Panera Fail

Last weekend was the first weekend J and I were "on our own" for dinner. Friends have graciously prepared meals for us since Finn's birth. The time had come, though, for life to return to normal. Friday night we tag teamed to make a classic meal - spaghetti, salad and garlic bread. A feast! But, neither of us were going to make food Saturday, and I'd had my fill of PBJ's, toast and salad.

It was 7p. We were both hungry and just happened to be walking around the mall. We looked at each other, "Panera?"

Now, I'm not one for eating out. One, it's fatty. You have no control over what you are eating and the nutritional content. Two, it's expensive, and I'm as frugal (Justin says cheap) as they come. I would just rather eat a home cooked meal. Sue me. (Well, don't because that will cost money.)

As Justin loaded up sweet Finn and pulled the car around, I ordered.

"I'd like to order two you pick 2 meals, please," I said.

I placed my order, indicating a whole grain baugette for both orders as the side. "I'm sorry, we're out of whole grain baugettes." In my head, I'm thinking, this is the bread store, Panera, right?

"Um, ok," I said. "Instead I'll have an apple for 1 order and a bag of baked chips for the other."

As I stood at the pick up counter, the girl who placed my order walked up to me, "I'm sorry, the sandwich you ordered... we don't have that bread. Do you have another bread choice? We have white or wheat."

Again, the confusion stirring in my head about where I am. This is the BREAD store, Panera, right? Isn't BREAD in your name?

As I tell Justin my debacle on the drive home, I shrug it off. That is until I sit down and open the bag. Instead of an apple or baked chips, they threw in 2 thinly sliced pieces of old bread. Are you kidding me?

Monumental Panera fail.

I might boycott for awhile. Well, at least until they decide to bake some bread.

Before I Was a Mom

No joke, I've been trying for days to write a new post about single moms. Everytime I hunker down to write, something happens I must attend to at our house. One of these days, I'll get it up. In the meantime, I can't take credit for writing this post, but I sure can relate.

Before I was a Mom,

I never tripped over toys

or forgot words to a lullaby.

I didn't worry whether or not

my plants were poisonous.

I never thought about immunizations.

Before I was a Mom,

I had never been puked on.

Pooped on.

Chewed on.

Peed on.

I had complete control of my mind and my thoughts.

I slept all night.

Before I was a Mom,

I never held down a screaming child

so doctors could do tests.

Or give shots.

I never looked into teary eyes and cried.

I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.

I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.

Before I was a Mom,

I never held a sleeping baby

just because I didn't want to put him down.

I never felt my heart break into a million pieces

when I couldn't stop the hurt.

I never knew that something so small

could affect my life so much.

I never knew that I could love someone so much.

I never knew I would love being a Mom.

Before I was a Mom,

I didn't know the feeling

of having my heart outside my body.

I didn't know how special it could feel

to feed a hungry baby.

I didn't know that bond between a mother and her child.

I didn't know that something so small

could make me feel so important and happy.

Before I was a Mom,

I had never gotten up in the middle of the night

every 10 minutes to make sure all was okay.

I had never known the warmth, the joy, the love,

the heartache, the wonderment

or the satisfaction of being a Mom.

I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much,

before I was a Mom.

More

Labor, delivery, the days following… they went nothing as I’d imagined. I think any expectant mom daydreams about the moment her first child will be born. For Justin and I, because we didn’t know if it was a boy or girl and because we hadn’t shared names, I had romanticized the doctor holding my baby in the air, exclaiming, “it’s a boy!” and placing the child on my chest. Not only did that not happen, the hours (all 18-ish of them) before and days after weren’t romantic either.

Justin and I excitedly raced to the hospital on the night of our actual due date with contractions 2-3 minutes apart, arriving at the hospital around 9:45 p.m. I remember calling my best friend, a labor and delivery nurse, asking, “do you think we could have the baby tonight?” She laughed and slowly responded, “it’s possible… but not probable!” Within hours of checking in, the pain intensified. I went into labor wanting to “go natural” but was open to drugs should I reach my limit. Needless to say, I reached my limit.

Justin and I waited and waited for the Bean to arrive. The hours wore on with little to no progress by my body, but our baby as ready as can be to enter the world by his position. By the following morning, the heart rate of our little one was becoming alarmingly slow. The doctor had once asked if I would like a C-section. We declined, wanting to wait a bit longer and see how my body responded to Pitocin. By 3:30 p.m., the doctor gave us a choice: vacuum or C-section, and we needed to decide in minutes. Our poor baby couldn’t handle the trauma any longer. Neither option was ideal, but we knew it was now about the health of our baby, not our dream delivery.

At 3:52 p.m., our baby, Finnegan William, was born, with the help of a vacuum, which isn't in any mother's birth plan. The doctor held the baby low and kept saying to Justin, “do you see? Do you see?” referring to the gender. Frustrated, I asked, “What is it?” For about 2 seconds they held my little man for me to see – boy parts and all – and then whisked him away.

During the course of my labor, my fever shot up to 103 and I acquired an infection due to my water being broke so long. As a result, Finn was born with a fever. After 20-30 minutes of watching him across the room, I had what felt like a minute to hold him before he was carted off to the NICU. He was gone, along with the nurses, the doctor and my husband. In seconds, there was nothing but silence in my room. It was deafening,

I remember sitting alone in my hospital room, calling my family to announce the new addition, but emotionally a mess because I wasn’t sure where my son was or what was happening. Wasn’t I supposed to be cuddling him? Nursing him? Taking pictures? The NICU doctor came to my room and more or less told me I could not see my baby because of my fever. Thankfully, my nurse (a God send through the whole process) was in the room and advocated for me. Sometime later, I was finally able to see my child again.

After a lot of help (damn the drugs) getting into a wheelchair, Justin and I were off to the NICU to see our little guy. There were so many people in the room, though, laughing, talking, taking pictures. I just wanted everyone to leave, but I was too drugged and confused to verbalize my need. I never was able to just have those peaceful, calm, mom moments with my newborn on the day of his birth that for months I’d been longing for. There’s a part of me that is still grieving the loss of that precious time.

I was discharged two nights after Finn’s birth. I still remember Justin wheeling me down to the car that night. We were making a quick run home so I could shower, change and grab a few items to spend the night with Finn. As clear as day, I remember putting my bags in the backseat and seeing that empty car seat we were suppose to be putting Finn into. I felt just as empty inside.

Finn remained in the NICU for a week. It was one thing after the next that was being “monitored” and one test after the next we waited for. Finally, Finn’s pink slip arrived. I've never been happier. Our baby could finally come home with us!

Now at home for almost a month, Finn has grown like a weed. He is happy and healthy and more than we ever could have imagined or wanted. No one can prepare you for the amount of love that rises up inside you when your child is born. It’s a love neither Justin nor I have ever known.

We cherish every moment. Every squeak, every cry, every movement is a true gift we’ve been given. We’ve promised each other and Finn that we’ll never take these precious moments – big or small – for granted. No, the journey wasn't what we planned, it was more. More twists, more turns, more dirty diapers, more spit ups, more love, more joy.

More. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Forever Changed

My life has forever changed due to the face on this little bundle. Announcing...

Finnegan William

Born: 9-10-09, 3:52 pm

Weight: 9 lbs, 2 ounces

Length: 21 1/2 inches

What have I learned in 2 weeks?

1. Nothing is as precious as a child. The amazing power of God to so perfectly create life inside a womb and sustain that same life outside will change you. When I think about all the things that must be perfectly aligned to create a healthy child, I'm in awe and completely overwhelmed. Everyday Justin and I thank God for this gift. He is a miracle.

2. Love can take your breath away. I never knew I was capable of loving anyone or anything as much as I love this baby. He has captured Justin and my heart. Nothing can prepare you for how much you will love your own child. It makes you unbelievably appreciative of what your parents did for you.

3. Rest is what you believe it to be. Even at 3 am - sleep deprived, delusional and confused - I'm well rested because I'm with him. There is true rest in peace like this.

4. I wish there was a way to bottle up every face, every noise, every peaceful moment, every cry, every movement. It seems like even as you try and absorb all the moments you're given, they are gone too quickly. I want to savor and remember it all. I've never known time to be as precious as it is until now.

5. Few things in life really matter. Things I thought were so important just 3 weeks ago really aren't important at all. A clean house, nice clothes, a good job... sure, we appreciate these things, but if it all turned to sand tomorrow, I wouldn't shed a single tear.

After Finn's birth, he had to spend some time in the NICU. Finn had a rough start to life... a long, difficult labor, a low heartbeat, a high fever, the threat of an infection, not eating well, etc. In the NICU, he was connected to so many monitors and tubes. It was the worst feeling knowing there was nothing we could do to make him better. All we could do was love him. Sometimes, I think, that's enough!

Finn is a fighter! Justin and I were able to take him home a week after his stay in the NICU. He left healthy and happy, made clear by his little finger saying "It's been real, NICU. Peace Out!"

Finn is a great eater and a great sleeper. We have been blessed with a wonderfully content baby. This is the face of love.

Finn has filled to overflowing the space in Justin and my heart that we never knew was empty. He is more than we ever could have hoped for on our own and the perfect blending of all we both are.

Anticipation

Knowing most babies are ripe and ready to go around 38 weeks, I often wondered why God typically makes couples (namely the uber preggo woman) wait until the 40 week mark to pop. Lingering now between 38 and 39 weeks, I have an answer: anticipation.

There is a true shift in being READY for a baby from weeks ago until now. I can't explain the switch, but it just seemed to happen. Part of it perhaps is knowing your body has done everything it can to sustain this life, but as obvious as it seems, I'm coming into a new realization that we are HAVING A BABY!

Yes, I admit, some of my anticipation certainly has to do with my eagarness to bend over again without a groan, to remember the true size of my ankles and feet, and to go shopping for clothes that don't have belly bands and empire waists. But moreso, it has to do with the peace and calm that has settled deep within. I've moved beyond being physically ready, personally and in our home, to being fully emotionally ready.

The calendar tells us we have 12 days to go. However, the hightened awareness of "anytime" adds such a sense of wonder to the anticipation. For me, there is something reassuring and exciting about not really knowing, not having any control over when Baby Wise will come and if the Bean is a boy or girl.

These are the two truest surprises of my life, and I wait in excited anticipation for the secrects to be revealed.

63 Years

Just 63 short years ago was August 24, 1946: the day my Grandma and Grandpa were married.

Today is looking like the day my Grandma will be released from the hospital. She’s been there since last Wednesday with some pancreas trouble. Thankfully, she will be OK, but I know this is not the 63-year remembrance she would prefer. My Grandma is hands-down one of my favorite people in the world. She is, understandably, ready to be out of that building and back at home.

Years ago I asked my Grandma how she and Grandpa met. The story she told was short and simple, but perfect, just like their love. They met at a dance being held at the University. Grandma said she remembers dancing with Grandpa that night and later telling her friends she "would marry that man." Sure enough, they did!

My Grandpa was a handsome man. When I look at old pictures of the two of them, I can see why Grandma liked him so much! And my Grandma was just beautiful, too. She still is.

There is something about the men and women of our grandparent’s generation that is so different, so special. They work hard, play hard, rest hard and know the true meaning about why we are here. They know the value of family, of simplicity, of kindness. They know how to love fully, spend wisely, and speak honestly. They are the kind of people I hope to be, and I do hope to be just like my Grandma.

So, Grandma – here’s to you and your day! We miss that great husband of yours everyday, but we are all so thankful for all the time we have with you, and for how joyfully you live and love!

Bad Advice

If Beanie arrives according to schedule, we will be swaddling and burping and loving on the Bean in about 30 days! We couldn't be more excited, although it's possible we could be a little more prepared. There is still quite a bit to do: painting, essential purchasing (ex: car seat), hospital stay packing, and on and on...

Justin and I were recently talking with our good friends who just happen to be another expecting couple, Mike and Megan, when we started laughing at the ridiculous things people share when you're awaiting your 1st child's birth.

Top five things not say to someone expecting a baby:

1. Are you sure there's only 1 in there?

I know some people think this is funny. Let me just clarify: this is never funny. Never. When a woman has an extra 30+ pounds floating around various areas of her body, there's also a rage that can blow up and take you out. Beware. Like mom taught you, "if you don't have anything nice to say, simply shut your pie hole."

2. Get all your sleep now because you'll never sleep again.

I have one of two responses floating around my head when I hear comments like this. One, "duh, we are having a BABY that needs us." We were prepared when we got pregnant to sacrifice our comfortable little world to care for this child. I'm not saying that will make it easy or that I will smile every time I wake up at 3a for a feeding, but this is what I signed up for, and I am committed to do it with love in my heart. My other response is, "um, actually, you should have told me this BEFORE I got pregnant, but thanks." Between the bathroom breaks and the every-bit-of-strength-to-move-in-bed moments, there's no sleeping now.

3. Don't let this thing take over your life.

This came from our friend, Mike. And yes, the word actually used was "thing." Priorities will change when this baby arrives and some people might not like that. Without hesitation, Justin and my number one priority will be this child's health, heart and overall wellbeing. Yes, our friends and family will still be very important to us, but if Beanie has a need, that will be our priority 10 times out of 10.

4. You'll want to work after you have the baby. You'll just need something else to do.

Thank you for your advice. Life is expensive. Life is short. There is no good answer or solution. We don't live in a perfect world. Please, kindly respect our decision and keep your comments about what you feel is best for us to yourself. Please and thank you.

5. I can't believe you're even considering working after you have the baby. What an awful mother. (paraphrasing)

Thank you for your advice. Life is expensive. Life is short. There is no good answer or solution. We don't live in a perfect world. Please, kindly respect our decision and keep your comments about what you feel is best for us to yourself. Please and thank you.

This is just a start. What other bad advice have you heard or received while expecting?