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But I Get Up Again

by motheringmillieLeave a Comment on But I Get Up Again
But I Get Up Again

Maw yelled to the kids, “Stay off the rocks around the pond; they’re wobbly!”

On an unusually warm day in early March, Millie and Wells were playing on my grandmas patio. Wells was finding pebbles (Presumably putting them in his mouth. Once, he spit out four rocks into my hand.) and Millie was rearranging a fairy garden as I tidied up their things, preparing to leave for the day. We waved goodbye to Maw as I backed out of her carport. I called Chris to meet us at the park on his way home but not five minute later, I called him back to tell him that both kids fell asleep. Babies sleeping in car seats always look so scrunched.

Unbeknown to me, Maw decided to leaf blow her patio. Without following her own advice, “Stay off the rocks around the pond; they’re wobbly!”, she stood on the rocks to blow away fallen leaves. I received a phone call from my mom, “Don’t freak out.” Maw was on her way to the hospital.

While leaf blowing, Maw stood on a wobbly rock and fell onto her hip, precisely on the edge of her patio step. She turned herself onto to her stomach and army crawled back into the house where she contacted my uncle, trying to avoid an ambulance ride. While she waited for him to arrive, she crawled herself into the kitchen and ate a lemon cookie. Who’s grandma breaks their hip and struggles into the kitchen to curb her sweet tooth?!

My uncle did not feel like he could safely lift my grandmother so begrudgingly, Maw went to the hospital in a squad. I was desperate to be with her but due to COVID restrictions, only one person could accompany her during her stay. Maw refused pain medication. She was taken for an MRI where it was determined she had a fractured hip bone. The next day, she received a full hip replacement.

Thank God the surgery went well.

The next day, Maw went home to recover. I was in disbelief with how quickly she was discharged. Maw had two weeks of around the clock, family supervision. I stayed over one night, Wells came with me because I was still breastfeeding, and that helped to lift her spirits. It was difficult to see her in pain as she maneuvered her way on and off the bed. I ordered her a hip kit that had long levers to help her with her independence without having to bend at the waist. I also installed a toilet lift so she didn’t have to squat down to use the restroom. She had physical therapists come to her house and they were extremely kind. “Most seventy year olds haven’t left the bed yet and you’re getting around so well!”

As Maw was healing, she also felt guilty for leaving me without childcare. She watched both babes while Chris and I work and with this falling accident, she was out of commission for at least six weeks. I called thirteen child care facilities, desperate to find a reputable establishment that would accept my kids in the middle of the school year, and most could not accommodate both children. Finally, I found a school that could take both kids however, they were almost $3K a month – completely out of our budget.

We were incredibly blessed with beautiful people willing to help us during this stressful time. My friend Lindsey was available to watch the kids on her days off and my friend Shauna babysat the kids while she worked from my couch. My friend and co-worker Amy spoke to her in-home childcare provider who was able to watch my kids on Tuesdays and Thursdays. She was affordable, an easy commute, and had glowing recommendations from other teachers who trusted her care. She was reliable and kind. This was a God send.

A week into our new childcare schedule (Chris watched the kids while he worked from home on Monday and Friday, Tuesday and Thursday the kids went to Rhondas, and Wednesday was a wildcard.) we noticed bite marks on Wells. One on his arm and one on his foot. I noticed that the size of the bite mark was small but there were a lot of teeth. It was confirmed that a little girl with dwarfism was eating Wells up. We found out that she had done this to other kids before and with a new baby brother at home, she started biting again. Another bite happened on his belly and one on his leg. His parents were mortified. Wells learned to say, “No bite!” Which came out as, “O ite”. They actually became sweet friends.

Millie loved playing with the children all day. There were two girls her age; they’d put on tattoos, draw pictures, make necklaces, and put on singing performances like JoJo Siwa. Millie would help me pack their lunches the night before; picking out what fruits and vegetables she wanted included. For breakfast, I would put a pack of pop tarts in Millie’s lunch bag and it was her job to share one with Wells. Millie’s social interactions confirmed for me that she was ready for preschool in the fall (more on that in a later post).

Rhonda was so great with our Vegan lifestyle. If there was a birthday celebration, she would make sure there were dairy-free cupcakes for my kids. She gave every child an Easter basket and ours had vegan treats and thoughtful, personalized gifts. The kids noticed that others were eating chicken nuggets for lunch so Millie mentioned that they eat vegan “chicky nugs” at home. Rhonda bought them and kept them stocked in the freezer. It was extremely comforting knowing the sitter was accepting of our dietary needs.

Since starting childcare outside of our home, our family has never been more sick. Someone has had a snotty nose, sore throat, fever, goopy eyes – you name it, since March. We were in and out of doctors appointments every other week; amoxicillin for ear infections, two different eye drops, Tylenol Fever Reducer, Tylenol Cold and Cough. We had a fully stocked pharmacy in our medicine cabinet. Anytime I would try to plan something fun for us to do on the weekend, Millie would spike a fever and Wells would have snot hanging from his nose. We rotated viruses around the house. The germs from childcare were worse than my first year teaching (and I thought that was a kick to the immune system). I’m praying that Millie will have some antibodies to help her with the germs she’ll be around in pre-K.

Wells’ second birthday party was postponed – if we had the party on its scheduled date, it would have been the day Maw got home from surgery. A month after the party was originally supposed to be held, we threw Wells a shark themed birthday and Maw was there to help us celebrate. Maw didn’t let her hip keep her from the kids during the holidays. Millie and I went over to Maw’s house for Saint Patrick’s Day and we decorated shamrock cookies with green glitter and crafted a clover garland out of toilet paper rolls. For Easter, we went to Maw’s community celebration where the kids got to hunt for eggs and win door prizes. It was fun for the children but I was concerned about Maw getting hurt; she could have fallen down, gotten pushed over by a kid, tripped. etc. My anxiety was high.

Three months later and Maws hip healed. She was diligent with her therapy and put in the hard work to feel better. She has a gnarly scar. Her knee is giving her trouble but the hip surgeon mentioned that her knee locked up during the surgery – it could be something she gets work on down the road. She watched a video of a hip replacement on FaceBook and the force that was used to hammer the joint in place could have very well been what affected her knee. Wells will continue to need childcare in the fall and we will split the week between Maw and Rhonda. This will allow Maw to schedule appointments during the week and some much earned rest time after running after Wells.

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We Forget

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We Forget

I don’t know why our brains can’t remember the details of the good stuff. Actually, I do. I learned about it at a professional development meeting on trauma and stress. I hate staying late at work and being late to Millie, Wells, and Mawmaw. Alas, I did pick up one thing from the seemingly useless meeting; our brains remember the traumatic memories to best protect us and because our brain doesn’t need to protect us from the good stuff, it doesn’t retain it. What a load of crap.

Tonight’s good stuff is laying on the couch, way too late, on the Eve of a snow day. Wells is next to me, dream feeding, peacefully. His foot isn’t any bigger than my hand. His little body is so soft and squishable. I feel his legs and arms lay over mine. I listen to him breathe. I hold his hand and rub his back all while thinking about his future, who he will become, and how I fit in it. I pray over him and kiss him and tell him I love him.

As much as I want it to be, this blog post will never be the real thing. When I read this again, it’ll be because I’m missing my babies. I’m sad for future me. I’m sad because I know that I will want this time back. But for now, I sign off to live in the moment I have, no matter how fleeting it is, to hold my baby while he sleeps because my children are the greatest blessings of my entire life.

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Pandemic Parenting

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Pandemic Parenting

On March 3rd 2020, I delivered Wells with my husband, grandmother, father, and photographer in the room. If I would have had him on his due date, just two weeks later, I would have had to birth him alone. While we packed up our bags from our hospital stay, breaking news declared a mask mandate in Chicago and we feared Ohio would be next. We asked my nurse for masks; “I’m sorry, we are down to our last two boxes on this floor.” Chris immediately regret discarding his mask from labor and delivery.

My mom planned to stay with us for six weeks; helping with Millie and the housework while I focused on healing and bonding with Wells. Chris didn’t get any paternity leave so my moms help was a Godsend. A week after we came home from the hospital, the government shut down the state boarders around New York; my mom couldn’t stay with us indefinitely if Ohio chose to follow suit. Selfishly, I wanted my mom to stay and help but alas, my mom went back to Virginia.

Planning for this pregnancy, we knew that I would not get paid for the entirety of my maternity leave. My sick days accrue; if I work a month without taking a sick day, I earn a day of sick time. I had proudly saved twenty sick days which meant I would get two pay checks during my six-week maternity leave. After my sister passed in September of 2019, I used three weeks of my sick time, grieving her loss. On top of being pregnant and losing my sister, I was definitely stressed about the amount of unpaid leave I would have to take. Fortunately, I was able to borrow a weeks worth of sick time from myself so we would receive at least one paycheck during my six-week, maternity leave.

I had one sick day left to use when I got a phone call from a friend and fellow teacher that we were going to start teaching, virtually. Could I also work virtually (make money) while still on maternity leave? I was able to convince my OB that I could, “return” to work as long as work meant teaching from my couch. I fed Wells, Millie watched Mickey Mouse Club House, and I was posting music assignments at the same damn time. The pandemic allowed me to stay home for 21 weeks without a single, unpaid day.

As if new mothers aren’t paranoid enough, add a global pandemic to the mix. Thankfully, Chris’ company assigned his department to work from home so we weren’t getting germs from his job. Groceries were bought through delivery services and bags were sanitized at the door. Once Wells gained back his birth weight and was no longer jaundiced, we didn’t take him to another pediatric appointment until he was six months old. I should have gone to my six week OB appointment – I didn’t. I had a terrible, terrible pain in my right nipple from a latch issue – I didn’t receive outside help. My cousin unexpectedly passed away and we didn’t attend her funeral. I wasn’t comfortable breaking our “bubble”, so we stayed in.

Chris working from home turned out to be a blessing. He was able to hold Wells during his lunch hour and help change diapers between meetings. Wells definitely got more time with daddy due to the pandemic. I had planned on spending quality time watching Cubs baseball during my maternity leave, but the season was postponed and there was no baseball to be watched. We used this time at home to potty train Millie. She didn’t like feeling poop in her diaper so she would take the diaper off and the poo would get everywhere – it was time. We stripped her naked, packed away the diapers, gave her tons to drink throughout the day and constantly encouraged her to sit on the potty. We rewarded her, even if she sat on the toilet just to toot. We bought her cute undies with Frozen characters on them. We experienced more victories than accidents, but there were many accidents, especially when we would play outside. Within the month, she was completely potty trained.

The week before Wells was born, our realtor called wanting to show us a house that checked every box on our “wish list”. We dropped Millie off at my dads and I waddled through the open house. It was in a neighborhood with better schools, gave us a thousand more square feet, and had a fenced in backyard. Also, homes in our neighborhood were selling quickly at above asking price. The market was right, the house was perfect, but I was doubting how the timeline would work for us. The same day Wells was born, our offer on the house was accepted.

The worst part of selling our home during the pandemic was having to leave the house during showings; there was no where to go because everything was closed so we would load both kids in the Jeep and drive around, praying that no one entering our home was COVID positive. I would sit my postpartum butt between the two car seats and read to the kids while we ordered French fries through the Burger King drive through. The house inspectors and appraisers were weeks behind because of the shutdown. The contractors that installed our new floors had to break for two weeks because they had been in close contact with COVID-19.

All of our activity memberships expired; COSI, Franklin Park Conservatory, the Zoo. Zumbini went virtual and we tried classes through Zoom but Millie lost interest. She was getting stir crazy staying home; heck, I was too, so we would do at least one activity together everyday. It was nice to spend some one-on-one time with her because well, Wells. She loved when I would ask her to wash the dishes in the sink or when I’d let her scrub her toys. We made multi-colored foam in her water table. I taped shapes on the floor for her to organize her blocks. She loved to finger paint. We colored eggs for Easter. We became quite the bakers; she loved watching the baking competition shows and trying new recipes. We jumped in puddles on rainy afternoons and watched for, “sworms”. We would adventure in our yard where she found some fallen pine cones which she called, “coconuts”. If we were blessed with good weather, Chris would take Millie to the park across the street on his lunch break; until yellow caution tape was wrapped around the slides and the playground was off limits to promote social distancing.

The holidays were different, to say the least. We celebrated Palm Sunday by fanning around artificial leaf decorations left over from Millie’s second birthday and blowing bubbles in the back yard. Thankfully, I bought Easter gifts early because most stores were shut down. Church was virtual and we watched Easter service from my phone. Maw surprised us by decorating our tree in the front yard with eggs shaped like rabbits and ducks. She didn’t come in because she knew she’d want to hold the kids and she just couldn’t. (She had been in and out of the hospital after our cousin’s liver transplant and it just wasn’t safe to be around each other.) There was no Fourth of July parade and although we heard fireworks all through the night, we could not see any.

In November, Millie turned three and our governor had given clear instructions that no more than 10 people were allowed to gather together. Realizing I couldn’t throw Mill the birthday that I wanted for her, made me empathetic towards those who had to cancel their events due to the pandemic; weddings, trips, graduation parties, etc. It broke my heart to tell family members and friends that they could not come over to celebrate with us. So on Millie’s third birthday, my parents and the in-laws came over to celebrate and we FaceTimed others while she blew out her candles.

One very ordinary evening in December, Chris had a sore throat. Neither of us thought anything of it until he had chills throughout the night. He called our family doctor who then scheduled him to be tested for COVID. By the time of his test, he felt like he had been hit by a truck; even sitting was painful. Chris received a positive covid test and two days later, Wells and I had symptoms; body aches, fatigue, and a fever to follow. Wells slept the worst he ever had in his life. I could tell by his cry that he was in pain. Following suite, within the next two days, my grandmother who watches the kids during the week was symptomatic. Her and I both lost our taste and smell. Covid had infested our family.

Five days after Chris tested positive, Mill still had no signs of the virus. We were so impressed with her immune system! We must not have knocked on wood quick enough because without warning, my energetic fire ball was melting into the couch. Millie was lethargic and had a fever of 100.3. We called the pediatrician and she told us to give her children’s Tylenol and monitor her symptoms. We put her in the bath tub and encouraged fluids. Once the medicine was in her system, she was back to her normal self. You could tell when the medicine would start to wear off – she’d slow down, get rosy cheeks, and her eyes would gloss over. She took her medicine while I sang, “Just a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down.” Sweet girl didn’t fight it at all. Her symptoms lasted 48 hours.

The virus did not keep us from:

  • Worshipping the Lord
  • Celebrating birthdays
  • Going to VA
  • Playing in the snow (Millie makes the best snow angels)
  • Moving my grandma into a new condo
  • Making Christmas cookies and giving them to our neighbors
  • Sending Valentine’s cards
  • Going to the zoo
  • Dedicating Wells

Not everyone had our same comfort level for socialization during the pandemic. We were not fearful of a virus with a 98% survival rate, we had faith in our immune systems, and we agreed with Pastor Doyle when he spoke about togetherness. Unfortunately, many family members missed out on important birthdays, holidays, and other once in a lifetime events because of their own anxieties about safety. The thought process was, “I want to be around for the holidays that they’ll remember.” but no one can guarantee tomorrow. [Millie (3) and Wells (1) just because you might not remember this year, doesn’t make your experiences any less valuable. I’m blogging so that if one day you don’t remember, my words may be enough.]

“If you’re a pandemic baby and you’ve been in quarantine your whole life, you get overstimulated by everything ’cause all the strangers that you see have masks on, and you’ve never really had a playdate in your life.”

I worry about how much this year has affected our children. One year out of my thirty is nothing, but one year to my three year old? That’s a third of her life. Wells? His entire life. Children aren’t as resilient as we like to think, you know? Why do so many adults find themselves in therapy – childhood trauma. We have absolutely no idea the ramifications of living this closed off, pandemic life. Millie was supposed to start dance this year and Wells doesn’t know what it’s like to be around other children. I’m heartbroken and concerned for our children, this generation now labeled as, “Gen C”.

Crazy things about COVID:

  • This started during an election year.
  • People hoarded toilet paper and sold it for obscene amounts of money on the internet.
  • Your Great, Great Uncle Bobby, who is bedridden in a nursing home (suffers from strokes) survived the virus!
  • There were directional arrows on the floors of stores and MawMaw became the aisle police. Although, she told me if I needed to go down an aisle with an arrow facing the opposite direction, to just walk backwards and act like I “forgot” something.
  • Millie was told she had to wear a mask upon entering the Disney store.
  • People were also concerned about murder hornets (I’m still not positive about the murders – were they murdering bees? People?)
  • The sports stadiums were empty (they broadcasted with fake audience cheers, it was bizarre) but some stadiums offered fans to buy cardboard cutouts of themselves to place in the seats. Gam got Millie a cutout for the Shoe so she was “at” the Buckeye games.

I thought I’d finish this blog post months ago (I began writing in August of 2020) but the pandemic trudged on. Ohio is now in a state of “purple” meaning we are worse off when we were in the “red” during our initial shutdown (the colors are arbitrary). Children are back in school full time, sporting events are being held with spectators, vaccines are being administered through drive-thrus – I don’t know what’s next for parenting in the pandemic but I’m glad this blog can be updated because I’m sure it’s not over.

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Big Sister

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Big Sister

I only know myself as a big sister; I don’t remember being an only child for the first two years of my life. I am a big sister to, two awesome people who I will always see as, kids. I cherish the memories of helping my brother get ready for school in the morning and talking through the bunk beds with my sister at night. Running to the car we’d yell, “shotgun!” to see who was going to sit in the front seat. I remember sticking up for my siblings at school; I about pounded a kid for calling my sister fat and I wasn’t very nice to the bully taking my brothers lunch either. My sister would keep my secrets and my brother could always make me laugh. I am proud of my siblings and I am grateful to be their big sister.

I always knew that I wanted to have a basketball team amount of kids, if the Lord would allow. The preeclampsia that I experienced with Millie scared me of the birthing process but never out of wanting to expand our family. To allow my body time to recover, my OB asked for me to give myself two years before getting pregnant again but when Millie was 20 months old, we found out we were expecting. I was still breastfeeding Mill and continued until she was 22 months old, when I entered my second trimester of pregnancy. I was instructed to take a calcium supplement as my vegan diet didn’t allow much calcium to go around for myself, a breastfeeding toddler, and a growing fetus. That aside, we were excited that Millie was going to be a big sister come March!

The first person I told after seeing the positive pregnancy test was my little sister. We had been talking about how I felt fatigued and she encouraged me to take a test. She was at work when I called to tell her the news and she startled everyone in her office by screaming in excitement. From the very beginning of this pregnancy, things were different than my first. The pink result on the pee stick was much more prominent this time around. I was pleasantly surprised that this pregnancy didn’t come with the hyperemesis gravidarum that I experienced with Mill. Due to all the puking during my first pregnancy, I had to miss my sisters college graduation, hospitalized with dehydration. This time around, I was pregnant but also was able keep up with an energetic toddler. We had a gender reveal with our family where we cut into a cake that spilled out blue candy – no surprise that this pregnancy was different, we are having a baby boy.

Millie is a little mommy; she loves babies. At Zumbini, she would rather spend time putting her face in baby carriers of the siblings of her classmates than dance and play instruments. Millie will give her baby dolls stroller rides, she feeds them bottles, and she puts them to sleep by covering them up and kissing them on the head. Anything small is a baby to her. I love her caring nature. There was never a doubt in my mind – she would be an awesome big sister.

I do not think Millie understands that there will be a new baby in our house come March. She is aware that there is a baby in my stomach and that we are preparing our home for his arrival however, how can a two year old comprehend a new life? I still am in awe of the miracle that is a new baby. So here I am, enjoying my time as a one child mama for a little while longer. I will never forget Millies time as my only child however, she will. She’ll forever know herself, like me, as a big sister.

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Makeup and Millie

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Makeup and Millie

I have vivid memories of watching my mom put her makeup on in the bathroom mirror. Sometimes she’d ask me to brush her long, dark hair and add a polishing cream to the ends to make the stray hairs lay down flat. I remember being envious of how beautiful she looked and wondering if I’d ever grow up to be that pretty. “Maybe when I’m 27”, I’d think.

Before I was allowed to wear makeup out of the house, my mom insisted on teaching me how to properly apply my foundation, powder, blush, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara. When I’d wear too much eyeliner or dark eyeshadow, per my mother, she’d take my makeup away until I was ready to wear it correctly. If I was grounded from wearing makeup, I’d borrow my friend’s eyeliner and apply it in a car mirror on my way to school; totally gross, but middle-school-me didn’t care. Reflecting on those years, I am grateful that I had a mother who invested time into me; I know that not all children get to experience that.

This year, I’ll turn 27, and one of the best compliments I receive is how much I favor my mother. After a much needed, adults only, double date, my reluctant husband accompanied me to Ulta for an, “in and out, I know exactly what I’m getting” shopping trip. $80 later, I was a happy girl and my husband, will never step in that store again. I picked up two new hair products, an eyebrow pencil, two new makeup brushes, a lip moisturizer, a beauty blender, and new foundation. I couldn’t wait to use my new goodies!

My mother taught me to smile when applying blush to my cheek bones. I was to pull the blush across my cheek, at an upwards angle, to the side of my face. She was teaching me to contour, bless her! I still use my moms makeup methods today and Millie now watches me in the bathroom mirror. Somehow, my sweet angel must have gotten very confused because she used mommy’s new blush brush to scrub the toilet. My husband saw her first, took the brush from her, and he found it hysterical; “that’s one way to use it!” Blush brush = toilet scrubber.

The next day, while I was curling my hair, Millie decided to paint the bathroom cabinets. (She found a dry paint brush and it kept her occupied.) I was singing and she was babbling. I finished my hair, looked down to compliment Mills work, and to my surprise there were brown drawings on my white, vanity doors. At some point, Millie dropped the paint brush, found my new eyebrow pencil, and went to town! My husband found that funny, too.

Millie’s “innovative” ways of using makeup has surpassed anything that I could’ve thought of. The drawings have yet to be erased. Cheers to 27, makeup, and daughters.

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Locks of Millie

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Locks of Millie

How is it possible to take such pride in a strand of hair?

White, moving follicles I observed from your ultrasound.

Hair that I washed while holding your body effortlessly in one arm.

Counting the strands you lost during your first nights sleep.

Covering, protecting.

Longer it grows; you are beginning to take steps on your own.

Growing thicker from the nutrition you continue to receive from my body.

Independently combing your hair by running a tooth brush behind your ear.

Your hair. Different than mine.

I cherish the smell of you through your hair.

Baby

Zumbini

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Zumbini

Before I had a child, I knew I’d be the monitored screen time, oil using, breastfeeding, crunchy-kind of mama. When Millie was born, the television wasn’t turned on for weeks because I read in a parenting magazine that baby’s can sense when you’re multi-tasking, like folding laundry and watching Grey’s Anatomy. Multitasking can make a baby anxious so the tv remained off. My mom finally said, “You have to be able to put her down for a moment and the tv will help.” She found a channel called, Baby First and Millie was entranced!

The vibrant colors, the songs, the high-pitched voices, the close ups of baby faces; Millie loves it. There is a a flower in the corner of the screen and the petals change color based on the learning elements in that particular show. The best aspect of the channel, in my opinion, is Zumbini. I love to dance and Zumba is my favorite way to work out. Zumbini is a baby’s Zumba. It incorporates dancing, singing, instrument playing, ball rolling, etc. Millie loves to dance and sing to the short Zumbini episodes in our living room. She smiles and rocks her body – she is completely engaged! At the end of the show it instructs the viewer to, “Go online and register for a Zumbini class near you!” So, I did.

The class was being offered near my undergraduate campus so I felt comfortable with the location. The instructor was quick to answer all of my questions and she was just as helpful and kind when we met in class. I am a music teacher and a “retired”, collegiate Zumba instructor so one could assume that I would be judgmental towards another’s class however, I’m new at this parenting thing and I have nothing to gain from judging and everything to gain from creating experiences with Millie.

When registering for Zumbini, we received a book with the lyrics to all the songs in the class, music downloads, and a little doll (that has seriously won over Millie’s heart, she loves her, “TJ”). Zumbini promotes freedom for the children to do as they please as they listen the up-beat music. I dance with Millie on my hip, I dance in front of her while she sits on the floor, I play instruments while she puts hers directly into her mouth. At six months old, Millie was the youngest in the class however, everyone was willing to help her, they doted over her and her big, blue eyes, and it never felt like she didn’t belong.

The music from Zumbini, incorporates different languages, styles, tempo, and time. I like that Millie is exposed to such diversity. The class materials include rhythm sticks, scarves, miscellaneous percussion instruments, balls, and bongos. Mill has taken two, nine week sessions and we don’t plan on stopping. This girl is shaking what her momma gave her!

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Masters in Motherhood

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Masters in Motherhood

It was always my plan to obtain my masters degree before getting pregnant however, my hormones had a different agenda. I work best under pressure, which is why I stay busy, but after listening to the advice of my husband and my counselor, I decided to take a semester off after Millie was born. Millie was due in mid-December, the week after my fall semester finals, but due to preeclampsia, Millie arrived ahead of schedule, in early November; I still had four weeks remaining in my courses. Given the situation, my professors were completely understanding and they were lenient on due dates. During the first four weeks of classes, I completed many assignments ahead of time; perk of being a workaholic, and that helped a lot, too.

I quickly learned how to pump and type, simultaneously. Sleeping when the baby slept wasn’t a thing; while she slept, I did homework. I hate that her first month of life is such a blur in my memories. I wish I could’ve been more alert and aware but I was recovering and dog-tired. Thankfully, there were many pictures and videos taken during that time, and I indulge in them often.

I had almost gotten accustomed to my work load of sheer exhaustion when winter break began. Taking the spring semester off put me behind on my degree completion plan and looking back now, I wish I could’ve powered through. (The quicker I complete my degree, the sooner the repayment period begins for my loans, and the quicker my loans are forgiven.)

“May your college memories last as long as your student loan debt.” – a wise and financially broke man who attended college

I am very fortunate to be on a student loan forgiveness plan through the US government. I went to an expensive, private, music conservatory for my bachelors degree and I racked up undergraduate debt. I am five courses away from completing my masters degree from another expensive, private university and I tacked on graduate school debt. If I work ten years in public service (teach) while making my minimum, monthly student loan payments (120 payments in total) all the rest of my debt gets forgiven. Hallelujah!

Before I had Millie, teaching music was my life’s success and now, my whole life is Millie. She’s everything to me. Sometimes I wish I never went to college because I wouldn’t be in college debt and I would be able to stay home and raise my baby. Don’t get me wrong, I love teaching music, I just feel guilty about teaching other people’s children during the day and not being there for my own. My grandma went into retirement and watches Millie at our house while my husband and I work; I am so grateful for her help and that we do not have to put her in childcare. I know that I am setting a good example for my daughter by working and continuing my education however, my heart aches every time I walk out the door.

I will be graduating with a Masters of Art degree in music and worship, in ten months. Typing that makes me smile. That will put me on a higher pay scale at work and it will free up more of my time to spend with Millie. I’m proud to be completing this journey with a baby on my lap – today, she pounded on my keyboard and erased a good amount of my book report. Millie will know that her mom valued higher education and working women. I pray that my perseverance will inspire her.

– now onto that book report that’s due by midnight.

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Managing Migraines

by motheringmillieLeave a Comment on Managing Migraines
Managing Migraines

I have always hated bumper cars. I would drive my car around the edge of the raceway, as to stay clear of the congested middle. The steering wheel, violently shaking, was difficult to hold onto. WHAM! Rear ended; stalked for the “bump”. My body jolts forward, my head ricochets off the back, and then nausea. This is exactly what has been happening inside of my head; bumper cars.

Light; crash! Noise; ouch! Touch; bam! Every sense was hypersensitive and I couldn’t focus. I didn’t have an appetite. I drank water and I ate salty food but felt no relief. I took two ibuprofen and still, no change. I tried to sleep but was frequently interrupted to breastfeed Millie. The pressure behind my eyebrows was difficult to ignore. I have never experienced headache pain like this before so this feeling was new and unwelcome.

I woke up the next morning with an unsettling, dull ache beneath my skull and I made an appointment with my family doctor. My 20/20 vision was distorted from the intense pain and driving seemed dangerous. Thankfully, my grandma was able to drive me to my appointment and I rested my throbbing head against the passenger side window.

I arrived at the doctors and was pleasantly surprised with the number on the scale. I was further impressed by my blood pressure, especially because eclampsia can occur after delivery and headaches can be a symptom. My lungs sounded fine and my heart murmur had subsided. After two neurological tests, I was told that I had been experiencing postpartum migraines. I immediately felt angry; yet another issue from pregnancy that I’ve never heard of. Postpartum migraines occur due to the hormonal fluctuations while breastfeeding; migraines can last for days at a time – great. I was instructed to lay in a dark room and stay on a regiment of ibuprofen; three pills, four times a day, with food. If I wanted to take migraine specific medication, I would have to pump-and-dump – not an option. I know others who dull migraines with caffeine however, because I don’t consume caffeine on a regular basis, my doctor did not think that caffeine would help me. I was instructed to go to the ER if the migraines got any worse. Thankfully, 48 hours later, the bumper cars stopped.

Preeclampsia, rupturing ovarian cysts, postpartum migraines; I’ll take it all as long as Millie is healthy. And praise God, she’s perfect.

Baby

Raising and Rupturing

by motheringmillie3 Comments on Raising and Rupturing
Raising and Rupturing

I assumed labor was the end of my gut-wrenching pain, doubling over from cramping agony, but cue ruptured ovarian cyst.

I delivered my beautiful baby, naturally. I dilated quicker than expected and therefore, could not receive an epidural. People have asked, “What does natural, childbirth feel like?” Well, have you ever been set on fire? Labor was long, exhausting, and painful but I kept telling myself that when it was all over, I’d be able to hold my precious baby. I love my daughter and I’m so grateful that she is here and healthy however, the birthing experience is not something I look back on with a smile.

Fast forward 14 weeks and I started back to work. My Wednesday was interrupted when I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my abdomen. I gasped, grabbed my gut, and leaned forward. Appendicitis? Cold sweats, dizziness, nausea – the pain wasn’t going away. I had to stop teaching, I didn’t want to pass out in front of my students! All too soon, I found myself laying in a hospital bed again with my post-traumatic-delivery-anxiety triggered.

After I told the nurse that my left arm was best for IV insertion, she persisted to dig around in my right arm, fishing for a vein. Why?! She switched arms and the IV went right in. I told her so. The saline flush had a skunky smell and the IV fluid made me feel cold. The pain meds were inserted and I immediately felt delirious. I was given additional meds to help subdue the nausea that the pain medication caused. With both medications administered, I couldn’t help but to worry about what was being filtered into my breastmilk. The doctor thought it would be safest if I would, “pump and dump” for the next 24 hours. This was an issue – My body does not create excess milk and while working full time, my storage isn’t built. I knew with this hospitalization, we’d go though every ounce that was stored.

I was wheeled into the CT scanning room and was given an iodine-contrast through my IV. My body felt warm for thirty seconds as the contrast entered my blood stream; my throat, bladder, and ears especially. Unfortunately, this was another med that one probably shouldn’t breast feed on. I was instructed to lay still as the scan took place; it didn’t take long, but the stillness allowed my mind to wonder about scary what-if’s. Once the scan was complete, I was wheeled back into my room and instructed to drink lots of water to flush the contrast from my kidneys.

I had dozed off waiting for the CT results. Wow did it feel nice to sleep without a baby. All too soon, I was woken up by the doctor with the results of the scan. Due to the amount of fluid in my abdominal cavity, he could conclude that I had a 2-3cm ovarian cyst rupture. He informed me that this is not uncommon 6-12 months after pregnancy, due hormone irregularities. Apparently, cysts occur often during ovulation but they don’t always burst nor cause horrific pain. Naturally, I wanted to know how to prevent the cysts in the future and he gave me two options; get on birth control to stop ovulation or get a hysterectomy. What?! I’m not ready to kiss my reproductive years goodbye! I also was not about to start taking birth control pills – hormone altering, cancer causing, weight gaining, mood swinging, “birth control” pills. As grateful as I was to not need my appendix removed, the possibility of painful ovulation every month was concerning.

Now, it’s just a waiting game; will the cysts return? Will they continue after I finish breastfeeding? It’s possible that if the cyst is 7cm or larger, it could twist my ovaries during rupture and cut off my blood flow to my reproductive parts – terrifying! The heating pad helped, so did hot tea and the fetal position however, dealing with that intense pain every month will significantly decrease my quality of life. The doctors don’t know the future anymore than I do, and in the meantime, I will be diligently praying big. Go away rupturing cysts; I have a life to live and a baby to raise!