Walking! Ok no-- but Moving Feet A Little Bit!

Today, while being bribed with some bread, Solly moved one foot ever so slightly... and then moved his other foot, too! He didn't exactly cover any distance with this move... but it was definitely the precursor to walking! Whohoo! And Yikes!!

He's huge into waving now. He tends to confuse two-handed waving with clapping, as they are pretty similar to his motor system, but generally he gets the idea that we wave to say hi or bye, or anytime we want eye contact and happiness. For instance, if I'm nursing him while reading email, he'll wave with his free hand until I look down on him. Then he'll do his half-smile and rest his hand down. It's pretty ridiculous. Another favorite time is when he's trying to get into trouble. He'll crawl over to something he knows he's not supposed to get into, and we'll semi-seriously say "Solomon...." he'll turn to us, wave and smile, and go back to what he was doing. Sneaky, but still adorable.

Another mom at my daycare is pregnant- and almost exactly as far along as I had thought I was before all this mess happened (btw, I go back in Wednesday to figure out why things haven't naturally "progressed"- for lack of better term, by now). Anyway, all the moms were whining about pregnancy when I had to be a butt and say I loved being pregnant. This got me some dagger eyes. One mom, half-jokingly said I should be a surrogate, and get paid $25,ooo for something I thought was so great. Did you know surrogates are paid so much money?? I did not. For a split second I was seriously thinking (ok, not seriously, but I was thinking) that getting a big ol belly back in addition to a sizable amount of money is a great deal! Not anytime soon, of course, but I have plenty of reproductive years left once my keeper kids are in school or something. Of course, by the time I've thought this far I realize that $25k could not cover the emotional toll it must take to have a baby come out of you, only to hand it over to someone else. I can't imagine doing that for a stranger. If, for some reason, say my sister needed a surrogate- no question I'd do it. A good friend? We could have a serious discussion about it. But a stranger? Wow- hard.

Ok, going to go tidy up before bedtime...

Welcome Back, Me

So here I am again.

It's been a long time.

Solly is great. He's standing by himself. He started a crazy, eccentric, whole-armed wave which is adorable. I don't think he quite understands the pairing of this to hellos and goodbyes- being as he'll now wave to my pants, the wall, what have you. But it's pretty adorable nonetheless. He is eating well after a week-long hiatus from being sick. His transient favorites are currently de-skinned blueberries (a joy for me) and ground turkey. And cheese. Always okay with cheese. We love our family daycare. 4 kids at a time. Wonderful, wonderful- but it is a post in and of itself. We had a great visit to Portland to visit Amy, Jeffrey and of course my Hazard. I do think Hazard dislikes me, though... But since we've gotten back from the trip, at the encouragement from said awesome daycare lady, Leila, we've magically turned Solomon into Super Sleeper. And it's wonderful. I was skeptical of her antics, yes. And yes, it involves(ed, really) Solomon crying for up to ten minutes. I've previously been against CIO. Well, not 'against' so much as 'not for my family.' But I like to think of this more as 'cry for a few minutes' since he's really not just crying it 'out'. At least that's what I tell myself. Anyway, this magic trick gave me 3-4 hours of napping each weekend day, 11+hours of uninterrupted nighttime sleep (which we have only hinted at here and there in the last 3 months full of moving, sicknesses, developmental leaps, teething, and other random nonexcuses for NOT SLEEPING). But even more than this, this magic has given us the time back that we used to spend bouncing and shushing and rocking. And he's more rested, and happier. And everyone is happy and full of butterflies, flowers and cherries.

But here's the not so flowery side of life. I know I'm supposed to hide this and not talk about it. And I still don't want to talk about it. But I do want to write about it and get it off my chest because it's a lot to go through, and if someone else reads this after a several-month hiatus, so be it. Anyway, Gerard and I had wanted to expand our family quickly and have two little boos that were close in age. Like twins, but easier. So we found out last month that we were pregnant! I'll give the abbreviated version of this story. So, we're pregnant and thrilled and already fighting whether or not we'll find out the sex of little bee. We have our first dr. appointment. I'm nervous, because I hadn't felt any of the first trimester woes that had plighted my first pregnancy with booboo. So I go there, expecting to be like 6 weeks pregnant, see the little bean and hear the little heartbeat and bring home an ultrasound picture to match boo's at 6w1day. So I'm laying there, and I get asked, "So you got a positive pregnancy test at home? When did you say that was?" Not exactly encouraging words. I had a sac. A small, 4.5 wk-sized sac. Which pretty much meant I would have conceived the day of my positive pregnancy test. Being as this isn't possible, I faced the alternative: miscarriage. I got rewarded by being sent to the lab to get blood drawn, and ordered back as soon as I got home from Portland (this was a pain in and of itself. Solomon and I were exhausted after coming home. And the only lab open on that Monday, July 5- a holiday, was the hospital in Redwood City- 30 miles away!! Solomon literally burst into tears when he saw us head back towards the car. He cried almost the entire trip. Driving there, getting bloodwork, driving home. Awesome. Where is Gerard in this story, you ask? Oh, in the middle of another 90 hr work-week. I digress.) So I get my blood drawn on Monday, which is decidedly more than 48 hours from Thursday (for those without previous miscarriage woes, they like to see your hormone levels double per 48hr period), but I wasn't around on Saturday. I was in Portland. Anyway, my numbers had increased, which was good. But not as much as you'd expect. I got my blooddrawn again- this time 48 hours later. It was going up, but by like 30%, not 100. My doctor had a bit of renewed (but still reserved) hope, meanwhile I was still crying myself to sleep. So I go in later that week ( this time with a sweaty, tired husband!) and see a gestational sac- and tiny little yolk sac... and no baby. No fetal pole. No heartbeat. No baby. So I got my miscarriage papers. Told to wait two weeks. And just wait. she offers a sort of backhanded ray of hope- that this might continue to develop- at which point we'd have to do lots of genetic testing to see if this is really a healthy, viable pregnancy that should/could continue. So now I'm halfway through my two weeks of waiting. What do I even hope for at this point? A natural miscarriage so I don't have to get surgery? That nothing happens? That the pregnancy continues to develop in this gray matter into an un-viable pregnancy that will lead to a later (harder) miscarriage, or worse- still born? But then of course I stumbled upon the misdiagnosed miscarriage website, which quickly lead to obsessive wondering if a miracle could happen and give me a healthy baby. I don't know. Until then, I'm just sitting around waiting. I'm at the point where I've accepted the inevitable miscarriage. I just don't want to have to make a decision. I don't want to have to decide to do a d&c (with possible complications of fertility problems later), versus waiting naturally. I don't want to have to decide to keep a doomed pregnancy which will lead to more pain and heartache later. I don't want a decision. I want a clear-cut answer: Your body is doing this. You need to do this. There is no alternative. So I guess that's all I'm really 'hoping' for at this point. Though I do still have a glimmer of hope this is all a mistake and I have a miracle baby inside. But mostly, I just an easy, natural closure to this so that we can move on and try again.

But until then, I wait.

Spoiled Milk

Today I noticed my cooler still had all the breastmilk I pumped on Friday at work left in it.

I had to pour it out in the sink.

I cried.

Another milestone met

This one's a not-so fun one though: separation anxiety.

I assumed this would happen to Gerard first, but alas, it is me. When I come home in the evening I say hi, but if I go around the corner to, say, take off my coat and pump/backpack: tears. If I'm holding him and then decide I'd like to pass him to Gerard for a minute so I can change: tears. Two things I'm gratetul for in this scenario:

1. We live in a loft, so there are very few places I can hide that are actually out of his line of vision. So this helps.

2. While I've always been sad I leave 20-30 minutes before he wakes up, now I'm a little relieved that he doesn't have to get sad, and make me feel sad and guilty in the process...

It's Papa's birthday today!! To celebrate I'm dragging him to our neighborhood library's grand reopening! Yay!!

Working mama

So I've been having a difficult work week. I do love so many things about my job, but I've had two particularly heart-wrenching parent conferences this week in which I've had to break hard news to parents who just aren't ready to hear it. I find myself starting things out soft and encouraging, but parents can't see all of the subtext of what I'm trying to explain, I have to get more and more frank and direct with them. And it's hard to sit there and shatter the dreams and expectations of these parents. It's always been hard, but now as mother I can't separate myself from how I would feel if I was sitting on the other side of the table. It does make me so fearful for what the future could hold for us- for Solomon, but in order to make it I have to live each day in and of itself and be gracious for the thriving baby that I have.

In addition, I'm starting to fall behind on reports I need to write. As a new employee, I'm trying to balance having a strong work ethic and of course providing everything I can for my clients and their families, but at the same time I have a baby at home. And I can't stay late because then I wouldn't see him at all that day. So it's getting very hard to fit in everything I'm expected to do. Lastly, as much as I love the texts I get from Gerard on Solomon's accomplishments and funny things he does, it also is always twinged with guilt and jealousy that I'm not there when he sat for the first time, or simply did something funny. And while I know myself enough to know I wouldn't be okay being a stay at home mom full-time, I do also want to be there during this time. Thankfully my work schedule hasn't seemed to effect our bond. I don't know how I'd handle it if I began to feel more distant from him. And the stresses of work are almost all worth it for the huge open mouth grin I get when I walk through the door.

Speaking of that moment when I come home, Solomon has become increasingly effective in announcing who he'd like to be held by. He reaches out both arms and practically jumps out toward to desired parent. Of course, this trick is particularly fun when Gerard and I stay close together and he can bounce back and forth as much as he'd like. Fun times. He also is absolutely crazy about his jumperoo. I'm crazy about the fact I can take 15 minutes to eat a meal with two hands!

Why do I see pregnant women and feel nostalgic?

Half-Birthday!

Solomon turned 6 months old a few days ago! It's crazy to me how much he can do now compared to even 2 or 3 months ago... Anyway, as a half-birthday present, but really a present for Gerard and I so we cold eat a meal with two hands, we got a jumperoo. The least offensive-looking one I could find. He had tried out the same model at a friend's house, so we knew he loved it, which helped confirm our purchase. As an aside, the couple we bought it from, on Craigslist, was interracial and obviously has a mixed baby... and she was so much darker than Solomon. And the dad was so much lighter than Gerard... I don't get it!

Anyway, Solomon and I went to the farmer's market to pick out some sweet potatoes for his first food! Since he tries to put everything in his mouth, I was expecting this to be the highlight of his life, but he was a bit more apathetic toward it...

Solomon also had his first playground swing ride! I'd had never thought to try this so early, but another neighborhood mom I walk with mentioned taking her baby to do it, so I figured I'd give it a whirl. At first I started out quite reserved, and he was a bit more interested in the dogs barking next to us than the actually swinging

He got excited when he got pushed a little harder. But was always thrown off-guard when the apex came (I am absolutely in love with this photo, btw!)

And then it was fun again.

And then it was scary again.

This morning we were getting ready for an infant massage class (which turned out to be quite a disappointment and hardly worth the drive across town. But at least it was free) while Gerard was still sleeping, so boo boo got to come in the shower with me. We'd done this before, but not in a while, and Solomon wasn't quite sure what to think. And literally seconds after turning off the water when we were done he peed all over both of us. But yes the class was a bust but we did have a really good run in the rain later, courtesy of our new rain cover for our jogging stroller. I'm really trying to make an effort to get back to working out regularly, no matter how hard I'm finding it. I definitely feel better for it.

This isn't really note worthy, but Solomon's peeing have now made our cloth diapers obsolete for nighttime, so we had to resort to disposables. But I guess one a day isn't so bad.

Birthday Eve

So, nothing happened today as would be expected.

Our power had gone out about 2 days ago, and while resetting the clocks, each one managed to get a different time. Most effected was the oven time, which is the time I use when I'm getting ready to leave for work. I missed my train yesterday and thought it was an unfortunate fluke, but alas, this morning, I again saw it leave when I was still several hundred feet away. So I sit down and wait for the next train. Which is only ten minutes away, but the super slow train that stops at every. single. stop. Ugh. I was particularly disappointed because I was wanting to get to work and start up on all of the work I had to do. I had high ambitions for a productive day. And, I'd get a guilt-free chance to stay at work later and catch up, as Gerard was giving a lecture at Stanford this evening, (right next to my work) so he'd drop off boo with me later than I usually leave, and I'd bring him back home, instead of me trying to rush home to get some quality time in before bed time.

But as it was, I'd get in 30 minutes before my first parent conference. Factoring in time to settle in and print out the materials I'd need, I wouldn't even have time to pump before I started seeing clients. Ugh. Speaking of pumping, I'd forgotten to refreeze my ice packs the night before, so I would have to put them in the freezer at work so they'd be cool for my commute home.

Ok, so I get off the train and begin my 20-min walk to work. I notice the street light is out and mentally berate the assholes that feel entitled to just drive through the intersection without stopping. I keep walking and notice that actually all of the street lights are out. Hmm.

I get into work and sure enough the lights are out. Meaning, I can't use my computer. I can't type up notes, I can't check my schedule, I can't print out my reports for my parent conference. Nothing. Ok. So luckily I have a nice large window and have pretty clear visibility in my office so I begin the work I can do without a computer. I manage my way through a semi-dark, paperless parent conference (where I had to break some pretty bad news with a harsh diagnosis I was giving), and dispo with another multidisciplinary team. By now I really have to pump. Of course I can't plug in my pump, so I rely on a dying battery adapter, and then have to hand express as best I can. My ice packs were chilling in an unplugged freezer, so I kinda just stocked my milk in the fridge far enough back to stay cold as possible, but still accessible to find in the dark amidst all of the other food. My next client- who cancels more than he shows up- of course shows up for therapy in the dark. I fumble through therapy and then see a text from Gerard saying he's stuck in an elevator. I see another text saying he's scared. And then nothing. No response to my texts. No answering or returning my calls. Keep in mind Gerard has Solomon at this time, so of course all I can envision is both my husband and son plummeting to their death in the elevator shaft, and then all I have left is Kota and Biggs (whom I begrudgingly pinky promised to Gerard I'd keep in the event of his death). So I hightail it to the train station, which doesn't even have a train for another 45 minutes. This train also stopped at every. single. stop. Oh- except for my stop. Once I was on the train, Gerard finally thinks to nonchalantly call me back. I yell at him, tell him he has to pick me up at the next closest train station, and that my phone is about to die. His response: ok, so what do you want to do for dinner?

So I finally get home, barely any earlier than usual, none of the work done I had needed to get done, and now Solomon just woke up crying. Awesome.

I'm back!

So, I've really missed this blog. It's been cathartic to me, but the past couple months have been so overwhelming in so many regards, it has been sidelined. As had exercise. Funny how in the most stressful times in life, the things that help and relax you the most are the first ones cute from your to-do list. I'm slowly starting to get back into exercise, which helps. I bought a Bob off Craigslist, so boo and I have started going jogging. I'd like to be able to implement this into a weekday routine, but it's hard to find time after I get home from work and before his bedtime. So right now it's mostly a weekend thing. I'd still like to fit in some sort of exercise during the week. I do walk about 40 minute a day to and from work and the train station, so at least it's something, albeit minimal. I bought some ankle weights to at least give me a little more burn while doing this. The only real run I get is when I'm late for the train. And it's super fun to run to the train with my pump backpack, cooler full of breastmilk in hand, etc. Awesome.

Anyway, since last posting I've resigned from my stinky old job, started a new and awesome job, gotten married, had a birthday, and I'm sure another milestone or two. My milk supply plummeted, along with Solomon's weight gain, which forced me to make a very difficult decision to start supplementing with formula. I felt sick to my stomach in the grocery aisle buying formula and just wanted to cry, but I managed to do it, and Solomon is happily munching away. I admit I felt a ping of hurt that he took to the formula so easily, but mostly I'm relieved that his weight is back up to healthy proportions. He's sitting now, and laughing hysterically, babbling a lot, blowing lots of raspberries, and chews on anything he can reach. I can already tell we will have our hands full with a mischievous little boy as his mobility continues to increase...

Today I switched out his 3-6 month clothes for the 6-9 month! For some reason, we have a lot in this size, but our supply backs off considerably after this group. So when he's ready for 12 month clothes we may have to actually buy some!

Events on the horizon:

Feb 18: Solomon turns 6 months! We start trying purees next weekend

March 18: 7 months, but also Match Day- we find out where we'll be living the next 3-4 years

June: moving to above location

July: hopefully a feeling of being settled for the first time since...ever, really.