It's been a while...

Yup. It's definitely been a long time since I've posted. I think the last time I posted was around my birthday, back in January.
A lot has happened during this time.

1. I turned 30. And with that, a lot of thinking and soul searching transpired. Of course, I also got diagnosed with post-partum depression on my birthday. But with the beginning of a new era - oops, decade...I decided to make some changes. Realizing that I was slowly wasting my precious time "bumping", I stopped - pretty much cold turkey. I lurk ever so often, but the dynamics of the boards have changed so much, and I'm not sure I like it. Also, I was bumping all night long, while Keith watched tellie. Not good. I found myself bumping while nursing. Obviously a great way to pass the time when Alec is glued to my boobs, but when I allow it to take time away from housework while Alec is sleeping, that's no good! I also felt as though I was being sucked into this surreal world of women who I most likely will never meet, and who won't hesitate to stab you in the back in favour of someone else. I've seen it done.

2. I'm working. Yup. You read right. I'm actually working! Granted, it's a temp job, and will be over sooner than that I'd wish it for, but it's gotten me out of the house, Alec into daycare, and is basically putting my brain to use. I honestly felt a disconnect from my own self that I'd never felt before, so when the temp agency I had signed up for, called with an assignment, I jumped on it.

3. As you may have guessed from the above, Alec is FINALLY nursing like a pro! All of my hard work and struggles with dealing with the low milk supply and Alec not latching and/or wanting to nurse? They paid off.

Caveat to working? Alec won't nurse for the first few hours that I'm home from work, but he'll nurse at night. All night. Yup. All.night.long. He will wake up at midnight. He will wake up 1am, 2am, 3am, 4am and 5am. Sometimes he'll go a few hours, but lately he's been waking up quite a few times a night. It's driving us nuts! But when he wakes up in the morning, he's all smiles. So we love it. It makes it all better.

4. I had my first night out without Keith and Alec. Last week. Yup. It took me six (yes...6....SIX!!!) months to feel comfortable enough to do this. I went out to dinner with the BFF and her friends for her birthday, and I left Alec at home with daddy. They probably just had a blast. I had fun. I did miss Alec. It's tough enough to be away from him during the day. And I'm about to do it again tomorrow night, except Daddy is going out, too, so my mother in law is watching him. Not my first choice, but Keith asked her first.

5. I bought the Power90 workout videos. I've done it once.

6. I got my iPhone!

OK. No more numbers.

And last but not least, my other BFF is about t o give birth to Alec's future girlfriend any.day.now. We are so excited and can't wait to meet Sienna!

Saturday musings...

I don't really know what to talk about. I just know that after I posted my last entry, I felt so much better having let out some of my feelings.

Alec is taking one of his nice, long naps (I usually get one GOOD nap out of him per day), and Keith is out at the grocery store.

We had an odd week. My car decided to leave me (and Alec) stranded at the Babies 'R Us in Danbury (thank goodness it wasn't the Waterbury one!!). Keith came to the rescue, and then my best friend's husband came to rescue with tools. Turns out, it wasn't even the battery (duh...jumping it wasn't working!), but the starter. Yay. We paid more money to have it towed to the family mechanic's place, than to actually have the damn thing fixed. It cost us $160.00 to get the Jeep towed from Danbury to Seymour (roughly 23 miles), and it cost us $155.00 to get a new starter put in - labour included. Of course, this guy doesn't charge us storage fees, and gives us a really good break on the labour. Which is why we trust him to not gouge us with fees, and to do a good job.

Since the Jeep was out of commission from Saturday through Wednesday, I did go a bit stir-crazy. I went out, but very little. I had Keith's car Monday night, having gone to a job interview (no, I haven't heard anything), and Wednesday, my friend Dina came by for a little bit with her little girl; and we went to get the Jeep that night, and had dinner at my father in law's house. Thursday was a tough day. I really didn't want to do anything, after that horrible dream I had on Wednesday night. Yesterday, we had a busy day, Alec and I. We had a playdate with my friend Dina again, and then booked it to my physical (where I got two shots, ouchies!), and then to visit our other friend, Lindsay, to bring her some birthday cookies.

I guess it did feel good to externalize my feelings. Maybe that dream was a wake-up call that I needed to get myself out there.

This weekend, we're seeing two sets of dear friends, and during my down-time, I plan on looking for a playgroup or two in my area, as well as signing Keith and me for AAA. That tow job was highway robbery!

In more normal, and happier matters, Alec has his 4 month check-up on February 3. Where did time go? He's definitely getting bigger, catching up to all of his contemporaries (i.e. my Bumpie friends' babies). He fits into all of 0-3 clothing, as well as most of 3-6 months. I am totally addicted to cloth diapering. I'm so glad we made the decision to cloth diaper. Not only are they cute as hell on Alec's little butt, but we're not contributing to landfills anymore than we have to. I mean, we still use disposable diapers at night at this point, since we still need to get more hemp inserts, as well as more diapers that can do the 'night shift'. We also use disposables when out and about. We do, however, use the Earth's Best diapers, which are chlorine-free, so they're a bit better. On average, we use maybe 10 disposable diapers a week. Far better than the 50 we would be using. I will also be attempting to make some diapers. Yup. You heard me. MAKE the diapers....by sewing them...!

Anyway, I'm trying maintain some sanity here. Maybe keeping myself busy with some playdates, playgroup activities, and some sewing and knitting will help me stay busy. I mean, Keith is an amazing husband, and father. He is supportive, patient with me and awesome with Alec. I think there is only so much he can do, though....He has a lot on his plate. But that's a story for another post.

I had a dream...

Last night, I dreamed a dream that was so disturbing, both in its content, as well as my own ability to dream up such madness. I think about it, and I begin to cry.

Now, lately, I've been having a rough time keeping up with life in general. It is tough with an infant, but I would never, ever, place my own child in harm's way. Never. I can't stress that enough [to myself]. This dream disturbed me so much that when Alec woke up for his nightly feeding at around 5:00a.m., this morning, I held him after he was done eating. I squeezed him as though it was the last time I was to be able to hold him. And I cried out of sheer fear.

Luckily, I had my yearly check-up this morning with my ob-gyn. I told him about my dream, and how I have had, in past few weeks, several dreams that were slightly disturbing in nature, such as the one I had last night. I am sure that I would have called for help had I not had this appointment today.

After I answered a few questions, he told me "Monica, I'm afraid you are an ideal example of post-partum depression (PPD), and I'd like you to contact a psychiatrist so that we can get you the therapy and medication you need."

This blew me away, I knew I have been hormonal - obviously...I had a baby almost 4 months ago, and my body and mind are still adapting. But I never realized that what I have been feeling were symptoms of depression.

I can't hold it in anymore at this point. I have tried so very hard to be the strong woman that Keith fell in love with; not to show how I feel, how isolated and lonely I feel 99% of the time and I struggle to maintain a happy face so he doesn't worry about me. I have to admit to myself, to Keith and to Alec, that I am not perfect, that I have my weak points and limitations as to what I can withstand as a human being.

This dream that I had last night, was so real, and so vivid; that when I first woke up, I bolted upright to make sure Alec was still safe and sound in his bassinet. I am still thinking of that image of opening a locker door, and finding my almost-4 month old lying face-down on the cold, hard floor of the locker, still crying, with tears running down his face, having been abandoned by me. I still can't believe that I would be capable of even just dreaming of placing my baby in a locker.

On one hand, I can't get the dream out of my head, but I am glad I had it on one hand. It made me realize that I had to talk to someone.

Never in my wildest dreams, would I have ever thought that new motherhood could be such a painful, isolating phase of my life. Throughout my pregnancy, I always imagined that it would come so easily to me. I sometimes feel as though I am failing miserably - hell, I can't even nurse my child adequately without taking a boatload of herbs and medication to help me lactate so that I can make almost enough milk. I never realized that I would feel so isolated from the world, so lonely most of the time. I barely know what day it is anymore, unless I look at the calendar, and although I have my dear friends whom I see on a semi-regular basis, Alec and I stay at home most of the time. I talk on the phone a lot to some of my friends, and this helps me somewhat, but something always suffers when I do that. Either the floors don't get swept, laundry doesn't get done, or the bed doesn't get made. Alec is always well taken care of, but sometimes I forget to shower and brush my teeth.

I love it when Keith has snow days from school, or when he's home, because I can feel human again, having another adult to talk to. I know he wants the best for me, for us, his family. I know he wants me to speak to somebody about how I feel...I'm proud of myself for admitting that I'm not made of steel, or invincible, and making an appointment to speak to a psychiatrist.

Dear 2010, I shall miss thee

It's January 3, 2011, and I can't believe how much my life has changed in the past year. It took one year to get pregnant and have a baby, lose a job, get married, and gain a larger family.

On February 9, 2010, I took a test to which the results were to be life-altering.

On April 26, 2010, I lost my job for [known] reasons still unknown to me.

On August 15, 2010, I married the person who completes me.

On September 30, 2010, I gave birth to the most beautiful, most perfect tiny human being I've ever had the grace of knowing.

It was a life-changing, name-changing and humbling year for me. For the better, of course. Although I can honestly say that a pregnant woman with no job, is a disaster waiting to happen. Asides from going on countless interviews, submitting hundreds of resumes and cover letters, and scouring the internet looking for a company who might hire a pregnant lady; I read, blogged and bumped a lot. I met a few women who have turned into some great friends. I read countless pregnancy books, watched hundreds of birthing videos, and basically...freaked myself out, as well as worry my now-hubby, with my 'fountain of knowledge', as I like to call it. Oh...and the stories of drama on The Bump.

When Keith and I found out that I was pregnant, our first reaction was "holy shit, what are we going to do?!" and "how the hell did this happen?" Well, we knew 'how' it happened...we were just stupified that it happened while on birth control. We went from debating on whether or not to get married, to deciding that we didn't care about what society considered 'normal', to saying we would tie the knot after the baby was born, to worrying about money and preparation, etc., etc.

Fast forward to April, when I lost my job. I'm still relatively sure that I was fired because I was pregnant, and new on the job (I had only started in October 2009). But...who knows? It sucked royally for the remainder of my pregnancy trying to find a job. I landed countless interviews, but as soon as they realized I was pregnant (how can you hide that?!?!), they would kind of shoo me and in and out, and not even call me back. We worried a bit about how we were going to survive on one income, but things have worked out - we just have to be careful.

In July, we decided that - or better yet, I decided for us - that this child was NOT going to come out into this world to an unmarried mother. I just decided that there was too much stigma surrounding an unwed mother, that Lentil (as he was then known as) was going to stay in my tummy until we were hitched. So we planned a smallish wedding for August. To this day, we're still dealing with a few upset friends and family who weren't invited and are now offended.

So, on August 15, 2010, Keith and I were married by a Justice of the Peace. My parents flew in from San Francisco and St. Louis, his parents and step-mom were there, as well as his sister, and step-siblings. I had my two best friends and their families. We also invited one of his aunts, and one of his uncles. It was a perfect day, with the exception of the humidity.

Fast forward to September. My [surprise] baby shower was on September 19th. My best friend put it together with my mother-in-law and step-mother-in-law. I think my mum had a hand in it, too - but unfortunately couldn't make it. She had already come here to visit back in June, and then again for the wedding, and knew she wanted to come when Lentil arrived. I was beginning to freak out, because I didn't know about the shower, and knew Lentil's due date was fast approaching. Little did we know...little did we know.

A week after the shower, I was induced. Lentil was born on September 30, 2010 at 6:19 a.m. Alec Keith Maciog was born 3 weeks early via induction due to 3 factors: (a) almost no fluid in my amniotic sac, (b) poor circulation through his cord, and (c) smallish measurements. It took our OB thinking that my tummy was measuring small and ordering an ultrasound to find this out. I thank my stars every day for this. Had he not seen this, the technician wouldn't have seen it, we would not have been sent to labour and delivery and then sent to a perinatologist for an in-depth ultrasound.

My induction took 36 hours. As soon as I realized I was being induced, I realized I was not going to be able to go med-free. To be honest, I had no clue what I was up against, and I was more worried about having to undergo a C-section, then begging for an epidural...which I did. With contractions coming one minute apart, and peaking off the monitor, for about 4 hours, I realized I couldn't do it. I was shaking when I screamed for an epidural, and the anesthesiologist was in my room within 20 minutes.

Alec was born 9 hours later. No C-section needed. I thank the hospital staff for handling my labour so perfectly. I went in at 37 weeks gestation, without a single iota of progression towards natural delivery. I was not favourable, and in fact, the OB later told me he was worried I would end up in a section. Yay for me!

When people tell you that motherhood is the toughest job in the world, they're not joking.

Alec is 3 months old. I have just gone through the most humbling experience of my life. I have had to depend on Keith as my rock, my shoulder to cry on. I have held my child in arms, trying to make him stop crying. I have struggled with breastfeeding. I'm still struggling. Each day gets better, and Alec is more patient with my low supply. We still supplement, and I have a feeling we always will.

I look at Alec, and I see myself, as well as Keith. I see yesterday, today and tomorrow in his eyes. I see this tiny little human being, someone Keith and I created....from scratch! How can a few cells grow into something so perfect?

Every day, Alec learns something new. Or we learn something new. He is a morning baby. He wakes me up in the mornings by cooing and talking to himself from inside his bassinet...which is still next to my side of the bed. We're all set up for him to go in his crib in his nursery - but yet I can't bring myself to do that just yet. He recently just started raising his arms when he knows he's going to be picked up. I love that. He smiles when we talk to him.

My body is not back to normal yet. I can fit into a few pairs of jeans, but I have to use a hair-band to hold them up. I can't wait to start running again. I would love to be able to wear my clothes normally...my boobs got bigger about a month ago, I think when my milk supply went up a little bit. So my shirts are definitely too short right now. But hey, I live in yoga pants and t-shirts.

Now...if only I can stop buying all these cloth diapers, we'll be good.

2010 also brought some loss to a few people I care a lot about. A dear 'bumpie' friend of mine gave birth to a stillborn at 37 weeks. Another dear person lost her baby at 15 weeks gestation. Someone else I hold dear to my heart almost left her newborn son without a mommy right after delivery.

So, my resolution for this New Year, is absolutely no resolution. It's to live life one day at a time, and enjoy Alec while he's still small.

Random thoughts

Alec is almost 6 weeks old.

I have finally come to the realization that I'm a stubborn ass. Ass as in donkey sense of the word. Sometimes, being stubborn has served me well, and has helped me accomplish things that I wouldn't have been able to otherwise. But other times....well...

I *just* called the lactation consultant at the hospital today. I explained that although I have been pumping steadily every 3 hours or so since the first week, my milk supply still leaves A LOT to be desired. By the end of the day, I'm lucky if I can collect a whopping total of 2.5 ounces from both breasts. Alec has only been latching successfully for about 2 weeks now, so he does get nursed (usually) before every feeding with formula. Unless we're out of the house, or when people are over at our house. What can I say? I am a new mum, and very shy and a little on the insecure side about mine and Alec's ability to nurse properly. Even with my mum in town, it was tough for me, as at that point, Alec still wasn't latching without the aid of a nipple shield.

After telling all of this to the Consultant, she basically just let me know that unfortunately, I am just stuck with a low milk supply. But she said to stick with the pumping because then I will give Alec whatever little breastmilk I can. What I can't fathom, is how in the world am I going to keep doing this, without losing my mind!? It's already starting to take a toll on me. I hate it that I can't provide nourishment to my child. I actually can't stand it. I asked her about Reglan (booster for milk supply), and she said that in my case, it wouldn't work.

Anyway...so that's my bitchfest for the week.

In happier news, we had Alec's one month check-up last Wednesday. Our Royal Tininess is no longer so tiny! He weighed in at 7 pounds, 9 ounces (remember, he was born weighing 5 pounds), and is now measuring 20 inches long. Alec changes and grows every passing day. He's now outgrowing some of his newborn-sized clothes....eeek! He eats really well, and is essentially a nice and chill baby.

4 Weeks Old! (well...almost.)

Tomorrow marks Alec's 4-week birthday. And Saturday, he will officially be one month old.

Time if flying here in our household. I don't even know where it's going.

Ok...well, I do. Kinda. Alec is all-time-consuming. Even though he's a VERY easy baby (so far...I'm hoping I don't jinx myself), he still has to eat every 2-3 hours, sometimes cluster-feeds (a/k/a eating every.single.hour...or more often than that), poops and pees a lot, and just generally is so adorable that I stare at him all day long.

Alec has 1,001 different facial expressions, and 1,002 different little sounds and noises he makes while crying, sleeping, in the middle of pooping, bath-time and his varying states of alertness. Mr. M and I were very fortunate to have been able to have a photographer take Alec's pictures when he was only a week old. Here are a few of the pictures.


As you see, Alec was very alert even though he was only a week old at the time these pictures were taken.

So many milestones to recount, and so many more to come. Alec loves his tummy time on Daddy's chest when he comes from work; he just cozies up to him. He's capable of holding his head up for quite a long time for such a Tininess. Mommy has learned to identify the sound of his cry when he's hungry, when he's pissy or cranky and just wants to cry...or when he's uncomfortable, cold or hot.

Just a sneak preview here, though. We're still getting used to having the camera at arm's reach at all times, and to Alec's timetable, as well as everything parenthood entails. It's difficult. It's rewarding.

And we wouldn't trade it for the world.

Surprise!!

Whomever said that nothing in life is a surprise anymore, is full of crap.

Lentil (a/k/a Alec Keith) was born on Thursday, September 30, 2010 at 6:19 a.m. He wasn't due to arrive until October 20, 2010.

Hmph.

As you all know, my doctor was beginning to have inklings that I may have been measuring too small for the timing of pregnancy, so he scheduled me for a growth ultrasound. During the ultrasound, the technician commented that Lentil's size was fine, but she was questioning the [lack of] amniotic fluid she was able to see. She sent us to the waiting room, and had a conversation with my doctor. In turn, we were sent for, and the doctor basically told us to go straight to labour and delivery. He mentioned low fluids, and the fact that he had no problem with delivering me that very night should the non-stress test at labour and delivery show any fetal distress or anything of the sort.

The longest 5 minutes of my life were spent going from the doctor's office to the hospital (right up the street) and actually walking through the doors of labour and delivery. There, they hooked me up to a non-stress test to monitor the baby's heart-rate for about 20 minutes or so. They then performed another ultrasound, and managed to find a few more pockets of amniotic fluid. All in all, they told us that although my fluids were very low, they were hesitant to induce me - my cervix hadn't even begun to soften or dilate yet; so labour would have very likely been a 3-day long induction. So they released me, with instructions to meet with a perinatologist the next day for another (more in depth) ultrasound and consultation as to induction.

Needless to say, Mr. M, who had been under the weather for a few days at that point, got the 'health' scared back into him. I think it was at this point, that we realized that we were completely unprepared for the tiny life growing inside of me. But holy crap! We thought we had a good three weeks left to finish all the preparations!

Tuesday morning, I think I became a mad woman. In a frenzy, I cleaned the bathroom, did all the dirty laundry, cleaned the kitchen, living room and bedroom. I went to Target to pick up a few last-minute essentials...you know, diapers, wipes, more onesies, etc.

Unfortunately for both of us, Mr. M wasn't able to attend the appointment with the perinatologist. The only time they had available to see me, was at the same time Mr. M had a meeting with a parent. So I went alone, and let me tell you: it was probably the most emotionally draining and difficult hour for me. They did another ultrasound. The doctor, who I might add was absolutely fabulous in his explanations, basically explained that I had little to no amniotic fluid.

Not just that. He added to the laundry list. Lentil was measuring very small...about 2 full pounds under the 'average' inside baby for 37 weeks. Oh. He also happened to mention that the blood flow to Lentil through the umbilical cord was horrible.

I called Mr. M and put him on the phone with the doctor for this news - I'm not that great at sharing bad news like that, and since I have no head for science, I knew I would most likely botch it.

At this point, the perinatologist ordered me (and yes, he ORDERED me) to go directly to labour and delivery. I told him I had to go home, and pack and meet Mr. M. He said ok - but wanted me back at the hospital within three hours.

I went home. Mr. M and I packed our hospital suitcase. We drove to the hospital and checked into labour and delivery by 6pm.

By 7pm, Tuesday, September 28, 2010, they had me hooked up to fluids, pitocin drip and on all the monitors imaginable to mankind. After giving me about two hours' worth of heavy contractions, they deemed Lentil to be strong enough to withstand labour, and threw the idea of a Cesarean Section out the window. Yes, they considered this, since he was so small. I had to let them know that I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions for months...contractions were nothing to Lentil!

They took me off the pitocin at around 9:00 p.m. that night, and gave me some kind of contraption to soften my cervix, since I wasn't dilated at all at this point.

I still had the monitors on my belly. They had to monitor Lentil's heart-rate, as well as my contractions. Lentil kept on kicking at the little thingies attached my tummy, moving around and making the nurses rush into my room because they had lost his heartbeat. Lemme tell ya. Sleeping in a semi-sitting position, with monitors on me, is a PAIN IN THE ASS. Not to mention, being checked every hour.

Enter Wednesday morning. Contractions were coming and going - not really painful, but perceptible enough to make me think or say "hmmm...this is annoying". At around 9 that morning, the doctor came in and checked me - I was 50% effaced, but only 1cm dilated. She took away the cervix softener, and an hour later I was back on pitocin.

Mr. M went home at this point, to grab a few things we'd forgotten as well as to pay attention to Apollo. The poor guy was supposed to go to our friends' house for a few days, but since everything happened so suddenly, it just wasn't possible! The Puppy was a trooper, though!

At around noon or so, I started to feel contractions again that were somewhere between annoying and borderline painful. They weren't regular yet, so the nurse came in every hour to check on me, and increase the dosage of pitocin.

By 6:00 p.m., when the doctor came back to check on me, I was only 2cm dilated, and 60% effaced. By this point, the contractions were coming fast. Fast and HARD. I couldn't sit still, I couldn't do my breathing because I would have started hyperventilating. They were coming 3-4 minutes apart...AND I had that nasty, obnoxious and abhorred back labour. I begged for something to take the edge off; since I wanted to wait until I was 4-6cm dilated to break down and scream for an epidural. Honestly, though, who was I bloody kidding? So, at around 6:30pm, they gave me Fentanyl. That was some good stuff. Mr. M took advantage and went to the cafeteria to get something to eat while I was floating in the nether from it. By 7ish, though, the Fentanyl lost its edge, and the contractions were getting more and more painful with each minute that went by.

At about 9:00 pm, I begged and cried for the epidural...and it was all over and done with by 9:30. In the middle of the stupid needle being inserted, the mother of all contractions hit, and I almost died trying to sit still! But? I got through it, and within minutes of everything being taken care of, I felt no more pain.

At this point, my doctor came in to check on me, and having found that I hadn't progressed effacement and dilation-wise, she decided to break my water. Well...whatever was left of it inside my uterus.

Once this happened, things started to move forward a bit faster. I began to dilate and efface a bit faster, and since they had me on the epidural, they decided to monitor my contractions and Alec's heart-rate internally. I managed to get a little more sleep.

That is...until the nurse rushed in at around 2:00 a.m. because Alec's heart-rate had dropped severely. She placed me on the oxygen mask, and made me move around in the bed. It was tough. I couldn't move my legs without assistance, and the first thought going through my mind was that they were going to throw me onto the operating table for a section. After a while of trying to get Alec's heart-rate back up, the nurse went and got the doctor who ordered that my uterus be filled up (again) with saline solution.

I take it that this made Alec go "ahhhh....I can swim again...I'm happy". Heart-rate back up, Mommy back to sleep. But this ordeal lasted a good hour. I had already woken Mr. M up, and so we were both worried about how this delivery would end up. Neither of us wanted me to end up with a C-Section, although we both wanted a healthy baby.

Towards 5:00 a.m., I started to feel the sensation that I was ready to push, and so the doctor came in to check on me at about quarter till six, and said that I was fully dilated.

They set up the room, pulled out all the machines (and yes, they are scary-looking!), took away the foot of my bed. I woke up Mr. M again. It was time.

At 6:19 a.m., Thursday, September 30, 2010, Alec Keith M was born. I pushed for a whopping total of 7 minutes, maybe three or four times. It was tough, trying not to push with my facial muscles, but with my abdominal muscles. But I did it!

It was an amazing feeling. I didn't feel any pain...just pressure. Mr. M, who had been adamant throughout the pregnancy that he would NOT cut the umbilical cord or look 'down there', did both. As Alec's head was crowning, the doctor, nurse and obstetrics resident asked Mr. M if he wanted to look at it. To this day, he swears that it was the fuzziness, the fact that he was just waking up that induced him to take a peek, but he did it. He was really surprised that what he saw was this head full of black hair peeking out! Not only did he do this, but when Alec was done being pushed out, the doctor just handed him the scissors and just asked him to cut the cord. Not IF he wanted to cut it...but just...'cut it, dude'.

Mr. M was given the chance to announce the sex of our first-born child. He will always be proud of the moment when he said "I see balls". He was given a chance to see a live birth in progress, one of the most beautiful things anyone can experience. I am so proud of him. He was there with me from the beginning of the induction till the end, with the exception of a few hours to go home to check on Apollo, and to take a decent shower. He held my hand when my contractions were enough to send me over the edge, and I wasn't sure I could go any longer. He stroked my hair, and lost sleep. He was my rock.

I wouldn't have been able to do this without him.

Due to the fact that he was born weighing a whopping total of 5 pounds (yes...5. Even), Alec was whisked onto the heating and check-out area immediately after birth, where he pronounced healthy. I didn't get to hold him until about 45 minutes after he was born.

Although I tried nursing him as soon as I was able to hold him, I wasn't able to. He did take a bottle of formula, though. After this, the nurse took him to the nursery, where they performed all the rest of the health testing. Mr. M went with them, while another nurse stayed with me, and helped me make sure I was capable of moving. They had taken out the epidural equipment soon after Alec was born, but they wanted to make sure I was able to walk without wobbling, and go to the bathroom. HOLY SHIT. That hurt. I was not aware that after almost 12 hours of being catheterized, it would hurt so much to go pee normally! But? I was able to walk. Perfectly. So I was able to walk down from Labour and Delivery to the Family Center. I felt so odd, but proud as I walked down the corridors wearing nothing but my hospital gown and slippers. I made it through labour and delivery, and was able to walk soon thereafter.

The rest of our stay at the hospital was pretty normal. Alec, being so tiny, was miraculously allowed to room-in with us. Every time they wheeled him out to the nursery for testing, or shots, I felt this heaviness in my heart. Neither Mr. M or I liked it when this happened. This is why we roomed in with him. We also felt that regardless of whether or not he was sleeping in our room, our sleep would be interrupted anyway, for feedings. I also think it was Night Number 2 with Alec, that we got peed on for the first time, and had I not been swift with the washcloth, I would have been pooped on, as well...all of this, at 3:00 a.m.

This past week has humbled me beyond reason. Alec has been taking his sweet time in learning how to latch at my boob, so I have to use what I call my 'third nipple' so that he can nurse for a little bit before we must supplement with formula. The most difficult part of this is, even if he latched on beautifully, my milk supply is horrible - and I mean HORRIBLE. Alec feeds for 5 minutes, and he's still starving. When I pump, I'm lucky to get an ounce of milk from both boobs. Alec is taking 2 ounces of formula at this point.

I have also managed to cry more frequently in this past week than I did my entire pregnancy. Everything and anything is making me cry. When I think about my milk supply, I cry. When I think that I can't be a wife to my husband, I cry. When I'm in pain because I'm still recuperating, I cry. When I realize that my physical limitations are far more right now than while I was pregnant, I cry. I cry out of sheer exhaustion.

I guess my most important crying is done while I sit there, with Alec in my lap or arms, and I marvel at the simple perfection that Mr. M and I have created. This life, this little bundle of love that was born, under imperfect circumstances due to unknown reasons, three weeks early. We call him our Royal Tininess. We loved him before he was born, and now that he's here on Earth, we love him even more.