HAPPY EASTER!

And a very happy weekend it is for us - we got some big news yesterday!  My sister Wendy got engaged!!!

The ring!

Wendy + Steve

The happy couple.

We are all very excited around here about it - they are both very happy and in love.  Can't wait for the wedding!!!

Today I'm just going to leave it at that and post our Easter pics of Tessie.  

Enjoy your ham, lamb, chocolate bunnies or whatever it is you choose to indulge in today!

Parenting Book Strikes Again

Parenting has been particularly difficult the past two weeks – my confidence as a Mom was the lowest I have experienced so far. So much so, I even struggled with whether or not to write this post.  I was feeling very ashamed and was not sure I wanted to share some of what I’ve been struggling with.  But I actually feel like I’ve come out the other side of this particular struggle, and am feeling much better about everything… and if this helps any other friends who might be new parents soon, it will have been worth it to share this story!

A couple weeks ago I posted a story about how I got a little too obsessive with following the advice from one of my parenting books, Healthy Sleep Habits Happy Child.  Well, it turns out the advice in that book was almost too effective for my own good.  I’ll explain: the tips I was following in the book led to Tess being able to sleep for 10+ hours at night. Sometimes Tess would wake up after 8 hours of sleep, but the book recommends that you try to keep baby asleep until 6am, so if she woke at 3am or something, I would give her a pacifier and she would go back to sleep.  I thought I was doing a good job, doing what was best for Tess.

Just over a week ago I noticed that when I would nurse Tess she would get very fussy.  After some research, I came to the conclusion that my milk supply had maybe gone down. I decided to call the “lactation hotline” at Northside Hospital, where I delivered.  I explained the situation to the lactation consultant, and she basically told me I was starving my baby. 

An infant Tess’ age – whether she is able to or not – should not go 10 hours without eating, apparently.  My sleep book never mentioned that – it focused solely on sleep and not feeding. Or I just missed those bits. And yes, I’m probably completely stupid for not knowing that anyway but I just figured that if she were hungry, she wouldn’t go back to sleep from a pacifier.  The lactation lady scoffed at me when I told her that, and I couldn’t have felt worse or more stupid.  She essentially informed me that it was all my fault for my milk production going down because I would go so long without nursing. I would put Tess to sleep and pump once before bed but clearly that was not nearly enough. While I didn’t dare mention this to the lactation lady who had already labeled me “BAD MOM,” I had also just started working out and watching what I eat more.  I had quickly lost weight for the 6 or 8 weeks after giving birth, but that came to a screeching halt and I still have about 15 pounds to lose.  Between that and some hormonal changes, my milk levels had taken a serious nose-dive - and fast.

The lactation consultant told me that it would take more than a month for my milk production to go back up and so I better get to work nursing Tess every 90 minutes during the day and would have to wake her up at least twice at night to feed her.  Even through my tears she offered me no moral support but only said that if I worked hard enough I would get back to where I needed to be.  No mention of “good job for breast feeding to begin with” or “this is tough work but its worth it” or “don’t be hard on yourself, you are trying your best.” Nothing.  I was clearly in a vulnerable state and kind of needed to be treated with kid gloves at that point, but she didn’t seem to care or notice.

I can not describe the feelings I experienced that day.  I was at the depths of despair, thinking my poor little baby had been suffering because of my actions. That I had deprived her of her most basic needs. Mommy guilt on steroids.  I was inconsolable.  On top of that, it was the middle of the day, and anyone I could have talked to about it was working. Fortunately, my friend Cindee – another breastfeeding mom – called me and talked me off the ledge.  She let me ball my eyes out to her and gave me the encouragement the lactation consultant should have done. She also offered some great advice for getting my milk supplies up, and not just "work harder."  Thank God for her.

I also made an appointment at the pediatrician the next morning for a weight check.  At Tess’ 2 month appointment her weight looked good, but it had been more than a month since that check.  They say babies should be gaining 0.5-1oz a day, and between her 2 month check and last week, she had been averaging exactly 0.5 oz gained per day.  So she was not under average, but was certainly at the lowest end of normal. The nurse at the pediatricians office gave me some extra encouragement, and made me feel a little better. At this point, I had already picked up my nursing, and she told me to just keep doing what I was doing and to come back for a weight check in another week.  

So the past week I have been force-feeding Tess like she’s a goose on a foie gras farm. The all-you-can-eat milk buffet is back open for business and Tess has been pigging out non-stop.  I feed her every 1.5-2 hours. Before bed I nurse her, give her 4oz of expressed milk and 2 oz of formula.  I pump every hour after that until I go to sleep and wake her to feed her again around midnight and 4am. She is up for the day around 6:30, when the constant nursing begins again.   The funny thing is, since I started this new routine she is starting to wake up on her own at these scheduled feeding times. Its like she’s thinking, “oh man, these midnight snacks are friggin’ awesome! I can’t believe I’ve been missing out all this time!”

My whiteboard record of feedings.  

I had already filled up the board, 

erased everything, and started again a few days ago.

OCD?

I also downloaded the weight percentile chart 

and plotted it myself against Tess' numbers.

I might need to see someone about this...

It has been exhausting to say the least.  It’s like being back in the early days when Tess was first born.  But it’s been so worth it – we went back to the doctor today and she’s gained 14-1/2 ounces in the past 7 days.  That is 4 times her previous rate of weight gain.  She’s porking out and I could NOT be happier about it.  I want a fat baby!!! She was a little too Gisele Bundchen before and I want more Melissa McCarthy. 

This has been a serious learning experience on so many levels. First, I bought my own baby scale because I’ve spent $50 on copays from 2 visits just to weigh her at the doctor’s office. A highly recommended purchase - only $48 on Amazon (Baby Scale), less than I spent on copays.  And, again I shouldn’t have been so consumed by following that book that, for better or worse, was very 1-dimensional.  I should have had the foresight to synthesize the tips on sleep with tips on feeding, but was too narrow-minded about it. I thought I had nailed down the feeding thing and moved on to the next “parenting initiative” before we were ready.  Yes, sleep and getting enough of it is super important – but so is gaining weight at this point.  Everyone tells me how lucky I am that Tess is such a good sleeper. As it turns out, either you have a baby who won’t sleep or you have a baby that you have to wake to feed. Either way, you’re not getting any sleep as a new parent.  And waking a sleeping baby is so counter intuitive, I would prefer she initiate all the late night feedings!  Like Cindee said to me that day on the phone, my job at this point is making sure Tess is well fed.  I am back to focusing on that pretty exclusively, and clearly its paying off at 2 oz a day.

I’m also really mad at the lactation consultant people at Northside.  I turned to them for help and encouragement at my most desperate hour and all they did was make me feel stupid and cruel.  They made me feel that I had already done irreparable damage to my child’s development.  This is why people give up breastfeeding.  Its hard work! And its scary not knowing how much volume your child is taking in each day. I could have so easily said “F this” and bought a tub of formula from Sam’s Club a week ago.  I would have known exactly how much she was eating (which would have appealed to my OCD tendencies), she would probably need to be fed less during the night, Andy could help with feedings, I would have been able to continue to diet and exercise and when lactation bitches stress me out I could take a few shots of tequila and forget about it! Instead, I’ve been completely drained of all energy since all I do is nurse and don’t sleep for more than 3 hours at a time. I still don’t know how much she’s eating so am just hoping with all the nursing she is taking in enough.  And I am too paranoid now to cut back on calories so am going to have to deal with the extra 15 pounds on my ass for a lot longer.  (Sorry, Andy).  And I've given up alcohol completely during a pretty damn stressful time in my life!  Luckily for Tess, I actually enjoy nursing her and see the value in it so I didn’t let the lactation consultant’s attitude deter me from my commitment to breastfeeding.  I am also lucky enough to have the world’s most supportive husband who tells me at least once everyday that I’m doing a great job and that he’s proud of me.  And has also taken over doing the laundry, cooking, cleaning, etc so I can focus my energy on nursing and making more milk. I certainly couldn’t have made it through the last week (or 3 months) without Andy.

All in all this was just another lesson in “Being a Momma is Tough Business.” But we got through it (barely) and I am now following my instincts far more.  I wasn’t able to trust myself and was just turning to the “experts” because I just felt so clueless as a new parent.  As another expectant mom I know said in her blog – her parenting “instincts” said to read and study!  I know just how she feels – I went to school for 25 years, I was used to turning to a book for the answer.  But it turns out that had I trusted myself I would have been feeding her more and holding her more, but the books I chose to read said to do things differently so I did. In the end, I came far closer than I should have to depriving her of things she needed even more than sleep: fat, calories and vitamins.  And snuggles.  

Finally, I want to say THANK YOU to my own mom for breastfeeding me!  I now know the sacrifice you made to do that (and for a whole year). I hope you feel it was worth it in the end. I’m sorry it took me 30 years to thank you for it, but if it’s any consolation, Tess probably won’t thank me for another 30 years either!

His number came up

I thought today I’d do a “non-Tess” post – don’t worry, I’ll still sneak in some pictures!  But I wanted to tell you guys about the call I got from my sister-in-law Steph last week.  She tells me that in 2005 my brother Ron had put his name on the waitlist for Red Sox season tickets.  I knew he had – I remember him being so excited, he even carried his code around in his wallet, scribbled on a post-it. To say Ron was an “avid Red Sox fan” is an understatement. Ron personified Red Sox Nation.  He knew it would take a long time for his number to come up but it would be worth the wait.  Well, he was right – it took 8 years, but apparently his number came up this year.  He got an email telling him he was eligible to buy season tickets for this season.

"Little Red Sox Fan"

Just like Uncle Ron

Many people reading this likely know that Ron died 3-1/2 years ago.  Steph hasn’t been able to bring herself to get rid of his email address, so she continues to check it periodically.  She happened to check it the day he got the email from the Sox.  All I could think when she told me that his number came up was how pissed he’d be knowing that he wouldn’t be able to use them.  I can’t describe to you how excited he would be about this.  It’s so unfair he isn’t here to enjoy them himself.  But everything about Ron’s illness and ultimate death was unfair to say the least…

Ron started feeling sick back in 2006, right around his 40^th birthday.  He thought it was a cold.  Ron never got sick and when he did, he didn’t let it keep him down.  It kept getting worse so he finally went to the doctor.  Doc said it was mono, so he should rest but he would slowly start getting better.  But it kept getting worse.  Thanksgiving 2006 he couldn’t even stay at the table to finish his meal he was so sick.  And Ron LOVED Thanksgiving.  And eating. It's a family characteristic, really. That Christmas, Andy proposed to me in front of the family, and he missed it because he was too sick to come to my sister’s.  Finally, in January, one day he had a stroke.  It turned out he had leukemia and the cancer cells were so thick in his blood that it formed a clot. 

Ron's hospital room when he was first diagnosed

His buddies made him a banner to inspire him in his fight!

Ron went through chemo like a champ that year.  He went into remission and had an autologous stem cell transplant – they could not find a bone marrow donor who was a perfect match so instead they harvested his own stem cells from his bone marrow, cleaned them up – blasted him with total body radiation then gave his own cells back to him.  By September of that year, 2007, he was well enough to marry the love of his life – Stephanie.  And life was good for a while.

Love birds.

Ron was checking himself out in a mirror here.

Family.

Ron with a couple of his bros.

The next summer he relapsed.  They caught it early so it should be easy to treat. they said.  Ron started chemo again.  “Ding, ding, Round 2” Ron said to Steph when they found out. “Strong like bull” was his motto, and he was. 

Chemo would wipe out his immune system, and shortly after starting treatment he acquired an infection and went into septic shock.  He was in ICU and things did not look good.  They gave him a 5% chance of survival.  But they put him on dialysis and after about a week he started to get better.  He got so much better, in fact, a few weeks later he was strong enough to start chemo again.

Da Fam. Christmas 2004.

Ron was tough - everyone else was all bundled up because it was freezing.

Ron was in a sweater and ball cap.

But the chemo wasn’t working this time.  They kept trying different drugs but he just would not go into remission.  Ron was in the hospital for more than 6 straight months during that time. It was getting scary, but Ron’s physician Dr. Marks (who will always go down as the most incredible physician I will ever know) had one last bag of tricks he was going to try.  It was an experimental drug they came up with at Yale, where Ron was being treated, and it was worth a shot.  Finally, right before Christmas 2008 Dr. Marks announced Ron was in remission.  At that point he needed to have a “real” bone marrow transplant, from a donor.  They still could not find a perfect match, but there was someone who was close enough and it was Ron’s only chance at survival.

Me + Ron

Thanksgiving 2008

The whole family brought a full Thanksgiving dinner,

complete with turkey and all the sides,

to Yale New Haven Hospital.

Even a box of wine.

Ron had the transplant in early 2009 and it all went well to start.  It is a long recovery process, and there are a million anti-rejection meds he had to be on that kept his immune system suppressed, but he was in remission and getting stronger by the day.  By that summer he was well enough that he and Steph met Andy and I in North Carolina for a week on the beach.  Finally, we thought – life can start getting back to normal.

Ron fishing in North Carolina.

Unimpressed with Andy's catch.

Living the good life.

Ron caught a stingray

"Nurse Jonny" was protecting Ron from the stinger.

Later that summer, though, he started having symptoms of what is known as graft vs host disease. This happens when the transplanted cells start attacking the host’s body, Ron’s body.  A minor case of graft vs host can sometimes be a good sign, it means the transplant is “taking.”.  But it can also be lethal if it gets out of control.  Ron was confident he would get through it, we even had a family vacation to Block Island planned for late August.  But the trip had to be cancelled, he was still too sick to leave the hospital. 

Family.

Eventually, Ron’s liver started shutting down.  One day my mom called and said I should probably come up north, things were not looking good at all.  I had no doubt in my mind Ron would get through this, he had come so close to death SO many times and ALWAYS got better just as things were most dire.   “Teflon Ron” we would call him, because nothing would “stick.”

The day after Andy and I arrived Ron was moved to the ICU and he would never come out.  My mom and Steph hadn’t left his side for days, so I finally convinced them to go home, get a meal and a shower and I would stay with him.  At this point Ron was unconscious, but we still didn’t want him to be alone.  That afternoon I sat by his side and finally thought to myself for the first time “God… if he isn’t going to get better… just take him quickly. Don’t let him suffer like this anymore.”  A short time after that a woman came in who said she was the hospital chaplain and asked if she could pray for Ron. I was pretty religious when I was a kid, but haven’t been as an adult.  I don’t like the way organized religion is practiced so I avoid it.  But I told her she could go ahead and pray, and when she asked what I wanted to pray for I told her that I would want him to go quickly and peacefully if he wasn’t going to survive this illness.  

Then Ron died that night. 

I don’t know if God answered that prayer or if I was just finally facing the reality that the end was near… but, regardless of what happened, he did go peacefully.  He was surrounded by everyone he loved – my parents, my sister, Andy and I.  His loving and devoted wife, Steph.  All of his best friends who had been a crew since they were little kids. There were probably a dozen people around his bedside as he drew his final breath.  If any messages were getting through to him in his final moments, it was that he was so loved.

Some of Ron's best friends...

Friends since they were little kids.

It has been exactly three and a half years and there has not been one day that has gone by that I haven’t thought about him. That I haven’t missed the sound of his laugh.  And I’m one of probably 20 people who feel that way. At least 20.  Ron was maybe the most popular guy I’ve ever met.  People were drawn to him. He was fun and outgoing and absolutely hilarious. He could bond with anyone.  He LIVED each and every day of his life.  And he was generous and giving to no end.

Family game of wiffle ball on Easter.

When Steph called me the other night, I told her – Ron would kick our asses if we didn’t get those season tickets.  He really would.  As it turns out, Steph had saved his wallet, including the post-it note with his code. Its almost like it was meant to be – the fact that Steph still checks Ron’s email and still had that code… As Ron’s friend Donnie said, “That guy just keeps on giving.”  Even in death.

The other piece of exciting news we got this week was that Steph was accepted to Quinnipiac University’s accelerated nursing program!  In 1 short year, Steph will be fully qualified as a nurse!!! She has been working to get her pre-requisites done while working the past couple of years, and now is able to start school full-time.  She was inspired by Ron to pursue this completely new career (she’s previously worked in sales).  Steph was Ron’s at-home nurse for 3 years, and did an incredible job. After seeing the difference Ron’s nurses made during his illness, and how they touched his life and hers, she was inspired to go and do the same for others. It is, in a roundabout way, how Ron will “keep on giving” I guess… I can’t tell you how proud he would be of her.

Old School Ron + Steph

So Steph bought the tickets.  Left Field Pavillion Reserved.  It's a real bittersweet moment for all of us. Steph most of all, I’m sure.  What’s incredible is that Andy and I have planned a trip up to Mass this summer and are going to be able to go to a game with Steph… but not any game. A Yankee game. I nearly died when I realized the timing was right! As many times as I’ve been to Fenway, I have never been to a Yankee game. Tickets are impossible to get your hands on, and even if you can, they are too damn expensive! Again, like it was meant to be.  Ron and Steph brought Andy and I to a Red Sox game on my birthday in 2005.  In my mind this will be like him bringing me to another.  It will be an emotional day, but I’ll know he’ll be sitting right there with me.  (Let’s hope he’ll also be sitting with Big Papi to inspire some big hits!)

Me + Ron @ Fenway Park

Andy Steph Ron

June 13, 2005

All ready for a game.

"Put me in, coach!"

One of the hardest things for me to think about now is that Tess will never get to meet Ron.  She will know of him, of course – I will be sure to tell her stories about Ron – and often.  But she will never experience the full-belly laugh that he would undoubtedly bring out of her with his hilarious jokes and stories, like he did everyone.  But hopefully she will have a chance to someday use the season tickets that her Uncle made sure were left to her Aunt Steph.  I love to think of the joy that he’ll be brining to her even though they will have never met face-to-face.

Ron 

1966-2009

P.S. I wanted to apologize for the emotional and sad nature of this post, its just been on my mind with the news about the tickets and with Steph getting into nursing school.  And Ron's death is such a big part of my and Andy's personal narrative, it seems odd to have a blog about our lives without telling the story at least once.