I had to raise it! Now here I am, a year later, with my sweet boy napping quietly just a few feet away. I couldn't be happier. My life is complete now, he is my purpose, my reason to get up in the morning, he gave me new life. He helped me put myself back together again, and he showed me what is to love someone more than you love yourself.
So thank you, Grammy. Thank you for showing me the way to that kind of love. Thank you for watching over us during these hard times, and giving me the strength to face each day. If not for me, for my beautiful son, who completes me.

12

Well hello there, it's been a while! In fact, the last time we talked, I was 9 days post-partum, and still in heavy duty recovery mode. Well, a lot has changed since then. For starters, Mister Finn is now 12 weeks and 2 days old. Hard to believe how fast the time flies when you have a baby! I was warned by everyone to enjoy my pregnancy, and then enjoy every little moment after they are born, because every moment is fleeting. Truer words have never been spoken. My heart breaks when I think about how quickly the past 12 weeks have gone by. Bobby and I are now adjusted to running on very little sleeps. Finn has given us a few breaks here and there by sleeping for 6 -7 hours at a time. But just when we think he might be skipping his mid-night feeding he throws us off course and wakes up for it. Last night, after 4 or 5 consecutive nights of skipping a feeding, he decided to mess himself up completely. After an hour of crying and screaming (brought to you by colic), he finally crashed at 8:30, and knowing he had a feeding at 9:30, I was in a panic, and not sure what to do. Bobby convinced me to put him down for a little sleep if he was willing to sleep, so we could have some quiet time. So I put him down, and decided to lay down and rest my back as well. He slept for the entire hour until his feeding, and I made the decision to wake him up for his feeding, hoping he would stick to his usual schedule of feeding around 9:30 or 10, and falling asleep by 11, and then not waking up until about 5:30. Not a chance! He did go right back to sleep, but he was awake again at 1am, and didn't go back to sleep until 3. Bobby had to  He was awake off and on to the point that I (sigh) took him in bed with me. He slept with me on and off, between sulking until 7. We've been up for the day ever since!
So there is a typical night of sleep at the Jack/Ferguson house. Fortunately, Bobby is landing his lobster gear today, and I will finally have the ability to sleep, or at least stay in bed for a feeding here and there for a while. We made the agreement that one he was done of fishing, we would take turns getting up for the feedings at night. Neither of us is usually able to sleep through the feeding, even if the other one has the baby, but it will be nice to not have to be the one to get out of bed to prepare the bottle. So yes, you read that correctly, I am not nursing. I'm sure the members of the La Leche group are shitting their pants in a raging fury at reading this. Is it just me, or is there this huge network at crazy women out there who literally try to shove nursing down your throat? As soon as you get pregnant, you get bombarded by women (and sometimes men) asking you, 'are you going to nurse?' 'it's SO good for the baby!' Yes, yes, I know it's good for the baby, but my cracked nipples, and aching back and stained bras feel like a good formula will do the same thing. Don't get me wrong, I tried my hardest, there was sweat and tears, from both myself and Finn. But after six weeks, I had to say enough is enough. Finn has now gone through three different formulas, and the third was a charm. He is adjusting well, seems happy (aside from the colic). I also enjoy that Bobby can help me with the feedings, and I have been able to have family take him (even for the night!) so that I can go fishing with Bobby a couple times a week. I'm sure nursing is everything people say it is, but it just wasn't for me, or Finn.
I wish I could share a bit more, but this blog is interuppted by the squeals of my sweet babe! Hold onto your hats! Ill be back!