I feel like I owe my boobs an apology.
They have been work horses for years and I’ve provided them with very little support.
When I was nursing my first son I knew nothing about good quality nursing bras. All I really knew was that my boobs were bigger and I needed something that would allow easy access for my sweet nursing baby. Regular bras were not going to cut it for very long. It is really awkward to try to get your breast out of a regular bra in an attempt to nurse your child. And not wearing a bra at all is definitely not an option for me. So weeks after G-tot was born—with breastfeeding firmly happening and working out well for the two of us—I went to buy nursing bras.
I was completely clueless. I had no idea what size I really needed. My budget was limited. I was a tired and probably a bit overwhelmed by the fact that I was a first time mom. Somehow I ended up with were two nursing bras that came in an ultra-generic size “large”.
They were the worst bras ever.
But I wore them for 17 long months.
My poor boobs.
When I had Huggy Baby I was determined to get better bras and burn the unsupportive rags I had with G-tot. Months went by and I still had nothing. At home I would wear my maternity tank tops just to avoid having to wear one of those bras already in my possession.
Then the marvelous folks at Leading Lady swooped in and saved my poor unsupported hard-working boobs with their fantastic bras. With their Find Your Fit assistant I was able to get a few nursing bras in my size with underwires, good shoulder straps and glorious support!
Not only are they supportive and in MY size—I mean seriously, what was I thinking buying a bra in a large?—they are pretty. The Black Lace-cup is totally sexy which is a huge bonus in a nursing bra. The square neck nursing bra cami would be perfect for summer. And I absolutely love the little printed pattern on the Baby Sees It bra.
I feel like these bras were kind of an “I’m Sorry/Thank You” gift to my boobs from me. They have been nothing but amazing when it comes to me having the opportunity to breastfeed my children. My boobs deserved better nursing bras .
And they finally have them.
Now I just need to grab some lighter fluid and burn those old bras.
*Disclosure: Leading Lady provided me with nursing bra samples. All opinions are mine.
There is just something about a happy, giggling baby that warms my heart.
It’s infectious really.
I have a hard time not smiling and laughing right along with my children when they get the giggles—regardless of my mood moments before.
Having a bad day? Watch this. Having a good day? Watch this anyway and make it even better.
When you are done and smiling from the joy Huggy Baby exudes during our tickle fest, head over to the Curvy Girl Guide where I’m talking about creating structure in my chaotic life.
24 days old.
I have a new writing gig over at Babble. Now that Huggy Baby is here I’m done writing for Babble.com’s Being Pregnant blog. Makes sense, right? Now I’m writing for their Baby’s First Year blog. I’ll be writing about life with baby number two and the ups and downs of parenting in general. It’s going to be fun.
Here’s what you missed so far.
I make my introduction in The Second Son.
Talk naps—or lack there of in I’m Supposed to Sleep When?.
Boob Pain. It’s real. And it hurts. Oh My Aching Boobs
How much has this baby grown in a month? Checking Up—One Month
One day at a time. Finding Our Normal
I really should get the ball rolling on these things. Especially number one. Five Things I Still Haven’t Done Now That I’m Not Pregnant
Seriously considering learning how to make these. DIY Fleece Childrens Hats
I’d love it if you joined along in my journey.
I had forgotten how painful some things are days after you give birth.
Not how sore you may be from having your stomach cut wide open and a human pulled out from an incision much narrower than the actual human—thankfully skin is has a good amount of elasticity. Or how sore your ladies bit and the resulting episiotomy from having to push another human through a hole that is once again much smaller from the actual human coming out (see prior note about elasticity of the skin).
Instead, how ridiculously painful that initial latch on when breastfeeding can be for the first couple of weeks or so. My toes curl every time Huggy Baby latches on the right side.
Or, how painful that first crap can be after giving birth.
I pooped for the first time on Friday since the morning of my c-section the previous Sunday. Five days without pooping. I don’t suggest you try it.
I do strongly encourage you to take the stool softeners they offer in the hospital. Religiously.
Even with four days of double doses of stool softener in me, my maiden post-birth poop practically made me pass out right there on the toilet.
It was like passing a brick through a keyhole—without the blessed elasticity of skin that my stomach offered me over the last nine months.
Be forewarned: Once you commit to the process you cannot give up. There is no going back.
So brace yourself.
Push like you mean it.
And don’t be surprised when you shed actual tears of relief when it’s over.
It’s 11:22 a.m.
If all goes well and some moron doesn’t set themselves on fire or blow off any of their fingers “celebrating” Labor Day weekend, by this time next week we will be a family of four. I could be in my room eating a post surgery meal and basking in the love of my three guys.
I’m still in shock that we are so close to the end.
I’m also completely unprepared when it comes to having “stuff” for the baby.
I have my boobs.
I have a pack of diapers.
I have some clothes.
That’s good enough, right?
Speaking of boobs, I wrote a letter to mine this week. I also discussed whether or not a porn star should be able to breastfeed in public.
I probably won’t get that pregnancy massage but I will be in for one as soon as I can after giving birth. Along with some new tattoos.
The hospital I’m delivering at has a kick-ass cafeteria. That may be what I’m looking most forward to during my hospital stay. Well, besides the baby of course.
I wonder if they could send wine in one of these care packages?
And these? These make me think I should get to designing some birth announcements sooner than later.
Oh, and since some of you have asked, yes we have a very small registry.
Pooping on the table.
Having to get an epidural.
Those were the two things I feared the most when I headed to the hospital four and a half years ago to give birth to G-tot. After 20+ hours of labor the doctor’s strongly suggested an epidural—which I succumbed to after a mini-nervous breakdown.
A few hours later I still hadn’t progressed enough to push so we went the c-section route. Plus side? No pooping on the table.
I’m nine days away from having another c-section. NINE DAYS. Single digits.
This time I’m scared to leave G-tot behind.
Just thinking about leaving him sleeping in bed early in the morning on September 4th brings tears to my eyes. I know he will be in great hands. I know I will see him as soon as I can. And yet, it won’t be quite the same. I will be coming out of major surgery. He won’t be able to climb up on me and snuggle quite like we will on Saturday night. We will no longer be a family of three.
It will be the end of one chapter of our lives and the beginning of something completely new and unknown. For some reason that makes me weep.
Over the past year and a half I doubted we would ever get to this point. I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to give G-tot a sibling. A comrade. Someone to vent about his dad and me to in years to come.
Now we are just nine days away.
I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it.
I don’t want to stay in the hospital for days this time. I want to leave as soon as possible and be with my family in our own home. I want to start our new life away from IVs and nurses. I want to create our new routine.
I want G-tot to know I will never love him any less than I do in this moment.
I want to not be scared of the next nine days.
I could probably count on one hand the number of times my son has slept in his own bed in the last two or so months—with fingers left over.
It’s not that he won’t, it’s just that we don’t.
We are co-sleepers.
Co-sleeping wasn’t something we planned on doing but rather something that just sort of happened over the last few months. G-tot would climb into our bed in the evening for our nightly story time ritual. After three or four books he would snuggle up to next to me and fall asleep. Do you know how wonderful it is to have your four year old nuzzle into you and drift off to sleep?
Those moments won’t last forever so I would never stop him from doing it.
Early on I would carry my son to his room and tuck him into his bed. In June I was diagnosed with Complete Placenta Previa and unable to lift anything over 10 pounds—including my son. So instead of taking him to bed he slept next to me right on his dad’s pillow.
My husband JQ keeps a much later schedule than we do and I liked having G-tot next to me. When JQ would come to bed hours later he could move G-tot to his own bed if he wanted to. But he didn’t.
Do you know why?
Because JQ wanted to snuggle with G-tot too. He loves those moments as much as I do. So instead of moving him to his own room, JQ would slide G-tot over and crawl in bed next to the two of us. And there the three of us would sleep in our queen size bed. More often than not JQ and I would have little limbs draped across us or end up with just a sliver of the bed to call our own space by morning.
For the most part that has become our routine over the last couple of months.
Does it have to be? No. My Placenta Previa went away and all my restrictions have been removed. I can pick up my son again. I could take him to his bedroom. We could do story time in his room if we really wanted to. JQ could move him at night. But we don’t.
Right now, we are co-sleepers.
“It’s for the baby.”, G-tot declared as he put the sticker on the ever expanding belly of my dress.
Man do I love that boy. Every night and every morning his little hands push around on my belly feeling for Huggy Baby. He hugs my belly and talks to the baby—sometimes really loudly. He is going to such an awesome big brother.
We’ve been reading books together that have to do with bringing another baby into the family. They are sweet and endearing and will often invoke a wide-eyed look from G-tot when we get to the end. As if he is thinking, Hey, that’s going to be me soon.
G-tot has officially decided that he wants the baby to share a room with him. I am constantly humbled by how unselfish this child is that I’m raising. When he outgrows something the first words out of his mouth anymore are, “We can keep this for my baby.”
His baby. Swoon.
I hope his little brother realizes how lucky he is to have G-tot in his life. I know I am.
I needed a picture for my We Can Have Sex—But Will We? post over at Babble (which contains totally exciting news) and this is the one I chose. It is a picture we took on February 12, 2007 when I was just about 35 weeks pregnant with G-tot.
It is one of my all time favorite pregnancy photos. The look on JQ’s face pretty much sums up exactly how we were feeling about becoming new parents in just over a month at that point. Sort of a “holy crap this is really happening” feeling.
Four years later and I still think becoming parents was one of the most remarkable things we have ever done.
Besides almost peeing my pants on the way to the ultrasound this morning, everything was perfect.
All parts: Present and accounted for
Showing us its baby bits? Yep
So what is Huggy Baby?
Besides a thumb sucker that had its hands in front of its face most of the time? Related: How crazy are these 3-D images?
Without a doubt.