Thursday, January 20, 2011

No more russian roulette

DH and I DTD without any birth control about a week after CD 1 and although it was probably waaaay too early for me to ovulate, I freaked out. Who knows what my first cycle after baby would be like, there was actually a real possibility that I could get pregnant. And what I learned from this experience is the following:

I am not ready.

It kept me up some of the night - could I handle it? Would my joyous time with Dom turn into a crazy stressful situation? Would DH resent me? What if me and DH don't work out? I hadn't even gone back to work yet and have no idea how the new 'normal' would be.

I didn't have any fears about parenthood when I embarked on this journey. Why were they cropping up now? I think that in the last few years I've learned not to mess with a good thing. And what I have now is a really good thing.

And then there are the added fears of pregnancy and the baby's health - will I miscarry again, should I get diagnostic testing or risk another 9 months of agonizing worry? I've had to admit to myself lately that if I knew I had a child with chromosomal problems, and my pregnancy was still in the first tri, I would probably terminate. This raises a whole other slew of problems - does DH feel the same way? How could I live with myself if the CVS results came back bad. If I don't get diagnostic testing and my screening results aren't perfect, how will I (and my family) endure my inevitable pre-partum depression. I read some statistic on how babies who are conceived within a year of their older sibling have a higher risk of SIDS. So that would worry me too. That's how I am.

Point is, I'm scared.

So I even went as far as taking Plan B. I am that risk averse.

I hope I get over this - I'd really like to have two kids. Once I get back to work and things become routine I know I could figure out a way to handle it. It's worth it to me. But I don't know when and if I'll ever be able to cope with the uncertainties of it all again. And I don't want to wait too long. Because as time passes after Dom's first birthday the fears will increase - I'm no spring chicken.

Right now things are good. I don't have any major fears or uncertainties. I'm enjoying life. Enjoying my baby. Why do we always want what we don't have? Why can't we just be satisfied with what we do? I'm going to give it a try for the next 5-6 months and then revisit the second kid question.

Monday, January 17, 2011

My feet shrunk

My maternity leave ends mid-week next week. I could not be more depressed about that, but that's a whole 'nother post. I was trying on pre-pregnancy clothes in anticipation of going back to work, and get this - my old stand-by pumps are falling off of my heels when I walk. I look like a little girl traipsing around in my mother's heels. What?! Is this possible?

I know what you're thinking, I must have stretched out my shoes while I was pregnant. But I'm dubious. I didn't swell much at all during pregnancy and I'm talking about heels that I didn't wear past the first trimester - some I didn't wear at all while I was pregnant. I have some flats that I wore in later trimesters and they did stretch a little, but that doesn't explain the heels. It also doesn't explain why, before pregnancy I was a size 5.5-6 and today I tried on 3 different pairs of shoes, different brands, and the only sizes that fit in each of these three shoes were size 5's! I don't have any size fives at home. Except for the pair I bought today.

This is really weird. I am a little under my pre-pregnancy weight...but only a few pounds. I've weighed less before and it hasn't affected my shoe size. My only other theory is that it's winter. My fingers get skinnier when it's cold - I can tell because my rings feel big. So maybe my feet are smaller too. But I've been through winter before too.

Has anyone else had this problem? I already have a "fat days" wardrobe and am finding it kind of annoying (and expensive) to have to maintain a "skinny days" shoe collection. Not to mention how much it sucks when I've got an outfit all figured out in my head and when I go to put it on with the five minutes I'll have to get dressed in the morning going forward - surprise! shoes don't fit.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

CD 1, apparently

No joke. AF showed up out of nowhere. Weird. I don't feel like I've changed my breastfeeding routine much since the end of Dom's first month when he started sleeping through the night. He's sleeping about 12 hours now and I don't pump during that time so I could see how my body could downgrade its milk production and decide that it's time to start cycling again, but if that's the reason for this unexpected visitor...why did it take until month 5?

I can't really figure out why this is happening. Anyone have any intel on this? I haven't done much research. Dom has started eating baby food but I don't think I breastfeed any less. Another thing it could be is that I get dehydrated. I've taken to having a glass of wine (or two) after Dom goes to bed since I know I have a solid 10 hours before I have to feed him. And I'm not a big fan of water so I'm sure my milk production isn't at its full potential anyway. Does AF mean my production is going to decrease even more? I'm starting to wonder if it's even worth pumping when I go back to work in two weeks. It's SUCH a big production - all the extra time out during the day and spending evenings cleaning equipment, sterilizing, etc. But the benefits are also huge. I think I'll give it a try and see how it goes.

So by the looks of it, I'm probably cycling. And I'm also sleeping in the same bed as my husband lately. Which raises an interesting question: To go back on the pill...or to not go back on the pill. We've played Russian roulette a few times since Dimitri was born, thinking the chances of pregnancy were super low. But with AF here, that indicates that the chances have increased quite a bit. Like we really need to decide if we want a second baby. And if so, how soon.

I definitely want a second one. Dom is one of those babies that convinces parents that kids are easy peasy and nothing but joy. And then the second one is a holy terror. And then both kids eventually turn two and you have no idea what you were thinking. Ditto when they turn 14. But for some reason, my gut is saying - have two. I want to grow old with a larger family. I love being a mom. But I don't think we can afford a lot of kids - two is a good happy medium. DH is still undecided about the second one. Everyone in our lives is telling us have two. NO ONE has ever offered the opinion that one is the perfect number. I did learn a valuable lesson with that second furbaby though. Which was: Don't blindly forge ahead with plans designed to make your life more complicated. THINK THEM THROUGH. Going with your gut is not always the best idea. On the other hand trusting my gut worked like a charm for child #1. If I had waited until DH was ready instead of forging ahead and putting the pressure on and not taking "no" for an answer, we never would have ended up with our beautiful baby. Now, putting aside for a minute the inherent problems in a marriage where spouse #1 has to figuratively beat spouse #2 over the head in order to get a baby out of him, why should things be any different with the second child.

Obviously there are pros and cons to two kids versus one. And their are pros and cons to waiting to have number two. And maybe it makes sense to go back on the pill while we sort these issues out (not to mention that we can't just "put aside" the fact that DH and I may not be compatible long term). But on the other hand, if we are both more or less on board with having a second one...I'm not convinced there is much harm in throwing caution to the wind for a while. There's obviously no guarantee of anything happening. And if something does, well, we'll have to focus on the pros to having babies back-to-back.

...or we could just wait and enjoy the time with Dom and without the furbaby that we adopted out, and with the newfound peace and fun in our relationship. Things are pretty good right now. And that crazy dog is the one who taught me not to take times like this for granted. It's funny how sometimes your worst nightmare can, in time, become one of life's greatest blessings.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Happy New Year's indeed

The New Year is actually off to a good start. DH drove the dog to another friend's place on New Year's Eve. From the beginning this arrangement looked more promising. The family is large and really wanted a dog. They were committed to "making this work," their words. The wife stays home and there are four (older) kids in the family so there would be no shortage of attention for the dog, who would get to be out and about with the family all day instead of locked up in a single room for 10 hours like she was at our place. So far so good. The furbaby has not only proven to be her adaptable, loving, loyal self but she hasn't had any aggressive responses to her normal triggers (a giant cable guy came to the door and apparently her response was to bark and wag her tail). It's like the new environment, paired with being the only dog, has really improved her demeanor. I know dogs' behavior can get worse once they settle into a new home and have a chance to get territorial, but I'm optimistic. DH continued to mope around and not sleep in our bedroom when he got home on NYE. I was still thinking there was a 50/50 chance we would end up still married by the end of 2011. Probably less than that at this point.

But then there was a shift. I don't know if he had just gotten used to fhe drill of giving her up or if he was more comfortable with the new arrangement, but he let it go. Little by little, he started to warm back up to me and our life together and our future. New Year's day he was back in our bedroom for the first time in a couple months, he said "let's start the new year off right," he made a couple demands of me like "if we're going to stay together you need to come up with a budget." Mostly because I want things like another kid and a bigger house and the occasional vacation and for him everything comes down to money. He hates his job and wants to make sure I'm doing my part to achieve my goals.... I'm a little bitter that he's still blaming me for every turn our lives take and every proactive decision to do anything (like a 2d kid or a vacation) and holding me accountable for the $'s and the results, bad or good. Like he swears he could do without vacation. Really? Do I want to spend my life with someone like that? But I could stand to pay more attention to how much I'm spending. So we're taking it a step at a time.

He's been incredibly good to me lately, incredibly helpful around the house, great with Dom, although he will not stop talking about how much he misses the furbaby. I tell him I know, it's the worst thing I've ever done - making him go through this - but I also say that I don't regret it, that it was the right decision, that it's clearly better for the dog (not to mention for us and our other dog), and I leave it at that. He's the kind of person who takes a while to come around to things, but I have a feeling that one day he will understand how obviously right it was to do things my way. I just wish it hadn't taken 4 months of me being seriously clinically depressed for him to take that first step.

Dom is great, ever the love of my life. I have really grown to appreciate the CPC scare. Envisioning life with a T18 child really put things in perspective. No amount of dirty diapers or screaming in public could ever compare to having your child's life taken too soon and I feel I am a better parent for having gone through my bout of pre-partum depression.

As I near the end of my maternity leave (I have two weeks left) I am noticing that my days of taking him out and about are numbered anyway. I spent 6 hours at the mall with a friend this weekend - we did pedicures and lunch and shopping and coffee - it was a blast and Dom was SO good. But my parents were thinking about a trip to a museum in the city next weekend and that seems patently impossible. The mall is one thing - there are changing tables and places to feed him, etc. But there are some places that just won't work they way they might have when he was a newborn. And even these day trips I've been making will probably be close to impossible once he starts moving around on his own and once he needs more than a hanging stuffed animal to keep him entertained. This is one of the things I tell myself to try to make myself less miserable about going back to work. Oh how I wish I liked my job.

I'm going to try to not obsess over the differences between my husband and I and just live life more in the present for a while. And I've come up with some New Year's Resolutions to keep myself busy (ha ha).

1. Moisturize!
2. work on my posture
3. come out of every store with only the things I went in for.
4. No new bags for the rest of 2011. Seriously.
5. Ditto for shoes
6. For those of you who think I'm being too hard on myself, I got both a new bag and a new pair of shoes in January. And I have plenty of both, believe me.
7. When something new comes in, something else has gotta go
8. Organize!
9. Budget!
10. Related to #9, eat out less. Starbucks OR Rubio's. Not Starbucks AND Rubio's.
11. Write an article for work
12. Donate and return with abandon
13. Stay on top of my photo library