The One With a Sam Update

Sam turned 4 months old last week. Sometimes people hear that and say, "FOUR MONTHS?? Wow! That just flew by, didn't it?" Usually I smile and nod. Sometimes I give the obligatory response "Yup! He's just growing so fast!" What I'm saying in my head is, "Really? That's interesting, because actually, this has been the longest 4 months of my whole entire life." Being a mom is hard. And exhausting. And I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world...but flying by? Nope.

His appointment went fabulously though. Basically we went in expecting to hear that all of his development was on a 3-month level. Premature babies usually develop according to their gestational age, not their actual age, so Sam would be totally fine if he were developing 5 weeks behind. We were excited though, because while his motor skills are right on a 3 month level, his cognitive skills have caught up to a 4 month old! He looks wonderful and healthy and has gained a good amount of weight--up to the 35th% percentile! We're really proud of him. Right now his favorite things are cooing, smiling, and sitting back on the couch while someone talks to him. He is starting to enjoy bathtime more and more and we've established a good nighttime routine. Bedtime is 7pm and he is sleeping about a 9 hour stretch every night before eating once and going back down until 7a. He is a really high maintenance baby and usually isn't happy unless he's being held, although he is getting used to sitting in his exercauser for a few minutes at a time. He rolled over for the first time a few weeks ago from front to back, but he can't roll himself back yet, so sometimes he gets himself stuck! All in all, we're having more fun as each day goes by and we enjoy seeing his little personality emerge more and more. So far, I'd describe him as difficult, stubborn, and hilarious--which surprisingly enough were exactly the characteristics he had in the womb!

Being parents has been challenging and wonderful. It's made Geoff and I communicate more and differently than we ever had to before, and we've gotten to show each other support and love in more tangible ways than ever before. Geoff has been an amazing and hands-on dad. He does almost all the night feedings and is home by himself with Sam at least one day a week plus about 4 mornings a week. Sam loves to talk and babble to us, which is the best part about coming home from a long day. Sometimes balancing our jobs, the house, each other, and Sam is a lot, but his little smile makes every day worth it, and we've been so lucky to have so much support from family and friends. I'm really looking forward to the journey continuing!

The One With the Letter

So, working full time and being a mom and having a new house is making blogging harder than I expected. I'm tryin, but it's just not happening. In any case, just thought I'd share this with you all. We had Sam's dedication at church a few Sundays ago, and we wrote him this letter. We will give it to him whenever he becomes a Christian, and it's a few of our prayers for him. Enjoy :)

Dear Sam,

Today you came to know the Lord as your personal savior. We are so proud of you and so excited for you as you embark on this journey to know God more personally. You are such a blessing to us and we could not be more proud of what a great young man you have become.

On December 9^th you changed our lives forever. During the time we waited to meet you, we imagined the person you would be. When the time finally came, you made a dramatic entrance, and our lives would never be the same. You came into this world just a tiny bundle of joy, and while you’ve experienced few milestones as we sit to write this letter, we are already thrilled with each thing you learn. Right now, we track your growth by ounces and inches—but we hope that you always know our deepest hopes for you are about the growth of your heart.

We pray that you will be a man of compassion—that you will look for those in need and reach out to help them. We pray you will have integrity—that in a world where the right thing is often the hard thing, you will have courage to make good choices, even when no one is looking. We pray for a heart of peace—that you will not be overwhelmed by challenges you face, but rest in the One who is holding you. We pray that you will be a good steward, and wisely use the gifts and talents that God has blessed you with. We pray for wisdom—that you will earnestly seek the will of God in your life and make your decisions thoughtfully.

Sometimes it is sad to think that you will have to grow up in a broken world. We know that in your life, you will face sadness, loss, grief, and pain. We cannot, as hard as we may try, protect you from these things. But we hope that you wake up every morning knowing that you are deeply loved—loved by your family, and loved by God. Our love isn’t perfect, and we know that we will fail you. But our greatest prayer is that we are constantly pointing you to the One who will never fail you, and the One who knew you before we even got to meet you. We are so thankful that you have chosen to make Him a part of your life and give your heart to Him. We love you more than we will ever be able to tell you, and we are so proud to call you our son.

Love, Dad and Mom

The One With All the New Pants

So, today I went back to the gym for the first time since before I got put on bedrest at the end of my pregnancy. It's been nearly 3 months--the longest I've ever been away. And it was fabulous. Granted, probably not my best trip ever. I haven't shaved my legs since my 6 week post partum checkup (don't judge. I have a newborn, ok?), so I was wearing a pair of too-big sweatpants that tried to fall down while I ran. I was a little disoriented and lacking in decisiveness, so I wandered back and forth between machines wasting time a lot. And after about 25 minutes when I was tired, I just stopped and decided to come back home. But still--great trip.

I've been thinking lately though--having a baby was the absolute best thing that ever happened to my body image. If you'd asked me a year ago right before I got pregnant, I'd have told you I would be freaking out about the amount of weight I'd gain, about my hips spreading, about my abs disappearing and leaving behind stretch marks. But oddly enough, I am not. Being pregnant made me not care so much. In the past few years, I've had many a struggle with my body image. The way I've outwardly handled my [sometimes real, sometimes perceived] weight issues has sometimes been healthy; sometimes unhealthy. I've used disordered eating to drop pounds, and I've successfully and healthfully cut calories to lose a little excess. But I don't know if I could tell you a time in the past 4 years when inwardly my body image has been healthy or positive. So as soon as I found out I was pregnant, I got a little nervous. But as quickly as it came, it left. Now granted, first trimester I didn't have to think much about it, since I dropped a bunch of weight because of puking everything up. But once the pounds came, they came quickly. And for some reason, standing on the scale thinking "This is the lowest number I will see for the next few months" was incredibly freeing. So was the knowledge that I had no choice but to choose a healthy lifestyle and eating habits, because I was now responsible for growing another human being. When the first stretch marks popped up, I prepared myself for the inevitable freak out...and it never came. Nor did it come when 876 other stretch marks followed after that. (I am not kidding. The other day, Geoff says "Sometimes it kind of looks like your belly is on fire--it looks like there's flames everywhere!!" Don't worry--he wasn't being mean, and I wasn't offended at all. He was kidding, and it made me laugh, and he tells me every day how beautiful I am :))

I'm finding myself instead embracing the idea that my life is entirely consumed now with someone else besides myself. And that the time and energy I used to put into my attempts to lose weight or fix something is now put into the daily tasks that involve caring for my son. Life seems so much more meaningful. And, ironically, I feel much more beautiful. I'm not perfect--the first time I went shopping for new jeans, I left empty handed because I refused to buy jeans in my new size even though I found some that fit perfectly (you all know you've done it...) But, I am sitting here tonight typing in a pair of jeans 4 sizes bigger than my pre-pregnancy jeans, and I don't care, so I finally bought them. The cute polka dot bikini I wore last summer will never see the light of day again, but you know what? Next time I go swimming, I'm going to be dragging a bag full of SPF 982, Little Swimmies, floating devices, beach toys, and toting along a little boy. And I'm his mom, and I might have the kangaroo pouch that he used to live in forever on my abdomen. But whatevs. He's totally worth it. And I totally have more important things to think about now. So now, I get to go to the gym to be healthy and for fun--not to meet a certain caloric burn. I'm excited to embrace the new stage of my life, and the freedom it brings. I need to purchase a lot of new clothes, but whatevs :) All part of the fun!

The One With Not Knowing Where to Begin

I've thought about updating this a billion times, but there's so much to say that I just couldn't bring myself to actually form all the thoughts into complete sentences. And you gotta cut me some slack...cuz I'm a mommy now :)

I went to my routine 32 week appointment and we found out I have high blood pressure and protein in my urine, indicating preeclampsia. Two weeks, 6 trips to Labor & Delivery, one 4 day hospital stay, one close call with a c-section, over 20 blood draws, and one visit to a high risk specialist later, we induced my labor at 35 weeks and I had my little baby boy! Samuel Brandon was born on December 9th, 2009 at 9:52p. He weighed 5 pounds, 10 ounces and was 18.5 inches long. Came out screaming and doing just great, 9/9 apgars, and came home with us less than 2 days later. Unfortunately, once we got home, our little man got very very sick and we had to take him back to the hospital, where we stayed for nearly 2 weeks. Thankfully, our little family got to come home on Christmas Eve together!!

So far being a mom has been the greatest, scariest, most exhausting, most wonderful thing in my entire life. Sam is doing much better now that we're home again, and is up to 6 pounds! He is doing pretty well with sleeping at night, at least sometimes, and is basically just our favorite thing ever! At some point, I'll have to get my birth story written down just so I don't forget it. But for now, I gotta sleep because he's sleeping! :)

The One With a Weekend Thought on Motherhood

I love my mom, a lot. She's really an amazing lady. She is generous, kind, funny, hardworking, and a lot of other things that I hope I picked up a little bit of from her (she's also slightly OCD and a clean freak--which, unfortunately and MUCH to her dismay, I did not inherit at all.) But mostly, she loves me. A lot. Not in a "my child can do no wrong" sort of way (my mom is also very honest!) but in a, "you're mine, so never forget how special you are" kind of way. When I was growing up, it was just me and her for the most part, and I never felt like I was missing out (luckily, I did get to see my dad on weekends, so I still had the father figure. Not saying he was absent. Just that the majority of my life growing up was the 2 of us.) My mom worked a full time job--I have no idea what hours she worked. The reason for this is that I have absolutely no recollection of her ever being gone. I cannot recall a single soccer game, tee-ball game, softball game, gymnastics practice, school concert, school field trip, or any other significant event that she wasn't there for. I don't remember ever remember going to bed being tucked in by anyone besides my mom. I remember playing Barbies on the floor (actually playing together. Not me playing and her watching.) I remember sitting in the sandbox together. I remember playing with my dollhouse, singing our Steve Green bible verse songs, dancing to Wee Wing videos, having popcorn with Full House, back when it was a new and exciting show. I remember a home cooked meal nearly every night, and I remember having fish, hamsters, and kittens all during my growing up years. I'm sure there were things she had to miss; I know there were lots of friends and family who pitched in and made my life a wonderful thing. I know that I always had the same clothes all my friends did (and that I was proud my mom knew how to find the same clothes at yard sales instead of department stores!) and I never missed an after school event, summer camp, or youth group trip no matter what the cost was. I didn't notice then that my mom never bought herself new clothes. I probably didn't pay attention to all the things I had, and all the things she did without--probably because she has never brought attention to them. She has never grumbled about the sacrifice it was to put me through an expensive private school because she wanted me to have the best education possible. She's never once reminded me, or even mentioned a single time, the hard times she must have had as a single mother. Rather, she has told me every single day for my entire existence, how loved I am.

My mom told me once that one of the trademarks of people who are truly happy is that every truly happy person knows that they are someone's favorite. The morning of my wedding, she told me I should be the happiest person in the world, because all my life I had been her favorite, and now I was someone else's as well. And how right she is. I never even thought I'd understand how much my mom loves me. But the closer I get to meeting this sweet baby boy thats growing inside me, the more it inspires me to love this child with everything I have.

This week when I was on vacation, I thought I might have a lot of those "this is the last time I'll get to do ::fill in the blank:: before Sam comes!" since it was most likely my last trip without a baby in tow for awhile. Instead, I found myself anxiously awaiting his arrival so I can show him the world. A seagull walked up to my chair and I thought "Wow, Sam would LOVE if a bird came this close to him!" We walked the boardwalk and I thought "Look at that boy playing the arcade games! In a few years, I will get to play them with Sam!" When I was wiggling my toes in the sand I thought, "I wonder what Sam will think of the sand? I guess he will eat it..." Everything I experience now I want to share with him, and I get more excited by the day to meet him and love him in person.

I thought the other day "Man, I should try to think of SOMETHING besides pregnancy to write about on my blog or facebook" but then I realized--for 24 years, my mom has been my mom. I wonder how many times she's been referred to as "Ashley's Mom" instead of by her name. And it makes me smile to think that now, I am "Sam's Mom." My husband is "Sam's Dad." We are beginning a whole new phase of life, and I am thrilled to have been loved so well so that I can pass that onto my son.

And maybe somewhere along the way I'll pick up a little of the cleaning skills, too :)

(For more Weekend Thoughts, check out Life at the Circus)

The One With all the Moms

This week, I did something really cool. Actually, I did the same thing that about 60 0ther people also did, and to them it might not have been that significant. But to me, however dramatic this may be, it was a symbol of the changes that are coming, and already happening, in my life.

I went to a MOPS (mothers of pre schoolers) Meeting.

And I loved it. And I think I most of all loved it because it made me feel something that I've known since March, but made me feel it more concretely: I am a mom. I am not a mom-to-be. I am not going to be a mom. I AM a mom. I loved at the meeting when people would ask how many children I had. I always said one (and then pointed to the nametag on my protruding stomach that read "Sam".) Because even if I haven't met him, and I haven't held him, or chased after him, or had him puke on me, or had sleepless nights because of his crying, or gotten his poop all over me, or yelled at him, or laughed with him, or tickled him...he's still my son. Right now. Every time he wiggles and dances and moves and squirms, I get to know him a little bit more and I love him a little bit more. I do understand (or rather, don't understand) that something amazing happens when I DO get to meet him, and see him, and that that moment will be something I cannot comprehend. But for now, I'm just so happy to be his mom.

And I'm so excited about the community of women that I get to be a part of. I am inspired and encouraged and humbled at the opportunity I am getting the join these women (and countless others that I am equally inspired by) on the journey of motherhood.