This may be as good as it gets

Emmett is 6 months old today! I'll say it again....6 months old! How did 1/2 a year just flash by in a instant? Emmett is right on schedule with all his milestones. He's a big boy with big feet and a big smile. I, on the other hand, failed to meet any of my post-pregnancy milestones in the first 6 months. I think my original plan was to be running again by 6 weeks post partum and down to pre pregnancy weight by 4 months. I'd like to think I was not living in a fantasy world and that, had delivery gone a little smoother I would be there (but maybe I'm kidding myself). My new goals include running a 1/2 marathon in April and getting down to my pre-pregnancy weight by Emmett's 10 month milestone (following the 10 months on, 10 months off weight mantra).

I find that I have something very strange....cesarean envy. I spent my entire pregnancy reading and working out in hopes to avoid the cesarean delivery. And now 6 months after my regular delivery, I really wish I had a doctor slice open my layers of muscles and organs to deliver Emmett. Maybe I'm crazy....or maybe I think that I might have recovered from a cesarean faster than my own delivery. I know, I know, you will say that it was better for Emmett to come down the "normal" way. But I'm not sure he appreciated being stuck for so long either. Emmett has 1 floppy ear, an ear that sticks out a bit farther than the other one. That ear is Emmett's battle scar from his delivery. He came down ear first and that little ear was just a flat flop of skin when he was born. It actually took a bit to start looking like an ear. If that ear could talk, it might have wished for a c-section as well.

Today, I ran 5 miles...outside....no stopping....no walking. I was so proud of myself for my 44:40 time (just under 9 mins a mile). It's been a long time since I ran that fast or that far. I don't feel 100% back to normal but I did it anyway. As I was running, though, I had a thought. Maybe this is as good as it gets. Maybe, after baby, this is what I have to work with. Honestly, I still have some lingering pain. Before baby, I never thought about running...it just happened. Now, the pain is just enough so that I remember that I had a baby about every other step. I feel how jarring running is on the body and the impact of my footstep resonates through my bones. But, all in all, it's not bad. Today, the snow was falling, the road was quiet and somewhere in there, I realized I was enjoying myself. So, if this IS as good as it gets, I can live with that.

This was my first week as a stay at home mom and I was also proud I made it to the gym every day (and sometimes twice a day). I love my gym with daycare.

Workouts:
3 Jan: 30 min run (.5 mile warmup, 200 meters at 6:53/mile, 200 meters at 10:00/mile for 2 miles, cooldown .5 mile at 6.5mph)
- all around weights, some balance exercises

4 jan: 5 miles on treadmill (pace btw 6.0mph and 6.5mph)

5 Jan: 30 mins elliptical “hill” program, level 8, arms, back and abs
Did ab workout with one of my students at night

6 Jan: Butts and Guts class at Aspen….ouch!
Ran 1 mile after at 6.0 – 6.5
Evening: circuit workout with students + ran another mile

7 Jan: “Recovery day” did Morning mix class

8 Jan: 5 miles (no Frills racing series) in 44:40. Very proud! Ran negative splits.

Itching to start working out again

The end is in sight for me! The end of my varying hours full-time job is in sight.

I ran 3 miles the other day (first time working out in months!) and felt pretty good. It was the first time since pregnancy/delivering that I didn't feel like my body wasn't my own. I have no clue what pace I was running at but at least I was running. I do know that I absolutely cannot run faster than what I was running at. My body only has 1 speed right now.

My "new gym" opens the day after Christmas and comes complete with a super-duper daycare! I have no excuses now. Lately, Emmett has hollered his little head off whenever I try to do P90x. And, it's been a little too cold to take him outside running. (or maybe I'm just overprotective).

I'm really fired up to get back in the groove. Not only will I be able to work out during the day, but I can also work out at night at my job (teaching people how to be personal trainers.) Pretty much, I can just think about fitness all day long, haha. I'm also thinking the more time Emmett and I can stay out of the house, the less dirty it will be!

I am tentatively planning a half marathon in April!

I don't know if I can do this...

I'm having a sudden panic about quitting my job. What's done is done....I can't "un-quit" this job and frankly, I don't want to (it was time for a career change anyway). But I'm freaking out about being able to do "this". The stay-at-home Mom thing. It's just not a natural fit for me. But I feel so incredibly guilty about putting Emmett in daycare. I feel like the amount of hours he has to be there for me to work full-time is unacceptable (I don't mind the actual daycare concept too much...just the hours) But then I feel guilty about dumping my education down the tubes and just walking away from any type of a career.

Eric reminds me I can't have it all. But I want it all. Why is it too much to ask that I can find a challenging and professional career working less than 40 hours a week? Yes, part-time would be ideal. No, I don't want to work retail or fast-food. My current prospect is to transition to the medical field. But then I feel kinda silly to go to school for 5 more years only to hope to work part-time hours.

The internet is sometimes less than helpful. I googled "ivy league stay at home mom" hoping to find some brillant plan...some woman who has gone before me that has it all figured out with the mom/career conflict. Instead, I found this:http://www.nytimes.com/2005/09/20/national/20women.html
An article about how some women in Ivy League schools plan all along to be stay at home Moms. I'm sorry, but that was NOT the plan for me. I will venture to say I could have gone somewhere else and saved a lot of $$ if I did not plan to partake in the workforce.

Stay at Home Moms, don't hate me quite yet.....I WANT to be a stay-at-home mom. And by that, I WANT it to be a great fit for me and I WANT to be really happy and fulfilled doing it. If I could wave a magic wand, I wish I could do it. Being a Stay At Home is a tough, tough job. And it's a very different job from the competitive, career oriented world. And, unfortunately for me, I just have this feeling (OK, I'm lying...I am 99% sure) that I will not enjoy being a Stay at Home Mom. But I love my son. And I don't like our daycare situation. And so I will tackle the Stay at Home Mom job much like other things in my life. I will jump in with two feet and throw myself wildly into occupation.

Bad Luck

Emmett has a "Bad Luck" shirt, I'm sure of it. I don't believe in luck myself so I have tried many times to test my theory of his Bad Luck shirt out. The shirt is plain and unsuspecting...a long sleeve onsie from Old Navy. It's navy blue and I love when Emmett wears it because it shows off his eyes and hair. And yet...he never seems to wear it for very long. The poor shirt has weathered too many diaper blowouts to count and numerous projectile vomiting sessions. I have never washed a shirt as often as that one (espeically considering, we rarely get out of the house with it.)

Consider the other day. Emmett had already had an "emergency" bath earlier in the morning (yes, you know what I mean.) So I thought we were safe. What a perfect day for him to wear his cute little navy blue shirt from Old Navy. I dressed him up and cooed sufficiently over him. Then I took him to daycare. And then I had to immediately change him when we got to daycare. The damn shirt wins again.

Emmett update

16 lbs of lovin' over here! Emmett is exactly 4 months and getting chunkier by the day. He is rolling over all the time now and insists on sleeping with face planted on the mattress (yes, pretty much sleeping ON his nose.) The Exersaucer is still his favorite toy. He has started to actually make it bounce up and down and can also walk all around the toy bar (the seat swivels.)

Unfortunately, he still isn't really sleeping through the night for me. However, when I work night shifts and Dad takes care of him, he always sleeps through the night. Clearly, babies are too smart for their own good. He is still nursing like a champ and I still hate pumping at work.

We are 35 days out from my very last shift with the military. I still have no clue as to what I'm going to do next. I fluctuate wildly between entertaining being a stay-at-home mom and then being convinced I may lose my mind doing it. I have a few job prospects on the table. But, I change my mind everyday. Ideally, I think I would stay home with Emmett until he is one (and also weaned). But, one of the jobs wants to hire in January and will not have openings in the summer. I like working but hate putting my kid in daycare....there are no easy solutions to this puzzle.

One sick baby

Yesterday, we faced a decision point that many working parents have to face. The kid is sick, daycare is sending him home, but both of us have to work...what do you do? I hate that in these situations, the work force seems especially unfriendly to working parents. I understand the daycare's position...who wants a sick kid infecting the rest of them? But, if the parent HAS to work, where else is the kid really supposed to go (assuming it's not severe enough to call emergency contacts). So Eric and I had to compare our jobs on the phone...whose job is more important today? Whose boss is less likely to be pissed off? I literally couldn't leave my job. I had to be in position and we didn't have any extra people to call in that day. Eric was relieving a guy who had been working all night. We eventually decided to send Eric to pick up Emmett...the guy who was working all night in Eric's shop just had to stay and work all day (Terrible!). I feel frustrated because, specifically talking about the military, I think they assume one spouse stays at home. Everyone likes to point out to me "don't worry, you are getting out of the service soon". And while I understand that may "fix" the Buss family problem, it doesn't change the larger issue.

A time of reflection...

For those of you who may have missed it, October 15 was Pregnancy and Infant Loss memorial day. In this midst of this year's Halloween festivities, I take the time to reflect where I've been and where I am now. As I dressed my son in a cuddly fleece bear outfit, I can't help but feel awed at how far we have come and how, gradually, I have reconstructed one of my worst months into a month that can simply exist like all of the other 11 months.


Two years ago, on Halloween, I was laying on the couch in our living room, recovering from a D&C after our second miscarriage. Though all miscarriages are tough, this one was especially hard for Eric and I because we had two "good" ultrasounds on this pregnancy before the miscarriage. Somehow, the pregnancy is a little more real when you see that heartbeat flickering away....and hurts so much worse when you lose it. I also had a terrible experience with the D&C and I struggled to recover physically. I remember Eric desperately trying to cheer me up. When I told him it would be OK to turn our porch light on and pass out candy, Eric rushed to Walmart and came back with at least $100 worth of candy! Somehow, he hoped that he could make things better by wildy embracing the holiday. In between the approximately 5 trick or treaters we got that year (our house was in a new neighborhood and was the only house on the street), Eric tried everything to make me smile. At one point, I told him to leave me alone and "go snort a pixie stick". I couldn't help but laugh when he ended up choking and tearing up with blue powder snotting out of his nose....


Despite the pixie stick snort, I hated October and despised Halloween. What was formerly a drunken costume-fest to me, now became associated with a much darker meaning. For some reason, even 2 years later, I look at that particular October/Halloween as a significant turning point in my life, both personally and professionally. There was the "Before October" and the "After October" and the two sides of the coin couldn't be more different. That October marked the beginning of a fairly long period of dark, dark grief. Almost 2 years later, those months are largely lost to me.


In the midst of our grief over our second loss, I think Eric and I realized how badly we did want a child. It was a painful reality to have to at least consider the alternate possibility, that we wouldn't succesfully carry a child to term. For quite a while after that second loss, I was also unsure of my ability to even chance another pregnancy (and therefore chance another loss). I wasn't sure if I was strong enough to piece myself back to together again.


A year ago, just before Halloween, I finally got another positive pregnancy test. I was pregnant for the third time. This positive pregnancy test was almost a year in coming (and felt like 10 years coming!) I had just about given up...I spent 2009 visiting quite a few doctors and finding few satisfactory answers. I remember staring at the test in disbelief. I didn't tell Eric right away. Part of me wanted to protect him and his emotions if we lost this pregnancy as well. When you have trouble getting pregnant/staying pregnant, a positive pregnancy test is not something to wildly celebrate, rather it's just a tiny, tiny step in the direction you want to go.


I finally put the positive pregnancy test and a bib that says "I love Daddy" into a Halloween goody bag. Eric opened it on Halloween. I remember it was so startling to have a positive pregnancy test and a ray of hope exactly a year after my darkest day. Even with a positive pregnancy test, last fall was an emotional one. Once you have experienced miscarriages, it's all too real how fragile early pregnancy is. Both of us protected our hearts as best we could. We didn't make any plans, we didn't buy anything for baby. Everyday, I expected the worst so that when the worst didn't happen, it was a good day.







I feel like we have made a full circle on this Halloween. In the midst of the candy and decorations and scary costumes and festivities, I felt a fleeting moment of sadness...a moment of acknowledgement to our losses and the losses of others. My heart goes out to anyone who has experienced pregnancy or infant loss and I hope my blog says to you "hey, you aren't alone". But, on the other side of grief, there is also hope...in my case, in the form of a cuddly little boy/bear and his first Halloween.