It shouldn't be this hard.

I have made it no secret that Lucy was very much an oopsie baby. We were taking precautions and none of it actually mattered because my uterus hates me. Maybe she just likes to be busy, I don't know. Lucy is 100% our last baby, that is the plan. Matt has had his vasectomy and they are 75% sure I can't get pregnant if I wanted to because of the tremendous blood loss to my ovaries and also not having any hormones, those are important things. But that means there was the 25% maybe and if Lucy could slip through that teeny tiny window, god knows triplets or something would make it in that 25%. So Matt had the vasectomy because we wanted to make DAMN SURE a fifth baby cannot happen.

So no more babies. We knew that. I know that. I do. I can't remember anything from yesterday but I vividly remember agreeing to no more babies. Done. No more.

Which makes my recent feelings about that really bizarre to me. I remember being sad when we got rid of all of the baby things after Jackson, I definitely did not feel done after him. This time, I feel done. I do. I think. I mean, I guess I don't remember if what I feel now is different back then, but it's really tough.

In the back of my head I had this wiggly, random angry feeling about being done. It's one thing to be done on your own terms, but being told I am done from a medical standpoint? That bothers me. It feels like a parent telling a kid no and they've got that look in their eye when you know they are going to do it anyways. It's just like that. Part of me wants to get pregnant and be like, "SCREW YOU, I can totally get pregnant!" and the other part of me is so damn relieved I don't have to do it again. I never have to deal with the fear of delivery and wondering what if.

Then there are days like today, where I'm trying to clean and organize, and it's not going well. I was getting angry with myself because I don't have the ability to do things like I once could, and I decide that now is the time to clean the cupboard with toddler dishes.

So I lined all of the bottles up and the mesh feeder and I started crying. Crying so hard I almost couldn't breathe. It felt like the biggest punch to my gut, a visual realization that this is really it. Then when I realized that I don't remember any of Lucy's firsts, or what it was like to snuggle her newborn self, the sound of her first laugh, her perfect baby smell, how soft her first hair was, or what she felt like on my chest? I can't remember what it was like to feel her kick in my stomach, or rub my belly, the excitement of labor and knowing she was coming. I cried like someone had died. On my kitchen floor. Alone. I cried and I cried.

I am so angry that all of those moments, especially profound since she is my last, are gone. They have been stolen from me and I can't ever get them back. Worse yet? I have no memory of any of my kids. The only "memories" I have are like actual snapshots in my head. Like the pictures in their baby books is what I have and I know it must have happened because I'm in the photos. I don't have that with Lucy. I don't know what it was like to hold her for the first time, and I imagine I must have felt a lot of things considering I had died.

Matt said he was told that one of the medications they had given me at some point would basically make me not remember the event and subsequent pain, but they didn't know if I'd have any other memory loss- it's kind of a toss up. And in hindsight, know how much is gone, I would give anything to have it all back. I would have taken the horrific pain for these memories. But I know in the split seconds they had, the medical team thought this was best. I can't fault them for that,  I would have made the same call if someone asked me to make that kind of decision for someone else.

I imagine this is what it maybe feels like to have dementia or the beginning of Alzheimer's, there are lots of things you don't remember and you don't remember what you don't remember. If you ask me a direct question, I probably can't answer it, but if I'm not trying to remember, some times it just pops through my head. Like in the dark, until your eyes adjust your peripheral vision is better than looking straight ahead- that's how my brain is. I know the information is there but if I try to remember in a really roundabout way, I can do it. Ask me to recall information right away? Nope.

So that's where I'm at. I am slowly ridding the house of baby things and it's killing me. The crib will likely come out this weekend and I know I am going to be a mess. I know it. I'm scared. I feel like there isn't ever going to be a good time to do it and maybe I need to just rip it off like a bandage. All of my doctors and therapist tell me it's normal to be angry and sad. To have unexpected triggers and it's OK to cry. I don't have to apologize for it, I just need to get myself to the next moment. It all passes, even the moments when it hurts so bad it feels like a tangible pain. I would never wish this on anyone. Never, ever.

Waterboarding with babies.

When we found out we were going to have Lucy everyone said, "Oh, it's going to be so fun to have two close together! They'll be best friends!". I had no idea if that was going to be true or not or if this was just something people said to be polite to your face but then they really say, "Oh man, they are so screwed!" among themselves when they walk away.

Now that Penelope is two and Lucy is almost one, I suspect it's the latter because they are anything but best friends. Most days it's chaos in here now that Lucy is cruising along furniture, so close to walking on her own. Penelope doesn't want her to play with anything, must less touch it. Lucy has quite the temper and Penelope is twice as bad.

Thankfully it's "summer" in northern Wisconsin which means for one day a week it's nice enough to go outside and, if we're lucky, the girls can go in the play pool. I only have a rather small pool for the girls because when I bought it, I only had Penelope and had no plans for a fourth kid. I'm not buying another one because I know I'm not going to use it beyond the few weeks of summer that we have for Wisconsin so we're just going to make this tiny pool work.

When Olivia and Jackson were little, they played so nicely together in the pool so I just assumed Penelope and Lucy would as well. It ended up not being the case at all. You can see early on Lucy knew it wasn't going to go well for her. 

She knows from bath time that the key is to take a wide stance with her legs and brace her arms on the bottom because then Penelope can't push her all of the way down into the water. Otherwise her sister tries to drown her. You can take your eyes off the girls for even a second. She feels total joy when she's on her own and her sister is busy running through the yard.

Then she comes back and Lucy is looking for a way out.

This was after her sister dumped a large bucket of water over her head (cold water, no less) and Lucy is having none of this, is telling us all about it because we clearly did nothing to stop this. She's demanding answers.

Lucy took the toy away in retaliation and now Penelope is angry and coming to tell me about it. Apparently sitting a foot away isn't enough.

I ended up telling her to go play with Jackson because some days she's just TOO MUCH. She's a mama's girl and she's too clingy. I feel like the problem is I don't leave the house enough. But I also don't really have anywhere to go. I don't have money or anywhere really to go. Anyways.

So we brought the sprinkler out and let her run through that which was freezing cold water and she had no idea what was going on.

But if Jackson was doing it, she was all about it. She thinks he's the coolest kid ever and she's under the delusion that she's a much larger kid than she is (the clear downside to this major age gap) so she is much braver and more fearless than Olivia and Jackson ever were.

Poor Lucy though. She's going to be the toughest baby on the block only because she has Penelope for a sister. Penelope is so rough and tumble. Her latest thing is "hug time" from the movie Trolls (her absolute favorite) and she tackles Lucy in her attempt at hug time. She will tackle and do a choke hold. Lucy, for her part does her best attempt at playing dead in the hopes that hug time stops. Poor Lucy. She's such a trooper. Maybe she'll end up in the Marines or something.

Adventures with four: month six

I am absolutely horrific when it comes to updating you all on life with Lucy. I know I was pretty great about it with Penelope but I can barely remember when I ate last so the fact I even remember at all is something, lambs. 

I am fully aware that it is currently mid-April, but all of these pictures are from February, which is when Lucy was six months and Penelope was... something. I can't do the math in my head. But let's recap what I have written in my journal about life in February: 

My mom still comes every day  to help me with the babies. She brings the older kids to and from school, comes back and sits with me at least until I get Penelope in for a nap, then she drops the kids off after school. The time she spends with me is a LOT and I know it's an absolute pain. I know it really sucks to basically be caring for your adult daughter and her gaggle of kids. I know it, and it sucks. I don't feel good about it. I feel like my depression is getting worse. I feel like I am never enough.

Lucy is so great. She really is so great. She's adorable and I want to squeeze her all of the time. She is easy and laid back and it's like she knows she has to take it easy with me.

She is so happy. I always think I can't feel awful when I'm around her because she is always smiling.

Penelope is now at the age where she is a beast. Her in-utero nickname of Master P has been officially earned. She rules the roost here and some days it's all I can do to get myself to bedtime. But for every really hard and awful day there are those where she is an absolute love bug and all she wants is to snuggle. And I love it.

I can tell that Penelope and Lucy are going to be great friends. I think Penelope is going to be a bossy comedian, and Lucy will just take it, but it's going to be a cute friendship.

This one sums up life with these two. Penelope is always a comedian and Lucy is always slightly concerned for her safety or questioning if they should be doing this.

I don't have anything about Jackson this month, but Olivia is amazing. She is such a great help and has changed her first diaper. She refuses to change a poop one, which I don't blame her, but pee? This girl has it. And I don't care, I'll take any help I can get.

I'm gaining weight. The medications are wreaking havoc on my body and I feel so disgusting. I'm at my heaviest ever. Lucy doesn't care though. As long as I continue to bounce on the ball for her to fall asleep, she's fine.

Penelope has now become obsessed with hair. She really enjoys trying to brush  my hair. It's only a matter of time before I start running errands with a comb stuck in my hair.

Lucy can officially sit! Every baby has become an independent sitter at six months. I appreciate their collective consistency on this. The poor girl inherited her mother's thunder thighs so sometimes she just falls over simply because she's so damn round. But she's at least happy about the new view of the world .

Days are hard. Days are so long. I dread being alone with the kids. I am really struggling. I don't know if counseling is even working or just making me worse. But I also can't handle not going, it's become a beacon of hope, those appointments.

There it is, folks. My February update. Check back the rest of this week and I'll have a March update and a few other catch up posts. 

Crafty Saturday: Baby Announcement edition

If you know me at all, you know I am ridiculously prepared for most everything. I am currently planning out our family Christmas card because it always takes me awhile to cut and assemble things and I want to get a head start on them while I can. But I also have my baby announcements done, which I have always filled out before I leave the hospital.

Don't laugh, I can't help myself.

People always laugh and wonder what is wrong with me, but I know if I don't do it right away it will never happen. Plus, it gives me something to do since I'm not a big TV watcher and newborns sleep... a LOT. So I always pull the bassinet up to me and fill the cards out with TV as background noise and take my time.

 My options for paper choices at Michaels was kind of limited, but I found a few pattern papers that looked pretty and were all in the same purple and teal color family. I bought myself a new stamp set and my first little die cut set to go with the stamps so I can use my Sizzix machine Matt got me for Christmas, and Michaels had some purple flowers in their dollar spot.

I had a general idea of what I wanted to do so one evening I spent cutting all of the pieces out.

And over the next few days I assembled. Penelope is at a very need/whiny/be-with-me-all-of-the-time stage so I can only get a few done at a time. Which was OK, I clearly had plenty of time to finish these.

And finish I did! Aren't they cute? My only regret is that the piece directly under the circle? I wish I had matted it in white or something so that it stood out from the background paper. But by the time I noticed it I was already committed so I said this will be good enough.

I found my little foot print stamp and a generic birth info stamp for the inside. I've got my envelopes all labeled and stamped, my little invites for our Meet the Baby/End of Summer BBQ party ready, and everything in my hospital bag. The only thing I'll need to do is print a baby photo and insert it, but I can do that when I get home and do the one hour photo thing and voila- baby announcements are done!

It felt SO GOOD to get that project off of my desk, that's for sure. Not that I don't have a ton more lined up but still. One down..

31 weeks, still unnamed, and I kick up the crazy a notch.

Well being 31 weeks pregnant the fourth time around is... exhausting. This is the first pregnancy where the level of exhaustion is just unbelievable. I don't know if it's because I'm older, because it's my fourth pregnancy, or the fact that I'm busy in general chasing a toddler around but by noon I feel shot for the day. It's not practical for me to be taking a nap, mostly because then I don't sleep well at night, but man.

A nap would be SO nice.

Nesting is in full swing and I forgot to take a picture of the newly painted dresser but rest assured it's painted and in the room Fetus Four will be sharing with Penelope. It turned out so well. And yes, Fetus Four is still unnamed. We've got it down to Lucy Louise James or Eloise Barbara James (or maybe Eloise James Kay) but honestly, nothing jumps out at me. I hate leaving things to last minute but it seems to be the trend with this pregnancy so... yeah.

Another thing that's been bothering me? This constantly feeling that it's not really a girl. The ultrasound technician was only "pretty sure" it was a girl at 20 weeks, and that is just not good enough for me. I'm a planner through and through and I need to know, am I dealing with a penis or not? It's been SO hard to get a follow up ultrasound and at this point I'd rather not pay the added expense so I opted for the next best thing.

Yes, I made a special trip to a pharmacy 20 minutes from my house to buy a $40 gender prediction kit which has mixed reviews. Sometimes you just have to go with the crazy because it's easier for us all.

It said I had to use the first morning urine, but I decided my second morning urine would be just fine because I'm 31 weeks along and surely whatever turns this test either way would be able to be picked up in whatever pee I use. Basically, you pee in a cup and use the syringe to suck it up and squirt it into the bigger container, which looked like it had weird crystals in it. You swirl for a few seconds and wait five minutes. And whatever color your pee turned would determine the sex. Orange was girl, green was boy.

Clearly, mine came out orange. So if I end up with a little boy I will have a panic attack like no other folks. LIKE NO OTHER.

Other than that, week 31 is... week 31 I guess. I can't sleep. I feel like a beached whale. I feel MUCH larger this time around than any other, and the Braxten Hicks contractions are no joke. None. I got them with every pregnancy but it was just a "hey- my stomach is rock hard, that's cool" type thing and very random and I basically stopped noticing it at all. This time around I have thought perhaps I was in actual labor but then no, I fell asleep and all was well. So that freaks me out- am I going to go way early?? I'm not ready. I'm not ready at all.

I need to get ready.

Just in case.

The Name Game. Or, just trying not to give a future President a really terrible name.

I remember when I was pregnant with my first child and I was asked what name we had picked out and I said we were going with Olivia. People looked at me strangely because back in 2005, you didn't hear a lot of Olivia's.

Then I had her and there were two others in the nursery at the same time and I was secretly glad because I don't want a weirdo, never-heard-of name for my kid. They'll go to school someday, they'll have jobs. Maybe they'll be a telemarketer or something that requires them to say their name a lot and I don't want people butchering it. Maybe they'll be President and you don't want a sissy name or something newscasters can't even pronounce.

My inspiration from her name came from the show Law & Order: SVU and I refuse to feel shame for that. I watched a LOT of it while pregnant and it's just a super pretty name.

Fast forward a couple of years and I find myself pregnant, this time with a boy. I knew what his name was going to be but I struggled with Jack versus Jackson. I have a thing about naming a child something you won't even call them. To me it's like, why bother? So if I liked Jack better, that's what he was going to be. But the longer my pregnancy went on I found I really preferred Jackson and he does, too as it turns out. He'll answer to Jack but every once in awhile he'll correct someone and say his name is JackSON. He really emphasizes it.

During my pregnancy with Penelope I realized people are ridiculously judgmental over names. Like, rudely so. They really hope you're naming your baby something weird so they can immediately criticize it. It's like the most exciting thing about someone you know having a baby, apparently. But I knew she was going to be a Penelope and for no real reason. I just really liked the name. I'm a little annoyed there is a Kardashian named Penelope but I can only hope over time they fade away and nobody will ask me if I used that as my inspiration because no, I did not. I just thought it sounded like a pretty name for a little old lady and I liked how it looked on paper.

When I had her all of the nurses and hospital staff absolutely loved it and kept commenting on what a great name.

I know, I'm an awesome name picker.

Now we have Fetus Four incubating, and that's literally what I've been calling it because I have no other name picked out. My early favorite was Eloise and I got some really strange looks and my dad said he'd call her Weezy. Which, is kind of hilarious and not a reason to not name a kid that because my dad has nicknames for us all so no matter what, this kid is bound to get a good one. Then I kind of liked Lucy. Matt liked Lucy more than Eloise but the more I thought about it, I wasn't sold. My mom mentioned Ophelia, and I really liked that one. Almost immediately. But Matt wasn't sold, and he said we should just do Lucy because it's easy to spell and we'd be done.

I need to mention here that I don't actually have any memory of consulting with him on Olivia or Jackson, I basically filled out the paperwork and that was that. With Penelope I told him it was the only name there was and he'd learn to spell it just fine over time.

So this time... why am I consulting? Why am I so wishy washy on a name? I'm 26 weeks along now and I feel like if I can do nothing else, I need to get a damn name for this baby.

I already told someone I was writing this blog post and they immediately asked if I was worried someone would "steal" my name. Um, nope? Because it's a name- thousands of kids will be born this year with the same exact name. I could care less. I don't feel weird about that kind of thing at all. I also don't really care when people offer me bits of criticism about the names.

So yes. We're basically down to Lucy or Ophelia. I wish my gut, which is never wrong, would kick in and tell me which way I should go.

12 weeks. First hurdle done.

I haven't been feeling well the last few days, which is why I haven't updated you about my twelve week prenatal visit. But I have photos so that should make up for it.

So on Friday I had a super busy afternoon and I figured I had it all timed perfectly so I wouldn't be rushing anywhere. Well, when you are a patient in one of the best (and busiest) OB/GYN offices in your area, nobody gives two craps about your really awesome planning.

Because everybody is all, "LET'S GIVE BIRTH RIGHT WHEN SARA HAS HER APPOINTMENT!"

Normally, I wouldn't have cared but because I was doing the first trimester genetic screening and ultrasound, I had to come with a full bladder. And it was as full as it could possibly be because I am an over achiever like that. So I'm sitting in the waiting room, legs crossed, rocking back and forth so I didn't pee my pants. And of course, I keep feeling like I have to sneeze and I know damn well that if I did, I would have emptied my bladder on that floor in five seconds flat.

Thankfully for the custodians, I did not.

BUT!

I got to stare and listen to some super strange people. First off, the girl behind me can't have been more than 19, maybe 20, and she's there with what looks like a parole officer or something. This girl is pregnant with her second child and she's there for her 20 week appointment, just had her ultrasound (it's a girl!) and then decided the basement waiting room with spotty reception is the best place to call baby daddy, who is also in jail, to tell him the good news. But she's got the volume as loud as it goes and talking into it like it's a walkie talkie* and he's screaming at her that of course it's not his because he isn't "able to have girls"**.

*I hate this. Please do not use your phone as a fucking walkie talkie. Nobody around you gives a crap about your conversation, hold it up to your head like you're supposed to do with a phone. 

**This right here is why we need comprehensive sex ed in schools. This guy ACTUALLY believes he is incapable of producing a female child. *sigh*. 

Anyways. So I finally get called back, and I don't know why, but I keep getting brought to the ultrasound room way in the back, and that's where I learned I had lost my baby (the baby before Penelope), and ever since then, I have high anxiety when I go in there. Like I need to just brace for the worst.

Which, no need to this time because Baby Four is very active.

Obviously too soon to tell what we're having, but Baby Four did karate kicks and was doing somersaults all over the place. Which I am sure is going to just be a total treat in a few weeks when I can feel it!

Then I got to see my doctor, who I really like. She's just very laid back and nothing worries her and she's just very much a "it is what it is" kind of gal and that's great. It's super great unless you're dealing with major depression and feeling awful about it.

We talked about depression medication options and though my nurse practitioner 4 weeks ago said I ABSOLUTELY COULD NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES take Lexapro (which is what worked for me a few years ago), that's what my doctor prescribed me. She tells me it's a Class C drug which means they are pretty sure it's fine to take, but they haven't done drug testing trials on it during pregnancy because to find that many women willing to risk their baby in the name of prescription testing is next to impossible. But she's sure I'll be fine.

So I reluctantly leave.

I went home later on and did some basic Internet searching and you guys- I am terrified to take this. I can't even tell you how many pages and discussions boards I found with people talking about heart defects, breathing issues, etc that baby developed while mom was on Lexapro. I have friends who assure me it'll be fine but it's the worrier in me that's like, if it will happen to anyone, it will happen to me. 

But I also feel really awful so realistically, I have to do something.

So I went to the pharmacy to get it. And they refused to give it to me. I'm not kidding. They refused. Told me I should ask my doctor for more information because I was pregnant and there are known side effects and risks.

So.... I left without it. I have a call into my doctor but fuck. It's so frustrating. Again, I'm mentally debating to myself- is it better to just be sad the entire time with a few good days and know I'm not putting my baby at risk OR do I say my mental health is worth more than the risks? If something, heaven forbid, happened to the baby because of me being on this, I would go right over the edge. I would feel endlessly guilty and like a horrible mother. I don't know that I'd really recover from that, you know?

In the meantime, I am down four pounds in the last four weeks and have a bump.

12 weeks

A week of Penelope: week 11

Actually, if we are getting technical, she is 12 weeks this week, but these photos are from last week. As my friend Shirley would say, the end of two months old is when the unicorn glitter has pretty much worn off. We are seeing some personality beyond the "I'm super cute, just squeeze and kiss me all day". She still wants those things but honestly, this kid is heavy. We've got to be pushing 15 pounds and while this isn't much to carry from the trunk of your car to the house, hauling this around all day with one arm is heavy. You'd think by now I'd have some guns for arms but no. Granted, I'm not as flappy so there is that.

Although she has excellent head control, we still do tummy time because she has to learn how to roll.

This is basically what she thinks about it. She's not pleased.

Some days (just kidding, MOST days), 5:15 p.m. is the most glorious time of the day. Matt gets home then and Penelope knows that means she gets passed to him. He will feed her as soon as he gets home and she will almost certainly pass out on his chest. I maybe have struggled all damn day to get her to nap in her crib (she will not break me, dammit!) but it all goes to hell because he falls asleep on the couch with her as I cook dinner. It's kind of adorable, and I hate myself the next day when she somehow thinks that's what I'll do all day with her.

I found a used jumperoo on a Facebook sale page and after cleaning it and managing to get the seat cover (on my OWN, folks) off to wash (and subsequently back on, on my OWN), we gave it a test spin.

She pretty much loves it.

Enough where I've been able to consistently eat either breakfast or lunch (but not both, she will not stand for two meals in a day under her regime). She doesn't fully understand how to reach for the toys attached to it, so I've put her favorite ball on some linky doo's in there and she basically holds that and licks it while standing there. Whatever, I'll take it. 

2 months

I can hardly believe that Penelope is two months old already. Some days it feels like, "holy crap- how are you two months??" and other days it feels more like, "Are you kidding me? It's ONLY been two months?!". But every day is certainly different and fun with her.

First off, she makes hilarious faces at me.

It feels wrong to laugh at her but I do it anyways.

She's a huge snuggle bug. She's most happy when being held, but holding her monkey or jingle puppy (not shown) are close seconds.

She absolutely adores Olivia, but I think she likes Jackson more. Mostly because he puts on "puppet shows" for her every day with random toys. He makes up voices and everything.

She smiles at him all of the time. She probably thinks he's nuts.

But she's often pretty chill.She is hands down, the easiest baby I've ever had. And yes, she is as long as she looks here.

Sometimes she zones out.

But then she starts smiling and you can't help but want to squeeze her guts. Or just her thighs.

She is a fan of eating, not so much a fan of napping but she'll do it under duress.

She's the sweetest little thing. Totally happy with life. Every morning when I go into her room, as soon as she sees me she starts flailing, smiling, and trying so hard to coo. It's the best start to a day, easily.

I thought staying at home would be really hard with a baby, and so far we've had a few difficult days, but for the most part it's a breeze. I am in love with this baby and even just a few hours away from her is difficult. I'm clearly her favorite, and that doesn't hurt either.

What day is it anyways?

I'm not kidding. I thought pregnancy brain was bad this time around but honestly, baby brain is worse. The bonus to having to go back to work eight weeks after having a baby was that I had to keep on track of things like, days of the week and a general sense of the date. But this time, since I'm off work until the fall, I literally have no idea it is anymore. I know today is Tuesday only because Olivia reminded me she has dance tonight, but beyond that it's all kind of a blur. I pretty much have no idea where in the month of May we are, and that's kind of an awful feeling.

The other thing I'm struggling with this week is depression. I think I'm beyond the "baby blues" and that I've moved right on to post-partum depression, though it's not nearly as bad as it was with Olivia. Which thank god, because my summer would be horrendous if that were the case. I didn't have anything with Jackson so I had hoped that maybe this time if I got anything, it would be just a few days of hormonal madness and then I would be fine.

And then I thought I was fine. I had a couple of really good days where I felt on top of everything and like I could manage it all and be just fine.

Until I decided to venture out into the world with Penelope and interact with people and try to connect with other adults. A few people mentioned how tired I looked, which isn't good considering Matt mostly does all of the night time feedings. He's exhausted but he's also not getting a lot of sleep. I'm exhausted because even though technically I can sleep, I'm not getting into a deep sleep so it's useless. I can't sleep during the day when Penelope sleeps because if by chance I do fall asleep, I have a fear I won't hear her cry because I don't really hear her at night. So that's out.

The other kicker? I have lots of people who offered to come and help, watch Penelope on their own, take Olivia and Jackson for a night, or all three, let Matt and I go out for dinner kid free, a whole variety of things. And none of it sounds good. I'm at the point where I don't really want to leave my house, and I don't really want to see people. I don't really want to do anything. I also don't want to leave Penelope with anyone, which is the strangest part of this whole thing. I remember when I had Olivia, I was so depressed I didn't want to be with my baby at all. Like not even a little bit. I would beg for someone to just come watch her, I would beg Matt to come home early from work, just to get away from her because I couldn't do it. With Penelope, I don't feel any of that. I just want to hold her all of the time (handy since she doesn't like to be put down to sleep) and be alone.

So I don't know. I called my OB office to see if I can get an anti-depressant and maybe I didn't sound convincing enough but they really want me to try to make it to my six week appointment, which is in three more weeks. I guess my next plan is to just call every single day until they get fed up. What I should really do is leave a message for the nurse at 4am, which is usually when I'm rocking Penelope because Matt has gone to work and I just cry in the rocking chair with her. I get it all out before the kids wake up for school so I don't make them worry. But the thought of being on anti-depressant again makes me feel a thousand times worse. Yes, I know it's beyond my control. Yes, I know they can be helpful and if you need them, you need them. But I also know I've tried several different ones over the years and every one of them make me feel nothing at all. Like I'm in a box of gray. No happy, no sad, nothing. I'm ambivalent towards things that should make me happy or proud. Things that should make me angry or upset don't even make sense to me. I feel foggy. I feel like I'm constantly in the state right before you get the flu really bad- achy and tired. So my options are feeling all of that or crying randomly. It's kind of a terrible choice, really.

The worst right now is having people tell me that it'll get better, that they had the blues too, that I look really great anyways, or worst of all- to enjoy this time with her. Like, fuck you and "enjoy this time". Seriously. Who wants to enjoy hours of rocking a baby while crying? If you enjoy that, there is something really wrong with you.

Bah- who knows. Maybe tomorrow I'll be better. It's not awful every day. It's very up and down. Some days I feel really great and I can't get enough baby time with her. Other days I feel like I can't get enough baby time with her but I'm crying and I don't know why.

But it'll be OK. It always works out. Somehow I always manager to pull myself out of these ruts.

I'm an auntie. First time EVER.

Way back in May when my brother told me that he was not only getting married this summer but that he'd be a daddy in November, I thought for SURE he was kidding. Not because I didn't want those things for him, but because he told me for years he didn't want kids at all. And Matt's sister doesn't want kids and his brother maybe does but hasn't met a good girl yet, so I had resigned myself to never having any nieces or nephews to spoil and love. 

But then Travis was getting married and having a baby. Well, Krystle was. I cried at their small wedding because he's my baby brother, you know? I was beyond ecstatic the entire time Krystle was pregnant and totally got to give them a baby shower. I bought tons of cute girl outfits and toys, and having her pregnant really helped me get through my miscarriage earlier this year. I figured at least one of us would have a baby, and if it isn't me, that's OK because I could still love this baby too. 

Then as it turned out, I got pregnant again, and I won't lie, I feel like I can't be super excited because I don't want to steal their thunder. They are first time parents and they should be getting showered with cute and adorable baby things, attention, and just tons of support and love. I never wanted to be that annoying sister and sister in law trying to outshine, and I just want to be 100% supportive. 

Because I get it. Being a first time parent is hard. It's not hard when you are surrounded by family who are helping you and making you feel like it's totally OK that your baby is crying because that's what babies do. They get all cute, then they cry. And that's my goal- I just want to be here without being overbearing. 

But dammit if I wasn't on the damn EDGE the day I knew Krystle was being induced. I think I only texted my brother three or four times. I almost did at least 50 but I thought no way- I would drive him crazy. But no joking, when he told my mom and I to come up to the hospital around 4:30 p.m., I got so excited and I was so thrilled and humbled he wanted us there. I totally wanted to be there but no way in hell was I going to ask. We drove there super quickly, we got semi-lost in the hospital and got there thinking it would be any minute and no. No, it wasn't any minute. 

In fact, Adriana wouldn't be born until 6:13 a.m. the next day. And you know what? That was OK. Because having had two kids of my own, I never got to see it from the other side of the bed. And it was a pretty amazing experience for me, especially when I tried to mentally take notes knowing I'd be doing this very same thing again in May. And dammit if Krystle wasn't a damn trooper, because she was. You never know how you'll be in labor until you're there and she did amazing. I can't even tell you how amazing. This girl pushed for five hours. She never gave up, she just did it. And Travis was literally the best coach. So while I'm watching life be brought into this world, and I'm so proud of her, and I'm tearing up because my brother is being an amazing dad already, I look to my mom and she's tearing up because I can't even imagine what's going through her head, and it was just amazing. I see Krystle's mom tearing up, and her dad is just being a great coach too, and honestly? I don't think a baby could possibly be brought into a room full of any more love. I really don't. And she was just the sweetest little thing. 

But shortly after she was born, mom and I left. We had all been up for well over 24 hours, we were all exhausted, but I figured I'd come back to snuggle Adriana the next day and let the new mom and dad get their wits about them. 

Me and my niece, Adriana, one day old. 

Can I just tell you that holding that baby for two hours made my uterus hurt? I had cramping, I felt movement, I think Baby Strand was jealous. I told Matt as we were leaving that if I wasn't already pregnant, I would have been the next day because if holding an adorable baby doesn't give you baby fever, you are dead inside. Plus, she clearly smiled at me. She clearly loves me. 

But they've been busy. Adriana is a week old now and I got to see her before Travis and Krystle went back home. I hope to see them before Christmas. Maybe I can sneak a weekend down there to get a baby fix and let them go on a lunch date or something. 

Visiting Auntie Sara

Matt took this picture. Can I just say she has a perfect baby butt? Totally fits in the palm of your hand. 

 She woke up as they were leaving, after she had been fed and changed (I got to change a diaper! It was kind of adorable.) so I had to get this picture of her eyes open. Such an adorable baby. After they left, Matt said he was worried I wouldn't hand her over, ha! But I did because Krystle is a natural mom and Travis is totally smitten with his little girl. I have no doubt they will do a great job. I can't wait to see her grow up and do great things.