Post-Partum Care & Follow Up. Everything you actually need to know.

I remember having my first baby and thinking that post-partum care wasn't going to be a big deal. I just assumed that you push the baby out and bam, you're done. Sure- you'll get your period and it's probably going to be messy, but that was it.

As it turns out, that's a super fun chapter that should be crucial in the What to Expect When You're Expecting books and they really gloss over it. To say I was grossly unprepared is an absolute understatement. Add that to the fact that I was a level four tear, and I was a hot, waddling mess.

(Disclaimer: If you don't know what a level four tear is, I highly advise that you do not look for a Google image, instead let me just tell you it means you tear from front to back. What once was two very separate holes essentially becomes a uni-hole and you just hope your doctor is really great at stitches.)

The doctor who delivered Olivia had been delivering babies for over 30 years and had only seen that happen one other time. I can't even say Olivia was a large baby, she was only 7 pounds, 10 ounces. Just an average, normal sized peanut. Yet, that girl made me a uni-hole. That right there should have been a sign of all to come.

But I left the hospital with a list of items I would need to care for all of the stitches that gave me two holes versus uni-hole and a peri bottle.

What's a peri bottle? Oh lambs.

This is a peri bottle. If you have stitches especially, you can say good bye to toilet paper for awhile. Oh yes. You don't get to use toilet paper for at least a couple of weeks, ideally. Every time you go to the bathroom, pee or poop, you have to rely on this bottle to clean yourself. That's it. A squirt bottle of water. They'll tell you "room temperature" and I'll tell you warmer than that. Cold water on your bits is not a good feeling. Nor is scalding hot water, so make sure your partner understands the difference between scalding hot and just right. You may need to insist you squirt the too hot water on their parts for them to fully understand what is and is not acceptable. Matt has a firm grasp on what is acceptable now.

You'll also need witch hazel pads. Even if you don't have hemorrhoids.

I swear to you, these give you 15 seconds of glory. A whole 15 seconds of soothing relief of your vagina hole. It's so great. I went through an entire container of these plus the ones I stole from the bathroom of the hospital. 

You also need pads. Kiss tampons goodbye, not like they would do you any good anyways. I don't care what anyone says, you need the overnight, extra absorbent pads. 

Anything less than this is like bringing a knife to a gun fight. The amount of fluid and uterine lining chunks that come out is just.... it's gross. It's gross and every trip to the bathroom is like gearing for battle. Will you be able to get your mesh underwear off to sit down, while preparing your squirt bottle, without getting anything around the toilet? I hope so because it's not easy to squat or bend over to clean the toilet or floor. 

Wait, mesh underwear you say? 

Yeah, look at these babies. If you play your cards right, you might get to take a couple extra pairs home with you. The bonus is that this is not a turn on for any guy, so you won't have to worry about your partner bugging you about sex anytime soon. These are worse than granny panties. But Sara, that looks a bit overkill- surely you don't need a pad like that. 

Yes, you do. Just get used to the disgusting amount of fluid coming out of your body. Everything that nurtured your baby has to come out. Your baby has moved out, and it's furniture needs to come out too. Just like when you evict a squatter- it all has to go. Your regular period pad is not equipped to handle it. 

Oh, and don't forget your stool softener. 

Oh yes. Nobody really tells you that the first poop after having a baby is what I have always referred to as "birthing the phantom twin" because it truly is quite the experience. All on your own. It's the only other time where you will implement your labor breathing techniques long after the baby has been evicted. There are grab bars in the hospital bathrooms for a reason, ladies. They will give you these almost immediately after you have your baby and if you can at all control it, having two doses before trying to poop is ideal. But even then... breathe and grip the bar for dear life. 

But even after you come home, pooping is not always fun. The only down side is that moment when you realize you've been taking these for a week and you have that morning where it's like your body has saved the best for last and you have diarrhea, while holding a one week old baby during a feeding and trying desperately to fill your squirt bottle and wondering how clean your bathroom floor is because there's no way you can deal with the pad situation one handed and you might have to lay your baby down on the floor. That very much is a two hand job. 

Honestly, these are the only things I needed when I came home. Not including the pain killers because, surprise!!!, holding a baby and getting up/down, sitting, and laying can all cause your vagina to hurt so you will most definitely need them for at least a little while. 

Now I am seven weeks since having Penelope and I just had my follow up appointment today. She basically does a breast exam, feels your tummy area to make sure your uterus is back to normal, and does a quick vaginal exam. All of my stitches are gone, so that's good. I remember when I had Olivia they didn't all go away until closer to 12 weeks but also because I had a lot of them to fix my tear. This time I was only a level 2 tear, normal and not bad at all, so they are all healed up nicely. Thank goodness! Not that I'm trying to have sex right away. God no. Ugh. 

First Shoes: baby gift tutorial

I'm slowly getting back into crafting since having Penelope. Oddly enough, I feel more crafty in the summer than I do in the winter, which is weird because I'm stuck in the house all winter, you'd think I'd be gang busters with the crafty things. But no, I think between the kids being in school and obligations I have during the school year, I'm left with no time, energy, or brain activity to do any of it.

But I have a cousin having her first baby, so I thought, perfect gift idea: I'll make a shadow box for her first shoes. I had done this with Olivia and Jackson's shoes, and I have them hanging up in our hallway next to my absolute favorite pictures of them, both at 9 months. I have the things to make a box for Penelope as well, and I already know which shoes are going in.

Aren't these adorable? It's hard to tell, but the glass says "first shoes" using Making Memories rub on letters. Each box is painted to match the shoes, and the back board has a piece of matching pattern paper that coordinates with the shoes and paint. Also, I used rub on letters for their names and the  year they were born. It's a really simple craft, something you can make for a baby shower gift- who doesn't love a personalized gift?

To get started, you need a wooden shadow box. The ones I used for mine above weren't as deep as the one I found for the project I'm doing today. The box I have now is much more deep, which works out because then you don't have to worry about the shoes fitting. Olivia's box above could have been deeper, her shoes are kind of squished in there. So I recommend taking the shoes you are crafting around to make sure they will fit in the box.

Find a piece of pattern paper that compliments the shoes you are using, as well as paint for your box. Now, because my box is so deep, I had to decide if I was going to paint just the outside or if I would paint the insides as well. In the end, I decided to just paint the outside. I ended up doing two coats of pink acrylic paint and used a foam brush because it's what I had handy.

For the letters, I used Making Memories rub on alphabet letters. I didn't have enough of one letter font, so I ended up using one font for the name, one for "first shoes". Because the box is so deep, I decided to use the letters on the front of the glass so it would look like there was more depth to the project.

Once that was done, I adhered the pattern paper to the back board of the box, I used my regular scrapbook adhesive. You can also use Mod Podge, but because I used my last foam brush on the paint, I had to improvise. I also found a coordinating pattern paper to adhere to the sides of the box since I didn't paint, and I didn't want to see wood.

That's what it looks like with the shoes. Now, obviously you aren't going to gift this with the shoes adhered inside the box. I usually gift the shoes (obviously) with a very small tube of E6000. I find that a couple dabs of that holds the bottoms of the shoes to the inside of the box VERY well. So the parents can do that once the shoes no longer fit. And, the more worn the shoes are? The better.

The best thing? Is that if you put the name on the glass, and say... the parents chose to name their kid something else, you can rub the letters off with a razor blade and it's just fine. (Have fun with that, Stephanie and Kyle!!) HA!

Eleven

Good golly, Miss Molly. Matt and I will officially be married eleven years shortly before 3 p.m. today. Which, is kind of weird. Sometimes it feels like we've been married forever and other times, I think eleven years is just a drop in the bucket. It's nothing, really.

In hindsight, we were literally babies when we got married. I was 22 and Matt was almost 24 on our wedding day. We thought we knew it all. We had our own apartment, we had our college degrees, we had great jobs. We knew we were going to have kids right away and buy a house. We were going to do everything you do after you get married. Because that's just what you do. You grow up, get married, buy a house, have kids. It's practically a guideline for adulthood.

Except we were in no shape ready to do any of those things. We scoffed when people said we should do pre-marital counseling. We had a GREAT relationship, we never fought, we were madly in love. It wasn't like we had issues. Now we know better and ended up doing pre-marital counseling when we were married for three years and in a marital crisis because, SURPRISE, problems will happen. Your spouse will disappoint you, you might even get hurt along the way, and you'll want to throw in the towel. Because what nobody ever tells you about marriage is that it is the hardest relationship to sustain.

Of all of the people we knew getting married around the same time, it's us and one other couple who are still married. Everyone else is long since divorced and have not one nice thing to say about each other. Matt and I came damn close in 2007 and honestly, the only thing that held us together was me learning I was pregnant with Jackson. I think if he hadn't been on his way, we would have gotten divorced and that would have been that. I like to think maybe that's why Jackson is so sweet, he had a bigger job in life and he didn't even know it.

But in eleven years, Matt and I have learned the following things through trial and error, and more counseling than we'd like to admit:

• In our own way, we are difficult to live with. 
• I have a tendency to be awful. Sometimes my sarcasm and joking around isn't well received by Matt, though it's never my intention to hurt his feelings. I hate to say it, but sometimes we're like Jon & Kate Gosselin. Truly. People rip that couple to shreds, but I'm very much Kate- organized, controlling, bossy, demanding and Matt is very much like Jon- everything could be going to absolute shit and not a single crap is given. Which sends me over the edge because I don't always do well in chaos. 
• His indifference to life makes it hard for me to enjoy myself sometimes. 
• We aren't always a good team together. We are a couple that would only make it onto shows like The Amazing Race just because we would bring the drama factor, not because we had any chance at all at winning. 
• Sometimes I have to be submissive to Matt. Which was the HARDEST pill to swallow in counseling. It goes against everything in my body, everything I was raised to be. I was raised to be independent, to not depend on a man for anything. Which, to some extent, is still very much me. But on the other hand, I've come to recognize that Matt does so much better as a husband and father if I defer to him, even on dumb things. I have learned to include him on every decision, and I consult with him before I do things. Even if I know I'm 100% right (because I am, let's be real), giving him that input makes all the difference. And coincidentally, takes a load off my shoulders at the same time. Bonus. 
• I still struggle with trusting him, though it's been years since he's given me reason to not trust him. They same time heals all wounds but I can say with all honesty, I'm still waiting. But I've also come to realize that maybe it's OK for some wounds to still be there. 
• But the most important thing I have learned is that nobody else is responsible for my happiness. At my lowest low in our marriage came the understanding that if I wasn't happy, I had to do something about it. And I started doing things for myself. Taking better care of myself, bonding with my children, re-establishing my friendships I had let go to the wayside in lieu of making my marriage work, and working on my own self esteem. I consider myself a happy person, but not because of Matt. Matt is just one happy and good thing in my life, among so many. There is no thing as a knight in shining armor. No guy is going to come around and change your life and make it all rainbows. You have to do that for yourself, and if you're lucky, you'll have someone you call a partner in life that gets to see you at your best. 
• And on the other side of the coin, no person is responsible for your unhappiness. It's not your husband, or your wife's, fault that you hate your life. That you aren't as happy as you know you could be. You're unhappy because you choose to be. You're relying on someone else to carry your emotional weight in this world and that's nobody's job but yours. Own it. 
• It helps to be absolutely stubborn and refuse to quit. There will always be times where you think you've had enough and maybe the grass actually is greener out there. And it might be. It absolutely could be better with someone else. But then we remember the vows we said, for better or worse, good times and bad, sickness and health, for richer or poorer.... and then realize we're in it for the long haul. And we're only human. We make mistakes. It's a life long learning process and I know he'll be there to help me along when I need it, just as I'm there to help him along when he needs it.

Love you, babe. Maybe someday we'll get to vacation without the kids again. xoxo

All the Single Ladies

Your summer reading list cannot be complete unless you have a book by Dorothea Benton Frank on it. It doesn't even matter which one, but lucky for you, she must have an intense writing schedule because she always seems to have a new one out in time for summer. (Which is incredibly smart because that means her book tours must be an absolute blast!)

All the Single Ladies - Dorothea Benton Frank

The perennial New York Times bestselling author returns with an emotionally resonant novel that illuminates the power of friendship in women’s lives, and is filled with her trademark wit, poignant and timely themes, sassy, flesh-and-blood characters, and the steamy Southern atmosphere and beauty of her beloved Carolina Lowcountry.

Few writers capture the complexities, pain, and joy of relationships—between friends, family members, husbands and wives, or lovers—as beloved New York Times bestselling author Dorothea Benton Frank. In this charming, evocative, soul-touching novel, she once again takes us deep into the heart of the magical Lowcountry where three amazing middle-aged women are bonded by another amazing woman’s death.

Through their shared loss they forge a deep friendship, asking critical questions. Who was their friend and what did her life mean? Are they living the lives they imagined for themselves? Will they ever be able to afford to retire? How will they maximize their happiness? Security? Health? And ultimately, their own legacies?

A plan is conceived and unfurls with each turn of the tide during one sweltering summer on the Isle of Palms. Without ever fully realizing how close they were to the edge, they finally triumph amid laughter and maybe even newfound love.

I absolutely am a Dorothea super fan. I have read almost all of her books (I'm working on completing them all!), I have purchased many copies of her books as gifts, and I look forward to summer every year because she always comes out with a great read to put you into the summer mindset. Another reason I love her books? They aren't heavy. They aren't depressing, they make you want to move to the Lowcountry area, you love all of the characters and it's such a great story. Always. She is always consistently great and I love it. 

In All the Single Ladies, we have three women who are middle age, and trying to start over. We have Carrie, who is on the hunt for yet another husband after the last prospect dropped dead at the altar, leaving her broke. We have Suzanne, who isn't sure her latest foray into dating is going to end well. Then Lisa, who struggles with her daughter's marijuana tour business, is financially unsteady and unlucky in love, meets Carrie and Suzanne after their friend Kathy dies. The three of them end up living together and getting sage advice from Miss Trudie, Suzanne's elderly grandmother. (And let's be honest here- I kind of want a Miss Trudie of my very own.) All three women navigate the waters or dating, all while trying to prove that Kathy's landlord is an absolute thief and stealing from Kathy's estate which ends in a kind of hilarious conclusion. Just picturing it in my head made me chuckle. 

This was such a fast and fun read, I highly recommend adding this to your summer reading! It's light, it's fun, and it'll be a great afternoon well spent soaking up the sun while reading this gem. 

You can purchase this through Amazon or Barnes & Noble. In the meantime, visit Dorothea Benton Frank's website, Facebook and Twitter! 

Summer is HERE

I have been desperate for warmer weather since pretty much the end of last summer. Yes, I realize that I live in Northern Wisconsin so that means it's only warm for maybe three months and that's not even consistent. My body is not meant to be cold. It's just not. Sadly, Matt refuses to move so I'm basically stuck here.

But it's summer now, and it's warm. AND the kids are officially out of school! For awhile, I thought this school year would never end, but then all of a sudden it did and I have no idea how it happened.

Jackson said good bye to first grade. He leaves having learned how to do double digit adding and subtracting, telling time, reading chapter books, and being able to write fictional, non-fictional, and opinion pieces. And a whole bunch more.

Olivia chucked deuces at third grade. She's an excellent reader, master multiplier, doing well with fractions and divisions, really improved her writing and writes elaborate stories with great detail. She even had a part in a "Geology Rocks!" play, she did really well!

The kids on their last day of school, insisting on having Penelope in the picture.

But then of course, one without Penelope too.

Now that summer has officially begun I am fresh out of ideas on what the hell we're going to do every day. Stay tuned and as I find things, I'll share them. The nice thing is that we've gone on a few walks already with Penelope and the great part is she no longer cries when there is a breeze. Handy, since there always seems to be one here. I tried to sit her in grass today and the entire neighborhood is now aware she is not a fan of grass.

I do have a couple of fun day trips planned and I'm biting the bullet and looking at community calendars for things to do. I'm normally not a fan of that stuff because I don't like socializing with people for the most part. I don't want to hear about your mommy group, the products you're shilling to lose the baby weight, and you can shove your essential oils up your rear because I don't care.

So it should end well, right?

Squatting in Target

So once upon a time, we ran out of toilet paper, baby formula, cat food and dog food. It was dark days in the Strand house, and apparently I am the only one capable of solving all of our first world problems. In order to solve these problems, it was clear I was going to need to make a run to Target.

Scary, because when I go unsupervised to Target I walk in with coupons and a list and walk out with a cart full of crap I don't remember putting in my cart, or remember the rationalizations I told myself that made me think we absolutely needed it. Then Matt gets all judgey when he asks questions like, "why do we own five boxes of glow sticks?" and I'm like, "It was in the dollar section- OBVIOUSLY that's a good deal."

He doesn't understand that sometimes, five boxes of glow sticks is absolutely necessary.

Anyways. 

So I deliberately waited until after I had fed Penelope. She has this super handy thing where in the morning, if you feed her, you have exactly three hours to do something until all hell breaks loose and you need to feed her IMMEDIATELY otherwise she turns into a very scary baby. The girl doesn't play with her food. She wants it, and she wants it five minutes ago. 

I fed her. I changed her. I burped her. I got her sound asleep. We then drive to Target. All is well. 

All remains well until I have gotten to the baby formula aisle and put what I needed in the cart. She starts to kind of cry. I'm not worried, I'm sure that if I rock the cart a bit and hold her pacifier in, she'll go back to sleep. 

Cue really rude woman. 

You see, the baby food aisle is also the aisle with razors, which seems odd, but I let it go. The following conversation takes place: 

Rude Woman: Um, do you think you can move? Like just move the fuck down the aisle? You're taking half of it up. 

Me: *blank stare as I'm now holding a screaming four week old and bouncing like a maniac* Excuse me? Does it look like I'm blocking the aisle for fun? Jesus. 

Rude Woman: You know, not everyone appreciates babies. And you could always go home until it calms down. 

Me: *deep breaths and reminding myself I can't go to jail because I do not have money for bail* Yeah, I get that. I also get that that babies cry and I haven't had any sleep in 48 hours so I'm probably the LAST person you want to fuck with today.

THANKFULLY, Rude Woman huffed and left. Except Penelope continued screaming. At this point, I have two choices: pack it up and go home, hopefully coming back later or toughing it out. 

Since by baby number three, you are supposed to be a professional, I decide to tough it out. So I cover her with a blanket, and I hold her with my left arm. Then I proceed to push my cart with just my right hand, all the while I'm doing lunges all through Target. Because apparently, lunges calm her down. She'll stop crying if you do squats or lunges, so I go with that. 

I proceed to lunge all the way through Target, grabbing the things I need. I will say that lifting a 26 pound box of cat litter with one hand into a cart that comes up to my boobs is a bit tricky and I thought for sure I'd throw my back out, but I managed. 

Then? Then Penelope fell asleep. I got a bit cocky and thought maybe I'd have time to get some new underwear since Twinky has eaten four more pairs and it'd be nice to have something not totally stretched out from my pregnancy ass. But no. No, new underwear wasn't going to happen. Because Penelope started screaming and I had to pick her up again. I decide to cut my losses and check out before someone thinks I'm stealing someone's baby. 

By the time we check out, I'm trying to wheel my heavy cart to the van, on a windy day no less, with one hand, with Penelope screaming. Yes, I'm still doing lunges through the parking lot and my thighs are burning and my legs are quivering, the arm holding Penelope feels like it's going to give out and I'm sweating around my boobs. She continues screaming. 

Do you think anyone in the lot, clearly staring at me to see what exactly was going on, would come over and help me get the bags (and very heavy cat litter) into my van? 

No. Not one stupid person offered to help. Which is ridiculous. 

I frantically hurry to get it in, I'm getting Penelope back into her car seat as fast as I can because I'm hopeful that turning on the Arctic Monkeys cd again (she likes it) will calm her down. I drive home quickly once I realize that oh snap, I was gone TWO HOURS and it is now feeding time so the wrath is going to kick up a notch. 

The best part? By the time I get home, she's fast asleep and then slept for another two hours. 

It's a good thing she's damn cute. 

Winner and One Month.

Before I totally forget, let's announce the winner of a copy for their very own of It's Not Me, It's You!

Lucky number 7 belongs to Shann Eve, so YAY! I will be in touch with you Shann, and I'd love to hear what you think of the book!

The big milestone over the last week is that Penelope is officially one month old.

Let that sink in. Four weeks ago, I gave birth to a third tiny little human. Which is kind of strange when I think of it. I've had a lot of alone time with just her and this is the most different parenting experience to date. For one, I'm far more confident than I was with Olivia, but less than with Jackson. I think time has put a dent in my skills because I find myself sometimes feeling like I'm re-learning everything. It's a bit unsettling, to be honest.

Thankfully, she's a really good baby. Honestly. I might complain about being ridiculously tired, but it's not totally her fault. Matt gets up with her 100% of the time at night (glorious), but I'm finding that while I do get to sleep, I'm not really in a deep sleep so I still wake up exhausted. I'm not totally sure what that's about, but it's annoying.

Over the course of a month Penelope has definitely grown, and I can safely say that I think my arms will be in nice shape by the end of summer if her weight gain is any indication. She still has a bunch of hair, though her cheeks are definitely getting chunkier. She looks a LOT like Olivia but sometimes when she smiles she looks just like Jackson.

She poops a lot. And I mean literally every diaper change is poop. Every one. I don't think I have ever had just pee. Which, yay? I mean, at least I don't have to worry about her having constipation issues like Olivia? That's the positive, clearly.

The kids are absolutely in love with her. Often they fight over who gets to sit with her while I get dressed and pee alone. Penelope very much enjoys staring at her big sister and big brother, so that's fun.

She's just getting to the point where she can focus on a toy in your hand and she really enjoys different fabrics. Anything silky is her favorite, with yarn being a close second. We've gone on a few walks around the neighborhood and doing that while walking a dog really sucks, so hopefully that gets easier soon. This is the last week where it's just her and I at home, the kids are done with school on Friday. I'm not sure if I'm thrilled about this or not? I'm kind of loving my time alone with her. What perplexes me is that while I'm still dealing with some depression issues, I feel the closest with Penelope. Like, her and I are bonding way better than I did with my other two babies. To the point where I don't want to leave her. I did leave her with  my mom on Friday for a few hours and it was hard. God knows my mom snuggled her a ton and she was in great hands, but it was weird. It was the first time I ever felt guilty leaving my kiddo with someone. Definitely a strange feeling.

I think tomorrow her and I are going to attempt to run some errands. Hopefully it goes better than the Target trip from last week. More on that tomorrow.