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Saturday, January 31, 2009
back to work update
OH so this week, was a challenge. I went back to work on the 26th. My first day was good. I was getting back into the groove of things, trying to figure out what had changed in three months... a lot. Most of it came back to me, but I didn't want to make mistakes so I just tried to ease my way into it. It definitely was hard to leave Levi. I missed him soooo much and it didn't seem to help that every 5 minutes someone was saying-- oh do you miss him. Well, duh!! Of course I do and he's all I am thinking about, besides trying not to screw up something at work. I think about him constantly though. Wondering what he's doing and worry about if everything is ok. This part is the worst! It's the hardest thing I've had to do-- and really I am trying so hard.
We are sooo much busier now at work. Which makes the days fly so I won't complain about that. Today was absolute madness!! I felt like a hamster on a wheel. A wheel that NEVER stopped spinning.
We weighed Levi the other day and he was 18 1/2 pounds. He is growing so fast! He's into 6-9 month clothes and some 12mo. Crazy! He is smiling so much more and starting to giggle. He's slept through the night a couple of times but most of the time we are still getting up once per night (around 4am) for a bottle. Then he goes back to sleep until 7:30. He's still doing good on his schedule and hopefully it stays on track while I am working. WE're going to do our best.
I'll try to add some pictures. Talk to you all soon.
We are sooo much busier now at work. Which makes the days fly so I won't complain about that. Today was absolute madness!! I felt like a hamster on a wheel. A wheel that NEVER stopped spinning.
We weighed Levi the other day and he was 18 1/2 pounds. He is growing so fast! He's into 6-9 month clothes and some 12mo. Crazy! He is smiling so much more and starting to giggle. He's slept through the night a couple of times but most of the time we are still getting up once per night (around 4am) for a bottle. Then he goes back to sleep until 7:30. He's still doing good on his schedule and hopefully it stays on track while I am working. WE're going to do our best.
I'll try to add some pictures. Talk to you all soon.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Wish I'd found this years ago.
I was on a website and one of my online friends posted this letter. I so wish I would have found it years ago. Not only for myself but to share with those that surrounded me that never knew what to say, many that never even knew what was going on because it was such a private issue I was afraid to share. Feared what might have been said and thought about us. This message says everything someone dealing with fertility issues feels at one point or another. Feelings no one else understands unless you've been there, you just don't know how hard it is to live through. To just keep going everyday while everything around you- passes you by. I know it's a long article. But a message well worth taking the time to read.
And although we have our wonderful darling son now. Many of those dark times still linger in my heart. I don't know what the future holds for us and if it will take us down this road again. But knowledge is the key and with that I will share this message.
I di not write this- although I could have- over the years if I had ever had the patience. But I don't know if the words would have formed so elequently from my mind or mouth. I have a feeling there would be a lot more profanity involved had it been written from my heart and mind.
***********************************
Shared Journey – A Letter to Family and Friends
Dear Family and Friends,
I want to share my feelings about infertility with you, because I want you to understand my struggle. I know that understanding infertility is difficult; there are times when it seems even I don't understand. This struggle has provoked intense and unfamiliar feelings in me and I fear that my reactions to these feelings might be misunderstood. I hope my ability to cope and your ability to understand will improve as I share my feelings with you. I want you to understand.
You may describe me this way: obsessed, moody, helpless, depressed, envious, too serious, obnoxious, aggressive, antagonistic, and cynical. These aren't very admirable traits; no wonder your understanding of my infertility is difficult. I prefer to describe myself this way: confused, rushed and impatient, afraid, isolated and alone, guilty and ashamed, angry, sad and hopeless, and unsettled.
My infertility makes me feel confused. I always assumed I was fertile. I've spent years avoiding pregnancy and now it seems ironic that I can't conceive. I hope this will be a brief difficulty with a simple solution such as poor timing. I feel confused about whether I want to be pregnant or whether I want to be a parent. Surely if I try harder, try longer, try better and smarter, I will have a baby.
My infertility makes me feel rushed and impatient. I learned of my infertility only after I'd been trying to become pregnant for some time. My life-plan suddenly is behind schedule. I waited to become a parent and now I must wait again. I wait for medical appointments, wait for tests, wait for treatments, wait for other treatments, wait for my period not to come, wait for my partner not to be out of town and wait for pregnancy. At best, I have only twelve opportunities each year. How old will I be when I finish having my family?
My infertility makes me feel afraid. Infertility is full of unknowns, and I'm frightened because I need some definite answers. How long will this last? What if I'm never a parent? What humiliation must I endure? What pain must I suffer? Why do drugs I take to help me, make me feel worse? Why can't my body do the things that my mind wants it to do? Why do I hurt so much? I'm afraid of my feelings, afraid of my undependable body and afraid of my future.
My infertility makes me feel isolated and alone. Reminders of babies are everywhere. I must be the only one enduring this invisible curse. I stay away from others, because everything makes me hurt. No one knows how horrible my pain is. Even though I'm usually a clear thinker, I find myself being lured by superstitions and promises. I think I'm losing perspective. I feel so alone and I wonder if I'll survive this.
My infertility makes me feel guilty and ashamed. Frequently I forget that infertility is a medical problem and should be treated as one. Infertility destroys my self esteem and I feel like a failure. Why am I being punished? What did I do to deserve this? Am I not worthy of a baby? Will my partner want to remain with me? Is this the end of my family lineage? Will my family be ashamed of me? It is easy to lose self-confidence and to feel ashamed.
My infertility makes me feel angry. Everything makes me angry, and I know much of my anger is misdirected. I'm angry at my body because it has betrayed me even though I've always taken care of it. I'm angry at my partner because we can't seem to feel the same about infertility at the same time. I want and need an advocate to help me. I'm angry at my family because they've always sheltered and protected me from terrible pain. My younger sibling is pregnant; my mother wants a family reunion to show off her grandchildren and my grandparents want to pass down family heirlooms.
I'm angry at my medical caregivers, because it seems that they control my future. They humiliate me, inflict pain on me, pry into my privacy, patronize me, and sometimes forget who I am. How can I impress on them how important parenting is to me? I'm angry at my expenses; infertility treatment is extremely expensive. My financial resources may determine my family size. My insurance company isn't cooperative, and I must make so many sacrifices to pay the medical bills. I can't miss any more work, or I'll lose my job. I can't go to a specialist, because it means more travel time, more missed work, and greater expenses. Finally, I'm angry at everyone else. Everyone has opinions about my inability to become a parent. Everyone has easy solutions. Everyone seems to know too little and say too much.
My infertility makes me feel sad and hopeless. Infertility feels like I've lost my future, and no one knows of my sadness. I feel hopeless; infertility robs me of my energy. I've never cried so much nor so easily. I'm sad that my infertility places my marriage under so much strain. I'm sad that my infertility requires me to be so self-centered. I'm sad that I've ignored many friendships because this struggle hurts so much and demands so much energy. Friends with children prefer the company of other families with children. I'm surrounded by babies, pregnant women, playgrounds, baby showers, birth stories, kids' movies, birthday parties and much more. I feel so sad and hopeless. My infertility makes me feel unsettled. My life is on hold. Making decisions about my immediate and my long-term future seems impossible. I can't decide about education, career, purchasing a home, pursuing a hobby, getting a pet, vacations, business trips and houseguests. The more I struggle with my infertility, the less control I have. This struggle has no timetable; the treatments have no guarantees. The only sure things are that I need to be near my partner at fertile times and near my doctor at treatment times. Should I pursue adoption? Should I take expensive drugs? Should I pursue more specialized and costly medical intervention? It feels unsettling to have no clear, easy answers or guarantees.
Occasionally I feel my panic subside. I'm learning some helpful ways to cope; I'm now convinced I'm not crazy, and I believe I'll survive. I'm learning to listen to my body and to be assertive, not aggressive, about my needs. I'm realizing that good medical care and good emotional care are not necessarily found in the same place. I'm trying to be more than an infertile person gaining enthusiasm, joyfulness, and zest for life.
You can help me. I know you care about me and I know my infertility affects our relationship. My sadness causes you sadness; what hurts me, hurts you, too. I believe we can help each other through this sadness. Individually we both seem quite powerless, but together we can be stronger. Maybe some of these hints will help us to better understand infertility.
I need you to be a listener. Infertile couples have a lot on their minds and need someone to talk to. Sometimes a good ear helps people get things off their chests. A good listener can help people express their anxiety, anger, and guilt; or help people work out solutions to problems. Without offering any suggestions, your attentiveness and interest may provide the comfort and reassurance I need most. Talking about my struggle helps me to make decisions. Let me know if you are available for me. Repeatedly remind me that you love me no matter what. I need to hear it so badly. Let me know you understand that this is very hard work. Help me realize that I may need additional support from professional caregivers and appropriate organizations. Perhaps you can suggest resources. You might also need support for yourself, and I fear I'm unable to provide it for you; please don't expect me to do so. Help me to keep sight of my goal.
Let me know when you don’t know what to say. I need you to be comfortable with me, and then I also will feel more comfortable. Talking about infertility sometimes feels awkward. Are you worried you might say the wrong thing? Share those feelings with me. Ask me if I want to talk. Sometimes I will want to, and sometimes I won't, but it will remind me that you care.
I need you to be sensitive. Although I may joke about infertility to help myself cope, it doesn't seem as funny when others joke about it. Please don't tease me with remarks like, "You don't seem to know how to do it." Don't trivialize my struggle by saying, "I'd be glad to give you one of my kids." It's no comfort to hear empty reassurances like, "You'll be a parent by this time next year." Don't minimize my feelings with, "You shouldn't be so unhappy." For now, don't push me into uncomfortable situations like baby showers or family reunions. I already feel sad and guilty; please don't also make me feel guilty for disappointing you.
I need you to be honest with me. Let me know that you may need time to adjust to some of my decisions. I also needed adjustment time. If there are things you don't understand, say so. Please be gentle when you guide me to be realistic about things I can't change such as my age, some medical conditions, financial resources, and employment obligations. Don't hide information about others' pregnancies from me. Although such news makes me feel very sad, it feels worse when you leave me out.
I need you to be informed. Your advice and suggestions are only frustrating to me if they aren't based on fact. Be well informed so you can educate others when they make remarks based on myths. Don't let anyone tell you that my infertility will be cured if I relax and adopt. Don't tell me this is God's will. Don't ask me to justify my need to parent. Don't criticize my course of action or my choice of physician even though I may do that myself. Reassure yourself that I am also searching for plenty of information which helps me make more knowledgeable decisions about my options.
I need you to be patient. Remember that working through infertility is a process. It takes time. There are no guarantees, no package deals, no complete kits, no one right answer, and no "quickie" choices. My needs change; my choices change. Yesterday I demanded privacy, but today I need you for strength. You have many feelings about infertility, and I do too. Please allow me to have anger, joy, sadness, and hope. Don't minimize or evaluate my feelings. Just allow me to have them, and give me time.
1. Be patient. This couple may experience mood swings with every treatment or monthly cycle. One week they may be high because a new treatment promises hope; the next week they may be in mourning for the child they lost (didn't make) this month. They may be riding an exhausting emotional roller coaster which makes their actions and moods unpredictable. Try to understand and flow with their changes. And remember that when they want to be alone, they are not rejecting you. Don't get your feelings hurt by the preoccupation they have with their problems; keep in touch.
I need you to be strengthening by boosting my self esteem. My sense of worthlessness hampers my ability to take charge. My personal privacy has repeatedly been invaded. Enjoyable experiences with you such as a lunch date, a shopping trip, or a visit to a museum help me feel normal. Encourage me to maintain my sense of humor; guide me to find joys. Celebrate with me my successes, even ones as small as making it through a medical appointment without crying. Remind me that I am more than an infertile person. Help me by sharing your strength.
Eventually I will be beyond the struggle of infertility. I know my infertility will never completely go away, because it will change my life. I won't be able to return to the person I was before infertility, but I also will no longer be controlled by this struggle. I will leave the struggle behind me, and from that I will have improved my skills for empathy, patience, resilience, forgiveness, decision-making and self-assessment. I feel grateful that you are trying to ease my journey through this infertility struggle by giving me your understanding.
For those of you that are still reading. Thank you.
And although we have our wonderful darling son now. Many of those dark times still linger in my heart. I don't know what the future holds for us and if it will take us down this road again. But knowledge is the key and with that I will share this message.
I di not write this- although I could have- over the years if I had ever had the patience. But I don't know if the words would have formed so elequently from my mind or mouth. I have a feeling there would be a lot more profanity involved had it been written from my heart and mind.
***********************************
Shared Journey – A Letter to Family and Friends
Dear Family and Friends,
I want to share my feelings about infertility with you, because I want you to understand my struggle. I know that understanding infertility is difficult; there are times when it seems even I don't understand. This struggle has provoked intense and unfamiliar feelings in me and I fear that my reactions to these feelings might be misunderstood. I hope my ability to cope and your ability to understand will improve as I share my feelings with you. I want you to understand.
You may describe me this way: obsessed, moody, helpless, depressed, envious, too serious, obnoxious, aggressive, antagonistic, and cynical. These aren't very admirable traits; no wonder your understanding of my infertility is difficult. I prefer to describe myself this way: confused, rushed and impatient, afraid, isolated and alone, guilty and ashamed, angry, sad and hopeless, and unsettled.
My infertility makes me feel confused. I always assumed I was fertile. I've spent years avoiding pregnancy and now it seems ironic that I can't conceive. I hope this will be a brief difficulty with a simple solution such as poor timing. I feel confused about whether I want to be pregnant or whether I want to be a parent. Surely if I try harder, try longer, try better and smarter, I will have a baby.
My infertility makes me feel rushed and impatient. I learned of my infertility only after I'd been trying to become pregnant for some time. My life-plan suddenly is behind schedule. I waited to become a parent and now I must wait again. I wait for medical appointments, wait for tests, wait for treatments, wait for other treatments, wait for my period not to come, wait for my partner not to be out of town and wait for pregnancy. At best, I have only twelve opportunities each year. How old will I be when I finish having my family?
My infertility makes me feel afraid. Infertility is full of unknowns, and I'm frightened because I need some definite answers. How long will this last? What if I'm never a parent? What humiliation must I endure? What pain must I suffer? Why do drugs I take to help me, make me feel worse? Why can't my body do the things that my mind wants it to do? Why do I hurt so much? I'm afraid of my feelings, afraid of my undependable body and afraid of my future.
My infertility makes me feel isolated and alone. Reminders of babies are everywhere. I must be the only one enduring this invisible curse. I stay away from others, because everything makes me hurt. No one knows how horrible my pain is. Even though I'm usually a clear thinker, I find myself being lured by superstitions and promises. I think I'm losing perspective. I feel so alone and I wonder if I'll survive this.
My infertility makes me feel guilty and ashamed. Frequently I forget that infertility is a medical problem and should be treated as one. Infertility destroys my self esteem and I feel like a failure. Why am I being punished? What did I do to deserve this? Am I not worthy of a baby? Will my partner want to remain with me? Is this the end of my family lineage? Will my family be ashamed of me? It is easy to lose self-confidence and to feel ashamed.
My infertility makes me feel angry. Everything makes me angry, and I know much of my anger is misdirected. I'm angry at my body because it has betrayed me even though I've always taken care of it. I'm angry at my partner because we can't seem to feel the same about infertility at the same time. I want and need an advocate to help me. I'm angry at my family because they've always sheltered and protected me from terrible pain. My younger sibling is pregnant; my mother wants a family reunion to show off her grandchildren and my grandparents want to pass down family heirlooms.
I'm angry at my medical caregivers, because it seems that they control my future. They humiliate me, inflict pain on me, pry into my privacy, patronize me, and sometimes forget who I am. How can I impress on them how important parenting is to me? I'm angry at my expenses; infertility treatment is extremely expensive. My financial resources may determine my family size. My insurance company isn't cooperative, and I must make so many sacrifices to pay the medical bills. I can't miss any more work, or I'll lose my job. I can't go to a specialist, because it means more travel time, more missed work, and greater expenses. Finally, I'm angry at everyone else. Everyone has opinions about my inability to become a parent. Everyone has easy solutions. Everyone seems to know too little and say too much.
My infertility makes me feel sad and hopeless. Infertility feels like I've lost my future, and no one knows of my sadness. I feel hopeless; infertility robs me of my energy. I've never cried so much nor so easily. I'm sad that my infertility places my marriage under so much strain. I'm sad that my infertility requires me to be so self-centered. I'm sad that I've ignored many friendships because this struggle hurts so much and demands so much energy. Friends with children prefer the company of other families with children. I'm surrounded by babies, pregnant women, playgrounds, baby showers, birth stories, kids' movies, birthday parties and much more. I feel so sad and hopeless. My infertility makes me feel unsettled. My life is on hold. Making decisions about my immediate and my long-term future seems impossible. I can't decide about education, career, purchasing a home, pursuing a hobby, getting a pet, vacations, business trips and houseguests. The more I struggle with my infertility, the less control I have. This struggle has no timetable; the treatments have no guarantees. The only sure things are that I need to be near my partner at fertile times and near my doctor at treatment times. Should I pursue adoption? Should I take expensive drugs? Should I pursue more specialized and costly medical intervention? It feels unsettling to have no clear, easy answers or guarantees.
Occasionally I feel my panic subside. I'm learning some helpful ways to cope; I'm now convinced I'm not crazy, and I believe I'll survive. I'm learning to listen to my body and to be assertive, not aggressive, about my needs. I'm realizing that good medical care and good emotional care are not necessarily found in the same place. I'm trying to be more than an infertile person gaining enthusiasm, joyfulness, and zest for life.
You can help me. I know you care about me and I know my infertility affects our relationship. My sadness causes you sadness; what hurts me, hurts you, too. I believe we can help each other through this sadness. Individually we both seem quite powerless, but together we can be stronger. Maybe some of these hints will help us to better understand infertility.
I need you to be a listener. Infertile couples have a lot on their minds and need someone to talk to. Sometimes a good ear helps people get things off their chests. A good listener can help people express their anxiety, anger, and guilt; or help people work out solutions to problems. Without offering any suggestions, your attentiveness and interest may provide the comfort and reassurance I need most. Talking about my struggle helps me to make decisions. Let me know if you are available for me. Repeatedly remind me that you love me no matter what. I need to hear it so badly. Let me know you understand that this is very hard work. Help me realize that I may need additional support from professional caregivers and appropriate organizations. Perhaps you can suggest resources. You might also need support for yourself, and I fear I'm unable to provide it for you; please don't expect me to do so. Help me to keep sight of my goal.
Let me know when you don’t know what to say. I need you to be comfortable with me, and then I also will feel more comfortable. Talking about infertility sometimes feels awkward. Are you worried you might say the wrong thing? Share those feelings with me. Ask me if I want to talk. Sometimes I will want to, and sometimes I won't, but it will remind me that you care.
I need you to be sensitive. Although I may joke about infertility to help myself cope, it doesn't seem as funny when others joke about it. Please don't tease me with remarks like, "You don't seem to know how to do it." Don't trivialize my struggle by saying, "I'd be glad to give you one of my kids." It's no comfort to hear empty reassurances like, "You'll be a parent by this time next year." Don't minimize my feelings with, "You shouldn't be so unhappy." For now, don't push me into uncomfortable situations like baby showers or family reunions. I already feel sad and guilty; please don't also make me feel guilty for disappointing you.
I need you to be honest with me. Let me know that you may need time to adjust to some of my decisions. I also needed adjustment time. If there are things you don't understand, say so. Please be gentle when you guide me to be realistic about things I can't change such as my age, some medical conditions, financial resources, and employment obligations. Don't hide information about others' pregnancies from me. Although such news makes me feel very sad, it feels worse when you leave me out.
I need you to be informed. Your advice and suggestions are only frustrating to me if they aren't based on fact. Be well informed so you can educate others when they make remarks based on myths. Don't let anyone tell you that my infertility will be cured if I relax and adopt. Don't tell me this is God's will. Don't ask me to justify my need to parent. Don't criticize my course of action or my choice of physician even though I may do that myself. Reassure yourself that I am also searching for plenty of information which helps me make more knowledgeable decisions about my options.
I need you to be patient. Remember that working through infertility is a process. It takes time. There are no guarantees, no package deals, no complete kits, no one right answer, and no "quickie" choices. My needs change; my choices change. Yesterday I demanded privacy, but today I need you for strength. You have many feelings about infertility, and I do too. Please allow me to have anger, joy, sadness, and hope. Don't minimize or evaluate my feelings. Just allow me to have them, and give me time.
1. Be patient. This couple may experience mood swings with every treatment or monthly cycle. One week they may be high because a new treatment promises hope; the next week they may be in mourning for the child they lost (didn't make) this month. They may be riding an exhausting emotional roller coaster which makes their actions and moods unpredictable. Try to understand and flow with their changes. And remember that when they want to be alone, they are not rejecting you. Don't get your feelings hurt by the preoccupation they have with their problems; keep in touch.
I need you to be strengthening by boosting my self esteem. My sense of worthlessness hampers my ability to take charge. My personal privacy has repeatedly been invaded. Enjoyable experiences with you such as a lunch date, a shopping trip, or a visit to a museum help me feel normal. Encourage me to maintain my sense of humor; guide me to find joys. Celebrate with me my successes, even ones as small as making it through a medical appointment without crying. Remind me that I am more than an infertile person. Help me by sharing your strength.
Eventually I will be beyond the struggle of infertility. I know my infertility will never completely go away, because it will change my life. I won't be able to return to the person I was before infertility, but I also will no longer be controlled by this struggle. I will leave the struggle behind me, and from that I will have improved my skills for empathy, patience, resilience, forgiveness, decision-making and self-assessment. I feel grateful that you are trying to ease my journey through this infertility struggle by giving me your understanding.
For those of you that are still reading. Thank you.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Just a quick update
Thought I'd jump on here real quick and post a couple of new developments. Well, Levi hasn't officially been sleeping through the night but-- but we are growing closer to that-- I hope. He is now going from approximately 7:30 at night to about 4:30-5:00am. Then he drinks a bottle and back to sleep he goes.
I went out the other night for a couple of hours with the girls and left Tim to put Levi to bed. Funny he didn't want to go to bed on time that night. I'll have to work with Tim a little more on the magic touch for putting him to sleep. It's really funny. He drinks his bottle, he burps, sometimes he poops-- so then we change that. Then I wrap him up in his little baby burrito swaddle. Binky into mouth. Turn him towards me on his side. He then buries his little face into the crook of my elbow and his eyes roll back, a few taps on the heiney and his eyes close. He's out. Then into the bassinet he goes. Nighty night. I guess he just missed me that night. Tim did get him to sleep-- a little later than usual but he did good nonetheless.
He absolutely loves his bath! He kicks and squirms-- he lifts his little butt up and kicks at the same time. One of these days I'm afraid he's going to slide right out of the bottom of the baby tub. It's like bathing Shamu somedays. More water around the sink than in it. He's so funny though. It's just water-- and it cleans up just fine.
He also shared a cute little laugh with us the other night. It was hilarious! I was tickling him under his chin and he just giggled! That turned the tears on. I love him so much. I never imagined it was possible to love something or someone that much. But I do. He's changed my life. And I'm so happy for it.
Well, I guess I best get to bed. I gotta get my sleep too. No breaks around here.
Talk to you all soon.
I went out the other night for a couple of hours with the girls and left Tim to put Levi to bed. Funny he didn't want to go to bed on time that night. I'll have to work with Tim a little more on the magic touch for putting him to sleep. It's really funny. He drinks his bottle, he burps, sometimes he poops-- so then we change that. Then I wrap him up in his little baby burrito swaddle. Binky into mouth. Turn him towards me on his side. He then buries his little face into the crook of my elbow and his eyes roll back, a few taps on the heiney and his eyes close. He's out. Then into the bassinet he goes. Nighty night. I guess he just missed me that night. Tim did get him to sleep-- a little later than usual but he did good nonetheless.
He absolutely loves his bath! He kicks and squirms-- he lifts his little butt up and kicks at the same time. One of these days I'm afraid he's going to slide right out of the bottom of the baby tub. It's like bathing Shamu somedays. More water around the sink than in it. He's so funny though. It's just water-- and it cleans up just fine.
He also shared a cute little laugh with us the other night. It was hilarious! I was tickling him under his chin and he just giggled! That turned the tears on. I love him so much. I never imagined it was possible to love something or someone that much. But I do. He's changed my life. And I'm so happy for it.
Well, I guess I best get to bed. I gotta get my sleep too. No breaks around here.
Talk to you all soon.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Where oh where does the time go??
Big accomplishment made this week, not sure yet if it was a fluke or just the beginning of a greatness. Levi slept through the night Sunday night. Now the contraversial part-- was it because the steelers won?? I don't know. I do know however he had a grand time hanging out with his Aunt Cami as they bonded over Black and Gold. He was entranced by the football game-- he's noticed the tv before so it's not like that was new to him. It was hilarious to watch him, watch it. Now what on earth does that have to do with sleeping through the night? Not sure if anything, but he was so tired that by 6:00 he was ready to zonk out. So he did for a little bit. Then it was bathtime and bottle and into his crib. He went right to sleep in his crib at Grandma's house--- even with the Steelers Cheering Section (Cami and Carli) after the win going on in the living room and a raucous game of scattergories happening in the dining room. Around nine we came home and I wondered if he would wake up when I transfered him from car seat to basinett. Nope, he didn't even peek out of an eye. At 3:00 I was up to potty, he still was snoozing away. Shortly after I checked on him again and he was still sleeping. I couldn't really relax then cause I thought as soon as I get comfortable he's going to be getting up. Tim got up at 4:30-- still Levi had not stirred. I heard Tim leave at 5:00, nothing. 6:15 rolls around and I hear the beginnings of movement in the bassinet. I couldn't believe it!
Last night he was in bed at his usual time about 7:45 and he didn't get up until 4:30am. So not completely through like the night before but still pretty stinkin' good!
I'll take 8 hours, no problem! No I just need to get in the habit of going to bed earlier myself. I find I try to stay up and get some things done at night. Thank Goodness we now have DVR and my tv shows are just recorded and I can watch them whenever I want. LOVE DVR-- if you don't have it-- GET IT!
Right now he's sitting in his little rocking chair, cooing away. Although I did hear him tooting so I think a diaper change is in the near future. Lucky me.
So I don't think I posted his update from his 2 month checkup..... drum roll........ he weighs 17 pounds and is 25 1/2 inches long. So he's gained 7+ pounds and 3 1/4 inches in 2 months! Wow! It is amazing how fast babies grow and change. He looks the same as before but yet different. Does that make sense?
I go back to work in 2 more weeks. Mixed feelings on that of course but money doesn't grow on our trees unfortunately. How I wish I could find those trees!!
Well, I guess I should be going for now. I'll post again soon. Take care and thanks for stopping by. I'm going to change a sweet (smelling) baby's diaper.
Last night he was in bed at his usual time about 7:45 and he didn't get up until 4:30am. So not completely through like the night before but still pretty stinkin' good!
I'll take 8 hours, no problem! No I just need to get in the habit of going to bed earlier myself. I find I try to stay up and get some things done at night. Thank Goodness we now have DVR and my tv shows are just recorded and I can watch them whenever I want. LOVE DVR-- if you don't have it-- GET IT!
Right now he's sitting in his little rocking chair, cooing away. Although I did hear him tooting so I think a diaper change is in the near future. Lucky me.
So I don't think I posted his update from his 2 month checkup..... drum roll........ he weighs 17 pounds and is 25 1/2 inches long. So he's gained 7+ pounds and 3 1/4 inches in 2 months! Wow! It is amazing how fast babies grow and change. He looks the same as before but yet different. Does that make sense?
I go back to work in 2 more weeks. Mixed feelings on that of course but money doesn't grow on our trees unfortunately. How I wish I could find those trees!!
Well, I guess I should be going for now. I'll post again soon. Take care and thanks for stopping by. I'm going to change a sweet (smelling) baby's diaper.
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