More Grrrrr......

Stephen Harper and his merry band of white male traditional twits are at it again....slamming adoptive families and infertile couples that is.

The federal election is upon us in Canada, and with it comes much mudslinging, but usually family life is off-limits. We tend to stick with the issues. Rarely, we might notice a family picture on a brochure, or politicians making jokes about something their kid did. The media tends to go along with it, and only makes mention of major life events, like someone getting married, etc...

But now, with this quote,

“I don't know Stéphane Dion all that well,” Mr. Harper said when reporters asked whether he feels the Liberal Leader is a family man.

“But I presume that he's been married a long time, has children. I presume he's a family man also.”

Harper has crossed the line, and if you read the comments on that article, you'll see how sick the implications have become. I blogged about this before, I have become incredibly furious at the insinuation that adoptive kids aren't really family, or that international adoptees and non-white adoptees are somehow less Canadian, less worthy of the status of white biological "ordinary" kids.

You see Stephane Dion, the leader of the Liberal Party, admitted a few years ago in the Globe and Mail that he and his wife have gone through infertility and they then adopted their daughter from Peru. From Chatelaine:

"But there was a missing element in their carefully planned life – children. When they discovered that they couldn't have a child of their own, they went to Peru and adopted Jeanne, the daughter, now 19, they still call their Inca Princess. While Dion did the legwork – staying in Peru for months at a time to fulfill adoption requirements – Krieber stayed in Montreal and ultimately organized their marriage, which had never been part of their plan but became a necessary convenience for the adoption process."

Because of that quote Stephen Taylor implied that the conservatives were going to try to contrast Harper's "ordinary" family.

Like, adoptive families aren't ordinary.

And infertile families aren't ordinary.

And childless families aren't ordinary.

And non-white and mixed race families aren't ordinary.

And families with two mommies or two daddies must not be normal either, eh?

And here they are with their stupid "Family Man" ads trying to say that if you don't have a family, you aren't capable of being the Prime Minister? Nice vicious attack on the childless voters. Seriously, so they actually think that a US strategy will work up here? Especially when they keep trying to play the pro-lifers and pretend they will enact an abortion law? (Yes that's right, they hate abortion, and adoption and are trying to use codewords to hack at their opponents manhood. Nice. And Harper doesn't even know why the Dions were infertile, but the implication is there that Harper has mighty strong sperm and this will make him great prime minister. LOL )

If you are Canadian, just know that when you vote, Stephen Harper only thinks you matter if you live in a Leave it to Beaver family. And only if you had your kids, the "God-endorsed Conservative Way", by having sex. No orgasm sex thank you very much.

They are the ordinary family people you know. Godly and such.

Please pass this post around to everyone you know, just in case you have Canadian readers. I can't believe these boneheads.

Favourite chocolate cake

I've been trying to figure out why I have such an emotional response to Sarah Palin (you know, besides the part where she thinks I should be dead....) and I'm still puzzling over it. I'm getting there, I think.

I'm getting nowhere writing about Georgia. Maybe tomorrow. So apropos of Marie Antoinette, I've decided to eat cake instead. Or be a peasant. Or whatever.

The picture above is the one I baked for Kaz on his birthday.

It is a traditional oil cake, invented many years ago when money was scarce and eggs and milk were expensive. Nowadays, it's a yummy and moist alternative for the lactose intolerant like me, or if someone has an egg allergy.

Chocolate Cake

(fits an 8 inch square or round pan, double the recipe for a 9 inch by 13 inch pan)

I don't know if cake flour or all-purpose flour is better---there is a big smudge on the hand-written page, so that is information lost to time. I personally always use Fry's cocoa, but I suppose any would do.

1 1/2 cups flour
1 cup sugar
3 tablespoons cocoa
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt

Sift or mix these ingredients with a fork into an ungreased pan. I line mine with parchment paper.

Make three holes in the pile of dry ingredients.

Now, in each hole, place one of these:

1/3 cup of salad oil
1 tablespoon vinegar
1 teaspoon vanilla

Pour one cup of of cold water over all, and mix well with a fork. This is the fun part where the baking soda and vinegar meet and it looks like a volcano!

Bake 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Cool and frost.

Tomorrow

I'll write something better tomorrow about my feelings about my anniversary, but for now I'm tired and cranky and wondering something.

I was pretty shocked to see this word used to describe the Republican VP's husband, and figured it must be because US media types had no idea how ignorant it is. I assumed that they have rarely met a first Nations person or perhaps knew nothing about the policy issues. Supposedly Presidents and politicians in the US rarely bother with aboriginal issues, and it certainly doesn't appear anywhere in their policy platforms. And then Palin used it herself, to describe her own husband, and seriously, I just about fell over right there and then. Using "that word" to describe any First Nations person here, would be an automatic death sentence for a politician. It's not quite the n-word--but it's not okay.

Turns out that in Alaska, Wikipedia says it's not a big deal. Are they right? Here we say Inuit, and the equivalent first nation there would be Yupik, but the term Alaska Native also might fit.

So what's up dudes? How did a word the rest of the world thinks is disgusting and pejorative become so normal in the US?

Do any of my US readers know about aboriginal issues and terms? Are any of you native? Have you ever seen a reservation, or a reserve? I am really really curious about this.

For all of you

Thank you thank you thank you for each of your comments and lovely kindnesses. A special thank you goes out to Lisa B for coming with me to Matthew's gravesite, tidying up the grass that had grown over it, and helping me remove the dirt that had fallen into the letters on his headstone.

I want it to look nice---I can't do much for him, but I can do that.

Toronto Life has a feature on bereavement blogs and newer traditions around mourning this month. You can see the cover here, but unfortunately it won't be online for awhile. Go buy it if you can, it's a really really good article.

That's all for now folks, I have to go look over some preliminary plans for my new house. So far, I'm not sure the architect understood what we wanted, but then again, I haven't emailed the man in two weeks, so he probably thought we fell off the earth!

Time to get the pencils out....

Ten years ago today

Ten years ago today, my son died.

You can read about it here and here and here.

I'd like to say that I'm able to dedicate my entire day to thinking about him and looking at his pictures, but I can't do much because the living kids are demanding my attention.

Mac's first day of school is today, and Kaz left for some sort of male bonding thing with school, (all the grade 7's go away for a few days to get to know each other and start off the school year.) And Julius wants to be fed and cuddled and hugged and play with me.

I am going to go visit his grave now, and tidy it up, and leave some flowers.

Sometimes it feels like yesterday and sometimes it feels like a million years ago. Mostly, it just feels like it happened to someone else.

I never thought I would terminate a pregnancy. No one ever does I guess.

Why I keep blogging about this

So, my newest bet is that in actuality, Sarah Palin is trying to be the new Michelle Duggar.

Frankly, I think that she has confused the Vice-Presidency of the United States with the Jerry Springer Show, or maybe she thinks it's some sort of new reality series?

So now that we know that Bristol is the one who is pregnant right now, I'm left with a couple of conclusions to choose from.

Either:
1) Irish Twins: Bristol is the mother of both, and got pregnant very very quickly after having Trig. So what about the 5 months pregnant? We all know that the 2ww means that she is really 4.5 months along, and the way teenagers ovulate she could have conceived no problem right away. A week leeway here and there---and who knows what the truth is. Maybe the family started the fake pregnancy because Bristol and her boyfriend have no health insurance and so the baby would have no health insurance if she was the mom. And the last thing on earth anyone wants is for a kid with Down's Syndrome to have no health insurance in the United States.

So the possibility exists that a current Governor of the US and possibly the next Vice President of the United States has committed insurance fraud and faked a birth certificate.

Or:
2) Bristol is pregnant now, but is not the mother of Trig, meaning that abstinence education really is a terrible idea. And her mother is an ass for accepting the Veep nomination under these circumstances and exposing her to this hell. If Sarah is the mother of Trig, then I go back to my original post on this subject, and she took extremely dangerous risks with her baby when she travelled 22 hours back to Alaska while in preterm labour with broken water.

And that leads to the conclusion that either Sarah Palins is an utterly incompetent mother who didn't take care of her pregnancy, or that even after four pregnancies she is too stupid to know that broken water and preterm labour mean that she should immediately go to a hospital. If her Doctor told her it was okay to fly, then he/she should be sued for malpractice, since so far, I can't find one perinatologist who thinks that is anything but insane. (And fwiw, I asked my own Doc, who laughed and wondered aloud if Palin was trying to take the roundabout way out and end the baby's life without getting an official abortion, because really, what she did---is that medically ludicrous.)

So the US is left with a VP candidate who is either a crook or an idiot. Lovely.

Obama's response was not only to be expected, but in my opinion, totally appropriate. Not because his mom was 18 when she had him, but because he has daughters himself, and they may be small now, but they are about to grow up and be teens in the middle of his White House term. You just know that since TV reporters began noticing the kids of Presidents the single biggest nightmare of every political strategist is a First Daughter getting into trouble, whether that means drugs, or pregnancy, or bad boyfriends, or God only knows what.

Patti Davis gave Reagan's advisors ulcers, and Chelsea scared the crap out of everyone, not to mention the Bush twins. So yeah, Obama is right to worry. The Secret Service has their jobs cut out for them.

So why do I keep going on about Palin?

Because this woman and her pro-life buddies think that women like Cecily and I should be dead, and have told me so, in comments and by email. I respect Sarah Palin's choice to not have an abortion, but she sure doesn't respect my choice to have one.

She thinks live women should just have died. So fuck her, the gloves are off.

Tomorrow is the ten year anniversary of Matthew's death, and this week is very difficult for me. Next week on the 7th, it is the fourth anniversary of Georgia's death. I admit it, I'm sensitive. I just can't help but contrast the care I took with my pregnancy with him, even when we didn't know if we were going to terminate, with her casual disregard for her baby's welfare. I was told to never be further away than 15 minutes from a hospital that could handle a high-risk pregnancy and had a level 3 NICU. And I did that, even when it meant cancelling work obligations and being unable to take care of my older son.

We in the infertililty/baby loss community have sacrificed so so much to have our families and she, a woman who condemns me and trumpets her pro-life beliefs, can't do the same? And I'm supposed to hold my tongue and not jump on the scandal?

No way.

you'll never believe this one.....

For the record, I am supportive if anyone chooses to carry a pregnancy to term after receiving a bad diagnosis, their choice, their body, and frankly, I'll gladly contribute tax dollars to help them raise their disabled kid to be hale and hearty. But considering all the moral condemnation that they like to heap on my head for making my choice, it's hypocritical for them to do anything less than take perfect care of a pregnancy. You can bet your ass that if Palins was a crack addict instead of an upper middle class Governor they'd be all over her.

But wait---something has happened. hahahahahahahaha

It turns out that Sarah Palins is not quite what the McCain camp thought she was, and that there is a good explanation for her doing that insane thing where she flew all over the damn place while supposedly in labour and with leaking amniotic fluid. Turns out that...drumroll please---she was NEVER in labour at all.

She was never pregnant. It was her daughter's baby!

Poor kid, her own mom steals her baby, calls it hers and carts the kid all over the world using him as a political prop, and all she gets to do is secretly hug him in the background. Meanwhile, my question is, who faked the birth certificate? Why lie to the press about this? When you are as well-known as this woman was, how could you ever think that you would get away with this? And when are criminal charges going to be laid?

I knew something was wrong....I just knew it. And for the record, one of those links has an opinion from an OB who agrees with my last post, lock stock and barrel. (And I never saw his quote, until I arrived back from Wonderland tonight.)

I was right. Mother's intuition I guess. You know, unlike grandmother's intuition.....hehe

So do you think that when John McCain's head explodes, it will go out his ears, or straight up?

Elections--yayyy

I'm waiting for the kids to get off of a ride at Canada's Wonderland and it seems to be taking a million years for the guys to finish, so what the heck, why not post?

So it appears that there may be an election going on in Canada at the same time that the U.S. election is happening. I'm going to be working away on the election, likely a few Toronto candidates. I can't do a lot these days but I figure I can transport some signs and things for them in the mega vehicle, right?

I'll let you all know if the candidates have any special interest in issues I care about, like maternal infant fetal health, etc....should be interesting considering the recent scandal with listeriosis and Maple Leaf Foods.

Sooo, about Sarah Palin. My condolences to my U.S. friends. What a horrific situation. Nightmare candidate for anyone who cares about choice or any other women's issue. She is pretty much useless to every soccer mom who cares about good schools or prenatal care or health insurance.

But really I'm more concerned about her IQ or rather, lack of it. Most of my readers know the risks of preterm birth and high risk pregnancy. You know that a little over three months ago I almost died giving birth and Julius almost died as well. So how do you all feel about her? Knowing that while she was in a high risk pregnancy with her son, at eight months pregnant, she flew to a conference in Texas, her water broke, she then gave a 30 minute speech, FLEW ON A PLANE BACK TO FUCKING ALASKA, gave birth, then did multiple photo ops with her medically fragile preemie.

She keeps saying it was all about being pro-life, and I laugh because last time I checked plenty of pro-lifers were giving birth in Texas and she sure as hell exercised poor judgement getting on a plane with broken water.

Deadbaby mamas like me believe in choice, but once you've made the choice to have the kid it's time to suck it up and take care of the baby and yourself and fuck your career. Teleconferencing exists for a reason people.

I'd rather miss a meeting than bury a child myself.

What a moron....again my condolences to you all. Go Obama, please God save us from this twit!

Meh

I am trying to get five minutes to post and to return all of your emails...but I am swamped, and also kind of meh about blogging. I'm busy as hell, not just with the baby but also with the older boys getting back from camp, and getting sorted out going to school. Plus the house reno and various other things like taking the kids to Ontario Place. I'm just trying to organize my life and when everyone gets back to school next week and settled in, life will be better. Until then, bear with me people.

I'm also sort of wondering where I fit in the blogosphere these days. I'm kind of a different mom than some of you first-timers, since I've been doing this longer and with multiple kids. (With a few admirable exceptions like my faves Lori and Rachel Inbar, my compadres!) Anyway....it's a bit hard for me to hold back on the assvice when I see some of you freaking out about stuff that really is normal. I try to be kind and reassuring, but occasionally, I stick my foot in it. And sometimes, I know I must sound like I'm talking out my ass.

I've just been through a lot lot lot of adventures with the older ones although long before blogging existed. So I kind of want to share that stuff but not sound bossy or know-it-all. Trouble is, it will end up coming out like that....or more like I'm an ancient old lady, waggling my finger.

And I don't know it all by any means. Like the Swaddle Me wasn't invented then, and it really is the best thing we've bought. I'm still learning things from Julius, who is mystifying me with his bizarre growth patterns. The kid is now doubled his growth at three months, when most kids do it at six months. He is sixteen pounds, 3 ounces as of yesterday. And exclusively breastfed---crappy latch and all. I'm still battling yeast/thrush on and off and finally turned to grapefruit seed extract on the advice on my pediatrician. (Tastes like blech btw, but it works amazingly. Put the drops in honey or maple syrup or something to hide the bitterness, or be smart and buy the pills.) I'm almost rid of it I think, but I'm still breastfeeding anyway. Mostly because I am too lazy to formula feed. I'd rather throw dishes away than wash them, and all that work mixing! Gahhh, am too much of a slacker mom.

Unfortunately I am not rid of my weight....I saw a picture of myself and realized with horror that I haven't lost an ounce of fat, and I really don't like how I look; double chins, ginormous ass and stomach. I never thought I'd lose it all by now--I'm not an idiot, but I thought I'd lose a little bit of fat. You know, gradual weight loss, maybe a pound a week until I could get rid of the fifty some-odd pounds I think I gained. I did lose ten or fifteen after giving birth, mostly baby and water, but then my milk came in and I think I gained five pounds or so. Then I got hungry and the whole plan went to hell and a handbasket.

Did you know that if you eat an entirebagofcookiesextrasteakscandybarsglassesofwinedonutshotchocolatejuicecake that you might gain weight? Or at least not lose any pre-existing weight?

Yeah, somewhere between the two steaks I ate Sunday night instead of one and the giant can of chocolate icing I ate with a spoon in a corner of the couch, I realized that I might have to stop eating like a pig. (And yes, I am being piggy. I really am. This is not just post partum hormones.)

I feel crappy, kind of sad and meh and not liking me. My new purse? After I bought it, I decided it is not as nice as I thought. Mostly because it does not make me look skinny. The pain makes it hard to exercise, but I am trying to move a bit. I've now seen a bone specialist, a physiotherapist, a masseuse, and a chiropractor, none of whom have done me any good so far.

I have lots of stuff to blog about but I just don't know if I feel like bothering. Does it do any good? Is there any point? My horoscope says I need some sleep, and my baby is up more at night.

I just don't know. I just feel fat and crappy. And I hate mirrors right now. And politics. The Democratic Convention is making me cry because poor Hillary is showing such incredible class and I think that she will not be rewarded. And the stupid Harper Tories decide to call an election while people are dying of listeriosis. Nice timing you heartless bastards....might make it easier to beat them, but still....

Crap crap crap, off to sleep.

Twelve years ago today

My darling first child was born.

If you want to know what I was doing on that day all those years ago, just go to this link, and read all about it.

Somehow he has grown up to be the most handsome fabulous manchild ever seen. Almost as tall as me and lean as a whippet, he is smart, funny and oh-so-cool. On the cusp of becoming a whole new person, I wish so much that he could stay this age, frozen in time. When he enters high school in a few weeks, everything will change, and my baby will be all grown up.

I love that he can do a Hail Mary save to catch the puck in the goalposts like nobody else.

I love that he snuggles up with his mom on the couch and watches Buffy the Vampire Slayer episodes.

I love that he is a Wii wizard of fearsome repute.

I love that he is the family engineer who we all depend on to build and repair our machines.

I love that he can cradle his baby brother to sleep.

I love that he has the confidence and natural grace to toss a football with the older bigger guys at his new high school.

I love that he can cry if he needs to and laugh everyday just because.

I birthed him, I raised him, I worship him.

Happy Birthday Kaz. Happy Birthday.

So my new theory on why I am in so much pain after having the baby is a doozy, and one I hope that you will help me figure out--seeing as my Docs are not very creative. Apparently if I just get out and exercise and move a lot, that will fix everything. Except that it doesn't. I have a few stiff muscles and then I get up and get a shower and stretch and they are okay, and I am still doing exercises for physio for my stomach diastesis and they are working.

But the pain is still there, some days worse than others, sometimes livable, other days a terrible searing ache from my toes to my fingers and all the way up my back and neck. The kind of pain that makes you think about lying still and never ever moving again, if only for a little relief. And then on the weekend, I read this story about low levels of Vitamin D and chronic pain.

And then I remembered that last year I had been assessed as having low levels of vitamin D in my blood, and put on a higher level of supplements. And that my osteoporosis was likely worse because of the pregnancy and breastfeeding, even if I had taken lots of Caltrate and extra D. And I didn't take enough because lots of days I skipped it because I felt nauseous or my heartburn was bad. (I don't drink milk because I'm lactose intolerant, so I need even more, bad me....) So now I'm wondering if I am just low on D or if I have developed osteomalacia.

Rickets for grownups that is. Read the link, and if you are on bedrest or confined during pregnancy or on a special diet for pregnancy, or fertility treatment---you might want to do what I'm going to do and get a blood test for Vit D and calcium levels. My own GP is away on vacation right now, so the substitute Doc gave me a requisition and included several dozen other blood tests. I'm not sure if any of this will show anything but if I have this at least there is a cure, and maybe just maybe, it won't be so painful to get up in the morning.

So what do you all think? Is this really possible? What about all of you? Do you guys get enough D and calcium?

Run run run

This week, I have been running my ass off, and haven't been able to post much consequently.

Julia has had her baby btw, and I am filled with joie de vivre!! She is probably one of the kindest loveliest women I have ever met, and I am so very happy that all went well, and her son is here. Hugs, hugs, and more hugs honey!

I will tell all more about my activities this week coming I promise, truly. In the meantime, a list of what I've been up to:

- we bought a car, after arguing strenuously about it for days. A Buick Enclave actually. Yayyy!

- the boys gave me a lovely necklace with many sparkly teeny diamonds in it for my Big Girl Birthday. Yayyy!

- we bought a new camera, a Sony Cybershot to replace the broken one. Fresh pictures of Julius coming up ASAP!! Yayyy!

- street party at our house, many neighbours chatted and laughed, and yes we started speaking to the next door neighbour again, the one who doesn't like us. She started it. Quite shocking, but pleasant. Weird....

- We are still talking to the architects and engineers about house options. And getting the money to do it. Boo.

- the eye goo thing has stopped on Julius. Yayyy!

- it is possible for me to do laser eye surgery, but not until I am finished with the hormonal shifts of child-rearing and breastfeeding. So my laser eye fantasy isn't possible next year. Boo.

Until later my dears....must run to get the baby!

Big Girl Panty Day!

I am soooo excited to be 40 today!

Mostly because I intend on buying myself a really nice purse, and some great shoes, haha. Not too excited about the wrinkles to come, but what the hell, they can match my stretchmarks.

Seriously, this next year I have vowed to do a couple of things. First off, to get my body back in some sort of shape. Not so much for the look, but for the strength and the bone-building. I'd like to look good, and I could just starve myself to skinny pretty fast, but the flabby thing has always been my problem. NO MORE. Next year, there will be a photo on this blog of a muscle. An actual honest to God big strong muscle. Not necessarily more than one, but at least one located somewhere on my body.

I am also going to get laser eye surgery next spring, which will freak me out totally, (bottle of Ativan anyone?) but a week ago the baby grabbed my glasses and flung them about, and I was blind and helpless until the nanny found them. Totally sucks being a -9.0 near-sighted. Time to change that.

We are in the process of planning the building/renovating our house and although that might be enough, I really think I also want to apply to go back to school. (If I apply now, I could go to the Big University in our city for Sept./09, a year away) Still percolating that one. Good thing: I would be a tax write-off for the house, and instead of working three jobs, & playing cards the rest of the day in the pub like I did back then, I would study occasionally. Bad thing: I would be the old lady in the class. Maybe too old?)

I am also considering jumping in to the fray again and advocating for grieving mothers. There's been some amazing progress recently, but there needs to be more. And the stronger I feel, the more I get done.

Meanwhile, time to shower, get dressed, and put on the big girl pants.

Forty is going to be a kickass year for me.

My son has returned!!!!!!!

I am so so happy right now, because my son Kaz is back in my arms, black eyed, stitched, tanned, taller, thinner, and all in one piece thank the Gods!!!

We picked him up yesterday at the camp drop off, far north of here in the burbs, and yes we were able to avoid that crazy explosion that rocked the city, I guess that's the end of propane stations in Toronto, or hydrogen stations for that matter, and hydrogen cars. Time for electric methinks....

Good news: he had a wonderful time and wants to go back.

Bad news: he had a wonderful time and wants to go back.

Apparently, last year's camp was hell and this one was heaven. His exact words.

I lost the battle on him going to sleepaway camp, and Mr.Cotta won, but at least he is at a good camp this time and not a shitty one, and yes, I am trying to hold my head up high, and make the best of it.

Help!

Anyway, I'm trying to focus on my birthday tomorrow, because lordy lordy I'll be FORTY. I plan on having lunch with a really great old friend, and then shopping. I may still be out of shape, but I need some shoes and my feet have gone back to normal, so like Wilma Flintstone, it's time to charge.

hehe, anyone wanna be my Betty?

This is interfering with my sleep now

You know when you think about something, but you can't seem to resolve it immediately, and then it comes out in your dreams?

Well, for many years now, I have had sleep issues, bad bad sleep issues, and no, not the kind that happen when you drink too much wine, just strange nightmares, where I wake up yelling and flailing, and my poor husband has to figure out why I am pounding his chest and screaming at him at 2 am. These dreams get worse at crisis points in my life, and better during peaceful times, but they don't change much in terms of content. In my dreams, something bad is always happening.

It's sort of based on my real life situation, a life in which the only good things that have ever happened to me are my husband and my children. I have some really good, really true friends (and more since I started blogging) but other than that---not one thing on earth has ever been good. Now, I'm not peaceful and happy with the family all the time, as you guys know. My kids run amok, my husband and I argue, but hell, that's normal, right? So my terror at the possibility of losing that normalcy and returning back to the bad place is always just below the surface.

I have been nightmare free, or at least, free from the nightmares where I wake up screaming ever since Julius came home. It has been heavenly to say the least.

Until last night. Last night, I had a dream that after Julius was born by c-section, that the doctors came to me and said, "He's not done, we have to put him back in you to finish him up." So I agreed and they put him back in my uterus. A few weeks after that---we have an ultrasound, discover he is dead, and the Doctor turns to me and says, "He will be stillborn, you've screwed up again." I start screaming in the dream, and the word STILLBORN starts floating in the air past me, over and over and over again, gigantic letters I can't seem to get away from, following me around.

I woke up in a cold sweat, and checked on the baby; he was still breathing, just sleeping peacefully, happily. I'm still freaked, the dream feels so real that reality feels false.

For years my husband and I had a routine where he would gently wake me if he saw that I was having a nightmare, and it would be just enough that I would "reset" and go back to sleep and have a different dream. But since Julius has been home, I haven't needed it, and now, I do again. I hate that. I don't want to depend on him to save me asleep or awake.

I know some of you may wonder why I would worry about two now elderly adoptive parents and maybe you would think that they simply would not bother to look for me, but I think that in my case, it's more the issues around seeing them again. My adoptive brother for one, who thrived on being abusive and drunk and living off the dole would not exactly be a fun encounter. The confrontations, the endless narcissism to negotiate, the demands for attention, the public scenes, their endless parade of issues to deal with....

I'm finally happy, and I don't want to go back there. I want to sleep at night.

Thanks for listening. Truly.

I can't believe this

I am upset today and I need some help. Recently, my husband was checking his googles, or rather his Cuils, and he discovered that his name was entered on a geneology website.

Without his permission.

And so was my name, and our kids, and his parents, and my birth parents, with all our birthdates and biographical information for all the world to see, no password, no privacy protection, no nothing.

Without our permission.

And the most upsetting part of it, is that it doesn't have my real married name on it, it has my ADOPTIVE name, for fuck's sake, even though I changed it legally well over 10 years ago. And the person who created the website?

My birth mother.

Who constantly does things like this---then is mystified as to why I get upset with her afterwards. She constantly violates boundaries that we have discussed, promises to do better next time, then knowingly does it again in some other way.

Now some of you may wonder what the big deal is, since you have your lives on the web, with your kid's names and photos, but first of all, that is your choice, and your decision. You want to do that for your family, fine, but I would like to make a different choice, and she has taken that decision away from me.

More importantly, I have other concerns about my adoptive name being used on the web. I have never blogged about this, although I have spoken about it with some of you in person. You see, my adoptive parents were very very awful people, who should never have been allowed to adopt any children, but CAS really doesn't do proper checks in this province. They were violent, and still are. They do not know where I live, or that my children exist, or that I ever met and married my husband. In an age of grandparent's right's court cases, and the impossibility of ever getting a conviction against them for the abuse they perpetrated on me---I'd rather live in safe and secure anonymity.

The police, courts, and Children's Aid in this province have a pathetic record of protecting women and children from violence. After the Randall Dooley inquiry, I thought that maybe it might improve, and after all the money that the Liberals put back into violence prevention and victim's services, I really thought the CAS and the cops might get a clue. But no, disaster has struck again, and another child has been killed, as a direct result of CAS incompetence. Two different agencies didn't give a shit about doing their job and a child was murdered.

Based on what I've seen, depending on the system to save you is to stupidest thing a crime victim can do in Ontario. Really, when the auditor general of Ontario and ombudsman both agree that CAS has serious structural issues and needs oversight, yet the system refuses any all reforms, there is only one conclusion I can reach. That protecting the bureaucrat's turf is more important that protecting the citizens of Ontario. Especially the most vulnerable ones.

And as an aside, for those of you who think that women should never change their last names to their husband's name----THIS is the biggest reason why we should have the choice to do it. As long as other women in society do it, I have cover. Using my married name, means that my credit cards and university transcripts could be changed, without having to tell everyone the whole story, and convince them to help me. Instead, they just think I'm like other women, blending in to the crowd, yet protected by Privacy legislation. It really is the perfect cover for anyone who wants to flee an abusive spouse, or parent, or a bad boyfriend. Would it be nice if the system worked and they could be arrested, and I could divorce them as my adoptive parents, and just have no contact at all? Suuuure---it would also be nice if sunshine and puppies came out of my ass, but that's a fat chance too. So I'm doing whatever I have to keep myself and my kids safe, and fuck anyone who thinks that isn't a feminist choice.

To sum up, my adoptive parents might be able to find me, but it would be very very difficult.

Until now, when my birth mother, with full and complete knowledge of the situation, made it easy to find me and figure it out.

Passive aggressive much, Mom? Sigh...

My husband is writing her an email, asking her to take it down, or change it, but she might say no, just to drive me nuts. So if anyone out there reading this, has any ideas on how to get it off the website, technical or tactical or whatever, I'd be grateful.

I need all the help I can get.

Okay, the men are gone, let's party!

First, thank you so so much for all the lovely things that you said about me to my man. I am blushing, really.

So in the end, that went well. My husband thinks that blogging is like an online diary and that I seem to do well at it. He didn't read this entire thing, not enough time to go back and do it all, but what he saw was fine with him. As he put it, "Feel free to complain about me as Mr.Cotta online, if it gets it out and you can commiserate with other women about your husbands and you are happy, that's fine with me." I think he prefers that I do this as opposed to talking in real life with him, sort of like he used to view my pregnancy loss support group. He likes to talk to me, don't get me wrong, but like most men he prefers not to analyze every moment of every emotion we have.

Yes, men are from Mars and women are from Venus. And isn't it fun?

The deal is that he doesn't want to read the blog, and I keep it pseudononymous, and he hopes that I make it clear that I AM NOT A DOCTOR, so none of you think I'm giving real medical advice.

Hahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahaha

Lawyers are so adorable. Honestly, if blogs hadn't taught me about heparin, and how much to get per dose and how to shoot it up without becoming a black and blue pin cushion, Julius wouldn't exist. He would have died! Geez, it's not like my frigging doctors were any help. "Oh, that miscarriage was an aberration, a bad egg, just try again and see what happens!" ---yes, lovely advice from my friendly neighbourhood medical professional.

Like I just have to point out the crazy thing I read last week, about how Doctors were surprised that in large studies the flu shot did not prevent pneumonia. And all I could think was---duh. The flu shot prevents the flu, barely, and the pneumonia vaccine prevents pneumonia. You know, the vaccine that is given once, and gives lifetime protection against 23 strains of streptoccocus and is cheap and so is free in Ontario and is highly recommended for anyone who is elderly or immunocompromised, or has a genetic clotting disorder like mine, or several other medical problems----oh, your Doctor never mentioned it? Maybe because they make so much freaking money off the annual shitty unnecessary flu shot? Or maybe because Big Pharma does not promote it because it's generic and fuck why do anything that impedes profit margins?

No honey, I'm not a Doctor, but that's a good thing I think. Less Koolaid to drink....

Women need to talk to each other. We're not men, we can't just mumble and shuffle our feet and pretend we're fine all the time. I'm not always fine, how about you?

So I am just going to blog the way I always do, and hopefully he won't mind.

Hi honeybear!

Yes, that is my affectionate name for Mr.Cotta, and yes he now knows that this blog exists....oh good lord this could be a rollercoaster.

I had been having a difficult time with my life for a long long time, not knowing what to do with myself, feeling like a failure at a career, (Thank you ADD!) feeling like a failure at school (ADD, how you stalk me!) and feeling like a failure as a woman, since my fucked up body couldn't seem to maintain a pregnancy or an estrogen level. And yes, certainly a failure as a wife and mother, since I was struggling so much with the basics....I'd rather throw dishes away than wash them, for instance. Not a winning strategy....

Then I discovered blogging, and it seemed like such a wonderful thing---a support group that I could hang out in 24/7 and maybe even contribute to in some way.

Thing is, I knew that I would likely fuck it up in some way at some point, because of course that is the pattern of my life. So I never told my very accomplished, brilliant successful husband that I had a blog, because I assumed that it was going to go down in flames instantly. Why start a problem when it could all be over so fast? And the blog did get fucked up. Two years ago, I started this thing, and only a month or so later deleted everything, and abandoned it, then started all over again.

I figured after that I'd last a month, maybe two. But it kept going, and going, and going.

And here I am tonight, having a heartfelt talk with my husband telling him that I have a blog and I never told him because it was such a stupid little thing at first, and then it was bigger, and then it was amazing, and it has really really helped my self-esteem, and mostly I never told him because I figured that he might think that what I wrote wasn't good enough.

And that would crush me if it was so.

Because even when he exasperates me to no end, I still admire his opinion more than anyone else's.

Funny thing is, he is very happy that I have been doing something creative with my time and not just commenting on other blogs. He told me that he is glad that I do have a blog since he views that as pursuing my passion to help other women who have been through pregnancy and loss. But then again, he *might* just think this blogging thing sucks.

Monday morning he will be reading this I guess, or he may just not. We'll see.

Meantime, say Hi to my Honeybear!

Camp sick

In exactly 7 days and 5 minutes I get my son back. Sorry I didn't reply to earlier questions, but I've been spending the last 24 hours in the bathroom, my intestines having been taken over by the bug from hell.

I'm sooooo freakin' sick I think that I brought it on with the stress of my kid being gone. Or maybe even because of all of our attempts to test drive cars....we have to replace the Volvo in a month and so we're on the "Keep an Open Mind Tour."

Which basically means that Mr.C. has become obsessed with only one kind of car, and I like several others and he doesn't want to admit that we have options and can afford to buy a nice one. Cheap is not my only criteria. It seems to be his only criteria. He likes the Honda Pilot. (Which drives like meh, btw.) I like the Volvo XC90 and the Acura MDX, and maybe the Lexus but we haven't checked it out yet.

Sigh....off to run to the bathroom again.

I'll write more about the cars later.

What do you all drive? Do you like it?

After that last post

I think that a little clarification is needed---at this camp, as with all sleepaway camps, no parent is ever allowed to speak to a child, and no child is ever allowed to speak to a parent. Camps are the only institution on the planet that are allowed to do that. For all I know, they could be abusing or beating the children and covering it up. They could be serving them crap for food and no one could stop them, because there are no regulations and no authorities to overlook.

I am also sick of the idiotic argument that there is something good or wonderful or better in terms of personal development if a child lives away from their parents. 95% of children NEVER GO TO CAMP, and they turn out perfectly awesome. In fact, many of them go on to be CEOs and lawyers and Doctors. Do you know who goes to sleepaway summer camp? Rich, white overprivileged kids and occasionally poor kids who are recipients of charity trips. In the past, perhaps middle class kids could afford the fees, but no more. This camp is typical of the price that most in Ontario charge, some are less, some are more.

It cost us $3000 to send Kaz to this fucking camp, for 3 weeks.

Yeah, you read that right.

The one last year was a shorter time period, but a higher rate per week.

There are hundreds of pictures up on their secure website of all the kids. Don't get me wrong, they are all smiling and well-scrubbed and cute. But they are all white. Not one black kid, not one asian, in fact, the only brown faces in the crowd are the white kids who forgot their sunscreen. And it's not that we didn't look for a diverse camp. The problem is that they don't exist. The reality is that in most cultures around the world, people simply don't send their kids to strangers to be raised. Family in an emergency, sure, but not strangers.

The other issue, is that my husband does not understand my stress----and frankly neither does everyone else. I am sitting here terrified my child is in danger, and honestly, I need you all to think about something---one of my kids almost died two months ago, and I have lost three others. I need everyone reading this to let go of their preoccupation with the word "summer camp" and their own personal desire as children to go to summer camp and just think of me as a fellow bereaved mom whose child's life is currently at risk. Can you do that, please?

Because in real life my husband doesn't worry, and neither do my friends who all went to sleepaway camp. In my mind, allowing my son to go to sleepaway camp is huge sacrifice to me. It violates every single childrearing belief I have and every value I hold dear. I did not go through all this infertility and loss just to send my kids far away and not even get to be with them. I did this for my husband, as a gift, so that he would feel like his child got to experience something he did as a child. But he doesn't think of it that way.

He views my sacrifice as nothing, totally irrelevant, and of all the things that have come of this experience, that hurts the most.

his face

I got a call from the camp today. I called and asked if he was okay and if he had ever received the box of candy we sent. I kept wanting to call before this, but after last year, I was reluctant to since the other camp lied to me anyway, and I assumed that this camp would as well. After all, it's not like they have any legal obligation to tell the truth or even give a shit if he is really okay.

Seriously, in Ontario, we have regulations for the people who care for our kids in schools and daycares and just about every other place----but not camps, not even sleepaway camps.

So I should hardly be surprised to find out that today he got into an accident on the trampoline, and his knee connected with his eyebrow. (Don't ask me how, it seems impossible to me as well.) He split open his eyebrow and bled everywhere. He needed two stitches, and the camp doctor put them in.

He is supposedly fine---but how can I be sure if I am not there to see? He could be dying for all I know and they have no obligation to tell me shit. Plus I am unhappy that they stitched him instead of gluing him and now he will have a scar. Long story short---because of all of Mac's mishaps I know the the current best practice is to glue cuts together with a special sterile superglue instead of stitching unless it's on a stress point, like a knee or an elbow.

And Mr.Cotta does not understand why I am upset. He thinks it's no big deal. He actually just went out and left me all alone worried and freaked out.

And he wonders why I hate sleepaway camp so utterly totally and completely? Does he even know me, or understand me at all?

And the joke is that this camp is supposed to be an excellent one, the type that caters to concerned parents who actually like their children, as opposed to the super cold WASP detached parenting camp we sent him to last year.

His face is permanently scarred now. My baby's face will never be the same, and all because of some stupid camp.

Two months in

The other day, we took Julius in for his two month checkup. I've been looking forward to this because I was hoping that my pediatrician would finally treat his goopy eye, instead of just leaving it. She says that he has a blocked tear duct, which I think is utter total crap. I believe that he has some sort of infection and I'm really concerned...but she once again told me that they don't treat babies eyes like this, even when they are oozing pus. And she won't even swab it and test it, even if it's ebola, she won't treat it.

Did you ever begin to think that these Docs are taking their concerns about overuse of antibiotics a bit too far?

In the good news/weird news department he has grown. He has grown a LOT. Julius is now a few ounces shy of 15 pounds. At only 2 months, this makes him 100th percentile for weight, and he is also 95th percentile for height. Solely breastfed, he is my own personal liposuction machine. Really, who needs plastic surgeons when you can do it this way?

The only weird bit is that his head is 50th percentile. I'm glad that he is perfectly average, but this means that he is slightly out of proportion, so of course, Mr.Cotta has been making jokes about him now....calling him the Microcephalic Baby, haha. I tell him that isn't funny, cause there are some babies like that, and we know the fear of something really bad happening, but since he also has that slightly nervous tone in his voice, like he's afraid it's true even though he knows that nothing is wrong, I've left him alone to crack bad jokes and mutter to himself in the corner.

I'm more concerned about the fact that the doc said that his little head is getting flat on the left side, and poking out on the right side. He is a little crooked! It appears I am raising Stewie. Hopefully without the world domination ambitions. We've been assigned homework and now I have to make sure he naps/sits and lies down with his head tilted more to the right side. He was favouring the left for a long time, because when the nanny isn't here he's very heavy for me to hold all the time, and I tend to put him in the carseat or lying on the change pad beside the couch, and lean over to him and speak or change him or whatever. Until my back and my abs get stronger, I can't pick him up as much as I'd like. So we're going to work on moving his head a bit and giving him some tummy time....honestly, if he ends up with a helmet, I'll die a little inside, so I hope this works.

Julius also got his first vaccines, and I'm not sure who was more nervous, me or him. I had him nicely doped up on baby Tempra, but he still screamed blue murder. My concern was that he would react like Kaz, who had 10 days of screaming, high fevers and seizures after each pertussis shot. Twelve years ago the vaccines he got were the whole cell pertussis vaccine and he had an extreme reaction, every time. He got the acellular vaccine at age 18 months, and had only a few days of fever and seizing. (Not exactly comforting but better.) Then at age 5, he had only one day feeling terrible and no seizures that I saw...but still I get nervous at even the thought of shots for him. (And for the record he has never had a reaction to any other vaccines or medications. Just the DPT. The MMR was like nothing to him, no problem at all.)

Mac had almost no reaction to any of his vaccines. And so far Julius has had almost none, just crabbiness for the last 48 hours. Different genes? Different body chemistry? No-one researches this, so there is no way of knowing. They assume that anyone who has a side effect or an issue with a vaccine is an extremist, and the whole thing becomes so polarized that no one can ever have a proper discussion. The research becomes politicized instead of scientific and parents like me are left floundering. Very frustrating. So you might be wondering why I ever gave any of my kids another vaccine after witnessing that? Well, the problem is that Kaz was already having respiratory issues as a young baby, including croup and bronchiolitis, and with asthma, a case of whooping cough could be very bad news for him. So I had to weigh the risks and benefits and I figured that he had to keep breathing, and lack of oxygen from whooping cough might cause as many problems as the side effects from the shot against whooping cough. I don't know, I feel guilty about my decisions on this everytime I have to help him with his school work...to this day, I'm still not totally sure I did the right thing.

Which pretty much defines my entire parenting style; aka "Hoping they survive to age 18 in spite of me."

Next post, I'll update you on the house reno plans. *I have to go rotate my kid's head now.

* Errr, that sounds wrong actually, but you all know what I mean, right?

Learned something new today

I went to a funeral today--the elderly grandmother of a close friend of mine died Saturday, and being Jewish the service was held this morning, as soon as possible.

Being brought up as an Irish Catholic I know a lot about Christian funerals, and just the sight of a hearse makes me think about tables of food and china teapots and cups and the smell of incense. But I don't know very much about Jewish funerals services. In fact, although I've worked for a jewish organization in town, I've never been to a synagogue.

Why does it matter? Well, when you grow up Catholic like I did, you learn that there some unwritten rules of behaviour that must be followed. Like---God would strike me dead if I ever showed up for church without a skirt and pantyhose. Bare legs were a sin, and pants were practically a mark of prostitution. Logically I knew it was crap, but deep in my heart I still feel nervous about it to this day.

So the question is, what to wear? Do Jewish women go through this guilt and stress over what to wear? Did I need a hat? I hear hats are important, but I only have a baseball cap....shit. Did I have to wear black?

Oy

In the end, I wore my black jersey maternity wrap dress, no pantyhose, and black heels. Minimal makeup, no hat. Hoped the jewish god doesn't strike dead the women who show up dressed "wrong".

Turns out it was a reform synagogue and I was one of the best dressed and most formally dressed women there. No Hats! Thanks God! Total relief.....

That dealt with I paid attention to the service and learned a bit of history. It turns out that Ema, as she was known, was truly amazing. She was 94 when she died, but as a young woman she was one of the original Zionists who built a Kibbutz' in Israel. She snuck across the border of British Palestine in the 1930's, and the head of the kibbutz gave her a job right away; she was handed a gun and sent off to guard the orchards against terrorists. All five feet of her plus a gun against the British army, the Arabs, and the heat of the desert....wild. Years later her husband was arrested for being a member of Ergun, (he was actually a member of Hagganah), and held by the British until he died in prison a few years later. A widow with two kids, she moved in the fifties to Canada and worked in the Montreal fur district, sewing piecework to support her family, and put them through school. She spent years working for their benefit only.

And she did it. Her entire family is successful and happy and educated. At the age of 94 she played the mandolin, she loved music and art and food and friends and family. She never wasted a second worrying about past sadness. She lived with joy. I don't know what the Yiddish word is for this, but I would definitely have called her a Great Old Broad.

I learned today that if I have to die someday, I want to die like that, after a long amazing life like that. I don't want to worry about pantyhose and hats and stupid stuff, I just want to be known as a Great Old Broad.

I'm about to turn 40. Can you tell?

Devil Mamas

I stumbled across this post title a few weeks ago, and now I can't stop saying it or thinking it every time I breastfeed in public.


Say it with me everyone!

Devil Titty

Weeeeeee, what a great title. Just rolls off the tongue doesn't? I love it because I, like Maggie Gyllenhaal am also a shameless devil woman, boobing a baby with my door open, my shirt open, my curtains open, hell, in the backseat of the car at the side of the road, in restaurants, malls, and waiting rooms.

A proud feminist milk bursting devil mama, if anyone asks by the way, hehe.

The good thing about having trouble walking and carrying things is that you always have a perfectly good excuse for being unable to slink off to a bathroom with the baby and a blanket and the diaper bag. I have no choice but to sit wherever, shirt open, no blanket over the baby, just doing what has to be done, because anything else hurts too much, and I need help to take care of him.

I've had surprisingly not one person say anything awful to me yet. A few stares, no leers, and a couple of older women smile and say very lovely encouraging things about nursing a baby in public. Pretty neat, eh? A few younger women have looked uncomfortable and looked away, and one asked why I wasn't using bottles in public, but I just said I didn't feel like it and kept going. Reality is that I'd just get let down and be bursting full if I did use a bottle and missed a feed. I'm only going through that for a movie or dinner with my hubby, not just cause some person doesn't want to see me feed the kid.

Speaking of bottles, we have tried Julius on a bottle of pumped breast milk at 6 weeks and he took it although at first he didn't understand where the hell mama was and what this rubber thing was in his mouth. Poor Mr.Cotta had to deal with him crying until he got it. Now I just have to get my frozen stash of pumped milk stocked up and I can go for a physio appointment all alone or a massage without worrying about a starving baby. (I have some, but not a lot, and just in case I ever get sick or can't feed him, it would be a relief to have a freezer full, you know?) For those of you who wondered, I bought BPA free bottles, but not the fancy mega bucks kind. I just got some boring, plain old Playtex bottles with the drop-in liners. A nice box of them, all I will need for my purposes, cheap, just $20. Still plastic, but just fine thanks.

So, me and my two month old babe are off to sleep now.....for a few hours anyway.

Reticent

I have a dozen things to blog about, but I'm not sure I should blog about any of them. I think I'm getting an allergy to controversial IF/pg/loss stuff. Is it just me, or is the only acceptable comment on a blog these days, "((Hugs!))"?

Which makes the internet pretty fucking boring I think....hopefully this cycle will pass.

So Kaz wrote me a letter, saying he was alive at camp, and that he really really wanted me to send him some candy. So we are.

A gigantic box that will likely be confiscated because all the counsellors are freaking about childhood obesity. Even though none of that applies to my kid at all. He is still underweight, maybe fifth percentile. Yet everywhere he goes (school, camps, etc) he gets the lectures about not eating things that make you fat, and we have the worst time EVER finding clothes that fit him. All children's clothing is now marked for vanity sizes, and husky is the only type allowed.

There are overweight kids here and there but most of the ones I see are average or only slightly chubby. I really don't see how banning all treats helps, or lecturing about diets, or banning things. Me, I like the middle ground, letting most kids have one treat a day, and the kids who can handle it get some more. But no lectures......

I went to see my ob/gyn the other day for a good bye visit. We talked about my poorly healing uterus and the whole c-section vs. vaginal birth issue. (Eeeeeek, run away here people) Basically, he hates the never do it approach, and he hates the always do it just in case approach. (This is why I like him, he has sense.) Both delivery methods have risks, and even with a planned c-section you could end up like me, facing an u/s, a possible MRI, months of physio, pain, more pain, and did I mention----pain.

I needed my section, but make no mistake, there is a cost. Oh Lord, I can't function, can't lift a thing, even my big healthy baby. What if you didn't need it, and just scheduled it for convenience, or because you were afraid of a VBAC and ended up like me instead of all those other people who tell you how easy their section was?!?

Note the irony people: for 6 years my arms have ached to hold this child, to rock him to sleep, to carry him in a sling, to hug him, and cuddle him.

My arms were empty, and because of the c-section they still are. Sigh....

If you see Posh Spice anywhere, punch the bitch for me, k?

So sad

Kaz is once again going to sleepover camp, over my very strong objections. He leaves Tuesday, and will spend the next three weeks hanging out with a bunch of rich kids in the woods, who frankly have no idea how privileged they are.

Admittedly this is very different camp than last year. It's not quite so rustic and not a boys only camp, and I've had several discussions with the camp directors about all the medication concerns---but they still don't get it. They think he can get it late in the morning and it won't matter. Sigh....so I am left praying and wringing my hands and hoping my baby will be okay.

Most of all I will miss him terribly. I *hate* sleepaway camps with a passion, because after everything I've been through to have my kids, I do not want to hand them over to be raised by someone else. Day camp is one thing, it's not a long day and I get to see them for the other 10 hours they are awake but for a parent like me, this kind of camp is hell.

I know---kids love it, and I'm sure many of you loved camp yadda yadda yadda. But just because kids want something doesn't make it good for them or a part of their families value system. Should children get everything they want? Hardly....

Mac isn't going away this year, so I still have him. And Julius of course. I guess I just can't picture life without Kaz here. My husband is just fine with him going, happy even.

I guess I have to thank my lucky stars that we didn't rent another cottage this year. After all, there are only so many disasters one person can take per summer right? Right.

Going to go hug my baby now....sniff sniff....

The List

I have slowly been getting back into the swing of things. And making lists of what I need to do bit by bit when I feel up to it.

Like:

- find my favourite shorts in my closet
- start some form of exercise program
- get laser eye surgery for my serious nearsightedness
- renovate the house

Lists lower my stress level. They anchor my free floating anxiety. Instead of a giant cloud of chaos I can't quite grasp, I see a path somewhere. The only thing is the list can't be too long and the first things on it can't be too hard, or I will feel emotionally blocked, and give up on ever ever getting the rest of the list done.

Past lists have included small things like "clean my purse", "take in drycleaning", and bigger things like "apply to grad school", "learn french" or "change the world", etc.

Or "Have live baby".

That was the first thing on my list for many years and it's---------

Done

I feel much lighter right now.

So what do you think I should do next, oh internets? Like not in the next two minutes, or even two months, but going forward? We're settling into a nice routine, so I think I need to contemplate this. Will I stay at home, go back to work, go to school, advocate, lobby, volunteer?

Putter, dabble, dawdle?

Now what? Hmmmmm

Julius is still doing well, very happy but sort of varying on the sleep. He seems to have decided to do his 6 week growth spurt now, at the moment we are hitting 7 weeks. Not only can he not tell which week it is on the calendar but he has to decided to nurse every hour on the hour round the clock.

Never blog about how well your baby sleeps. It will come back to bite you in the ass.

Or the nipple, as the case may be.

But really, the flooded basement does suck alot alot a lot. We had to pull up all the carpet and underlay and throw it in the garbage, after moving the furniture, and sort through many many damp boxes of stuff. And I'm still convinced we are going to find mold somewhere someday. Our insurance company is not very helpful in this regard, sigh....

Good news is that my husband finally decided to give the go ahead and agree to sign with the architect. All it took was one flood. Okay technically the overpriced hideous open house we went to was inspirational as well. Just the thought of getting into a bidding war for some crappy place and still having to reno in the end is pretty much a nightmare of mine and his.

Might as well stay where we are and reno this joint, although in our case staying where we are isn't technically going to work. We will have to move out for a few months while they knock the place down and rebuild. Our design is simple, and we can do it, we just needed to sign the documents.

The hard part---to get permission from the mofos at the city planning department and at the )@;*# OMB, both of whom drive small renovators crazy because they don't understand the issues around narrow city lots and old foundations. Apparently I'm supposed to lose 4 feet off the width of my house and live in a bowling alley. Not the plan my dears!

And my more important mission--to spread the word about the new Ontario Panel on Family Building and Fertility. (Not the right title but I'm writing this at 2 am and can't find the link so fuck it.)

Anyway, I have more to say about it but the long and short of it is that I hope they authorize ALL fertility treatment including drugs and diagnostic tests for women going through RPL. Right now they have a technology report on IVF that only says couples with blocked tubes or male factor needing ICSI who agree to SET should be covered. Sigh....no analysis was ever done on the long term cost to the education or social services system of caring for multiples due to medicated IUI vs. SET IVF.

They also have a serious over emphasis on adoption even with this province's horrific past and present history with it. The Goudge Inquiry legacy of stolen children, the fact that parents regularly return their adopted kids to CAS because they don't feel like raising them, the pathetic refusal of CAS in this province to co-operate with either the auditor general or the ombudsman.....good God, maybe we could clean up the mess in this province first before we throw more children into that fire?

And yeah, I have more....but my miracle baby is crying and I have to go.

I want everyone to get the medical care they need, not just a privileged few with the *right* medical problems....I hope you all agree with me?

And then he smiled at me...

Man in Motion


I'm conducting Mozart, watch me!

Did you know that the greatest invention in the history of mankind is Baby liquid Zantac?

And that I worship the inventors of this magical liquid?

In fact I worship them so much that I would build them a golden calf if they wanted me to. And then dance around it and sacrifice a virgin or three if need be.

I am now convinced that my two other beautiful darling babies, especially Kaz, had serious severe reflux and that is why they had screaming colic and freaked out and never slept and induced a horrible case of post-partum depression in their very tired mommy.

So how did this magical thing-a sleeping, happy baby-happen? Well, we went in for his one month appointment, conveniently scheduled for his 6 week birthday, and instead of saying, "My baby has reflux, can we get something for that?", I ever so cleverly said, "My baby is spitting up a lot, even while breastfeeding, and arching his back and neck like he is in pain all the time. He won't go into the fetal position at all. He seems as stiff as a board all the time." My regular pediatrician immediately whipped out her prescription pad, declared that since he was unlikely to have a developmental issue, since he was fine otherwise, that he had reflux.

"Oh, you mean like I said he had, a few weeks ago."

I get The Embarassed Look.

"I'll just write a prescription for that. We'll start at the highest dose."

"Thanks"

On the way out the door, I alternate between tears of relief and joy. Those passing by must think I'm insane....

For the last 5 days, as his little throat heals, he has slept and slept and slept and eaten and eaten, and smiled at me as he begins to enjoy life again. And I have smiled back as I have begun to enjoy the world as well.

He is now eleven pounds, ten ounces, and has grown another 2 inches. And he slept 7 hours straight last night, without mommy having to resort to baby tylenol at all. Just the magical healing powers of zantac....amazing what can happen when docs listen to patients and moms, hmmm?

I'm so happy right now that I don't even care that the basement flooded again last night, or that Obama has lost my support by flip-flopping on a woman's right to choose, or that Bush said "Yo, Harper" to our PM, and proved that he is an utter moron again, or even that the media got the story wrong about the pregnancy pact (it was a teen support group, formed after the girls got pregnant).....I don't care if the universe implodes, because the baby is sleeping!!!!!!

And I dearhearts have a chance at sanity again.

Waiting

The first six to eight weeks are always the hardest for any new mom, but this time I feel like I am getting my ass kicked, truly. If it wasn't for my nanny, I'd be suicidal; and no I'm not exaggerating. With Kaz I was out hanging out at liberal events and campaign offices when he was only 4 weeks old. We flew to Montreal when he was 5 weeks old. This time, I can barely get off the couch. Going for coffee is a major accomplishment. This is so very very different. And I'm not the only one feeling it. My husband has been morose because he is so very exhausted and until this last weekend he was refusing to take a nap and go to bed early.

I am trying to follow that advice about sleeping when the baby sleeps and it sort of works but it is hard to get used to sleeping during the day and going to bed at 9:00 pm then waking up at 1:00 am etc. Mr.Cotta finally decided to take a nap on Monday and had a lovely personality transplant as a result. Good thing IMO. If he yelled at one more person in the house over something stupid and inconsequential there would have been a case of shaken husband syndrome happening.

The latest development is that Julius seems to be sensitive to my wine consumption. As in, if I have more than a mouthful of wine he screams in agony for the rest of the night. And although my kids have had direct allergies to things, we've never had this happen. I always thought it was crap....I guess not, eh?

So no more wine for me for a while...wahhhh I'll have to make up for it in chocolate consumption I assume.

Good news--I have finally started to fit back into my maternity clothes and even a few regular very very large items. Mostly because my hip joints et al are settling back to normal. Like as in my fingers are normal size, no swelling, no fat, but my joints are still large. Well, they are getting smaller! Soon I will be able to wear my wedding ring!! I haven't worn that since the early winter.

Oh and after the news about Obama and his introduction of the Stillbirth Act, (which is stunning because no politician ever ever gives a shit about dead babies or their grieving mamas), I'm a convert. I still don't think he'll win....too many forces arrayed against him, but I have to be supportive of anyone who does something so incredible.

So I need a badge for my blog for this new group I'm starting, "Dead Baby Mamas for Obama."

Catchy hmmm?

Anyone artsy want to help me? I can't draw worth a damn... Any dead baby mamas want to join?

Seriously, I want to do this. And if anyone knows why Obama is doing this, like what his connection is to the issue, I'd love to know! In all the years I have begged politicians in Canada to do something they never have. Not once. So why did he? Why now?

Edited to add, this link to First Candle has the link to the text of what was introduced in the Senate or those interested.

Throat clearing

That is what my baby does all night and all day, clears his throat and grunts. Odd child...

I think he has thrush and I have yeast and that is what the remnants of pain are when I breastfeed. So now I have to use Canesten which is easy, along with the triple nipple cream cooler doula mentioned in my comments a wee while back.

Hard part is the purple colored gentian violet for his tongue and mouth, which looks horrible and makes my nipples look like headlights, which I hate, hate hate. And then awful women come up to me and say stupid things like, "You know, you aren't supposed to feed your baby candy!"

That's right lady, candy and cigarettes, breakfast of champions for infants at my house.

On the bright side he has been sleeping five straight hours in a row every night since I last posted that I was in hell.

Let me guess, he is trying to lull me into a false sense of sanity---Sneaky little bugger, eh?

Ab update

Well my OB had an answer as to why I'm in pain. After we hugged hello I once again thanked him for saving my life and he once again acted like it was nothing, very aw shucks. Then he examined me.

I have an abdominus recti? After 6 pregnancies that lasted longer than 10 weeks, my abs have decided to separate and maybe get a divorce. They don't like everything I've been through and are protesting heavily.

Apparently when you get a crash c-section on top of separated abs it hurts like a mofo when healing.

And if you keep lifting things and not resting like me...it gets worse. I may have strained them more. So now I am not allowed to lift anything and I have to rest for another 4 weeks and then I go to physio. If that doesn't work I'll need surgery to fix it but since I'd rather die than get cut open again I'm hoping exercise and physio work. Any hopeful stories or assvice greatly welcomed? Anything I should or should not do?

Still tired but it's getting better. I'm letting boo sleep in the carseat which doesn't help the reflux but seems to make him happy, so why not?

Also I broke out the baby tylenol at 1:00 am last night for him and some pinot grigio for me. It was either make him sleep that way or run screaming into the street. I mean, it's not like the stuff is heroin right? And hey he slept for 5 wonderful painfree hours!!!!! And so did I.

Still a bit nutty, but I may see my shrink and work on that. Or I may just take some more naps....and give him some more tylenol the next time he mixes up day and night.

Yawn

P.S. Am worried about Antigone at http://antigonelost.blogspot.com . I keep checking her blog hoping she is okay and hoping her husband hasn't hurt her or the baby. If any of you hear from her by email let the rest of us know, K?

Broken Me

I'm at the end of my rope.

Julius will not stop screaming all night and of course looking angelic during the day, so my pediatrician thinks there is nothing wrong with him and won't give me medication for his reflux.

She says he might just have a floppy uvula and we should just wait and see. But I can't bear to wait. I am too tired and this is getting depressing.

She thinks I am getting PPD and she may be right. My husband is not exactly helpful, he thinks that if I just get through the next few weeks I'll be fine just like last time. (I was not fine last time I just didn't talk with him about it after awhile.) He is sympathetic but he thinks its one of those things where I just need to buck up or go for a walk or pull myself up by my bootstraps or something.

I am seeing my ob tomorrow about the pain in my abdomen. I am trying to eat and sleep and have a shower and keep myself together everyday, but it's very very hard.

I am a failure.

I worked so hard for this, I wanted it so badly and now I'm not even enjoying my baby.

I know that some of you without a baby at all are looking at this post and wanting to slap me for being ungrateful, but this is not what I planned and trust me you don't want to feel this way. I am grateful he exists, I just thought I would be a better mother when I got it.

I thought I had bootstraps. I guess I don't.

Some of you do. You go back to work. You have csections and can walk and you seem to be okay. Some of you do it all and blog about it, and I can barely get off the couch without a fulltime nanny. I don't understand. How do you do it?

I feel like shit.

Super Baby

I wanted you all to know that I'm alive....

I'm still utterly exhausted and making less sense than ever before, poor Lisa B came by my house for a visit and I think that I made absolutely no sense at all, blathering on about ummm, damn I can't even remember what?

Some strange person, maybe my husband suggested we let the boys stay home and hang out for a few weeks before we decide what we were going to do for summer camp. And the previous week they had spent at school doing not very much except having parties and performing at their end of school concert so they are now bored. And since I had to attend all of these events, I'm exhausted.

Bored children + tired mother equals kids who bicker endlessly about absolutely nothing while mother pulls hair out.

Plus it's all been very emotional here, what with Kaz going to his welcome day at his new school, and trying on uniforms, and although I know that he is still my baby, and he isn't going anywhere really-----I'm having a heart attack here people!!!!!

My baby is going to high school. This is NOT good. Next thing you know he'll be wanting to pick out his own clothes, and feed himself, and then----move out and leave me forever!!!! Some horrible woman will take him away and marry him I'll bet. Grrrrrrrrr....

As we speak he is holding onto baby Julius and playing "Super Baby" basically where Julius gets held horizontally face down, and zoomed around the house. His secret identity is maintained by a soother, sort of like Clark Kent's was maintained by those glasses. I'm laughing and crying simultaneously.

Yes, I am hOrMoNal.

Why do you ask?

baby breaths

Julius is breathing funny, like wheezing, when we lie him flat and he seems to be very unhappy about it, and I am very paranoid about it of course.

So off to the pediatrician I go, ever so stupidly on the same day as last week and I get the same idiot replacement temp ped, instead of the good pediatrician we usually get. Our main one, is very nice and knows that I am pretty medically minded and don't just walk in over nothing, and don't show up asking for antibiotics on the first day of a cold. But this replacement one? A total goof, she regularly offends me by refusing to refill Kaz's ADD medication script. She keeps asking if he really needs it and if we should try something else like maybe we should stop giving him coca-cola....because of course, bad parenting is the cause of ADD in her small mind. *eyeroll*

And so she listened to Julius' chest and dismissed my concerns and refused to give us anything, like puffers, or cold medication, or even check him for reflux. She thinks he has a stuffy nose, except that he doesn't. At all.

She says it could not be reflux, even though he had loads of tubes shoved down his throat when he was being resuscitated, so that awful sound in his bronchial tubes could be milk coming back up and getting stuck in his throat, choking him.

Hell, it could be lots of things...but to her, why check it out, why even help, when she can talk down to me instead? New moms are all stupid idiots right? Even ones who have much older kids and can diagnose a cold vs. croup vs. bronchiolitis is no time flat.

So from now I have to see my regular ped only which is going to be a problem because over the summer, you guessed it, she takes extensive VACATIONS.

Someday when I am in charge of the universe, things will be different.....

Sleepless in babyworld

Nursing a screaming gassy baby 24/7 round the clock is not the fun part of motherhood.

And then when your basement floods three days in a row and you and your husband have to mop and bale out the place continuously that sucks.

Then you run out of diapers and wipes and food and your husband has to work all day so he can't rest and your older kids keep waking you up and you really know life sucks.

But when some jerk decides to stick a nail in your husbands car tire and he has to spend all of Father's Day and most of the next getting the car fixed instead of relaxing and enjoying his day?

That's just craptastically crappy.

slammed-one handed typing

i no longer can type with two hands mostly because i am nursing or holding a baby or burping one....plus life has become nutty on top of that.

nicole at just crazy enough to try had her baby, a little girl! yayyyyyy Her blog feed did not send the news to my bloglines so i didn't know for a few days. go say congrats.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

my bil P has returned to europe secretly after we advised him not to just yet. he has no support network or doctors or family over there and as we predicted things are going very very badly. he can't see his kids until he is stable and since he is acting well---manic? psychotic? he will likely not see them for awhile except from a distance mandated by a court. his emails and phone calls to them are sometimes normal and sometimes terrifying.

we think he missed his meds as soon as he left the hospital and got confused and started self-medicating again. worst part is that the whole family is fighting over him and whether or not he's okay. some people think he's sane but 'misunderstood', others think he is batshit crazy. all i know is that he is writing some unreal stuff in his emails about our family and anyone else who thinks he is still unwell. apparently we are the crazy ones, and have committed numerous criminal and immoral acts while engaged in a vast conspiracy against him. he seems to cast himself as the white knight in all these tales, rescuing me and my poor children among others from my evil husband.

paranoid and out of touch with reality perhaps?

sigh...we keep wondering if we'll get a call that he has been found dead somewhere. it all makes me want to cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As for immediate concerns, I am overwhelmed with dirty diapers, and breastfeeding and we are about to start the three week growth spurt. Lilypadz rock for protecting blistered nipples from irritation. frozen lilypadz are like heaven on these poor injured bodyparts. just remember to wash the padz with soap and water in between uses or you'll get bacteria growing and you will hurt and the baby will get indigestion and gas.

julius is healthy and cute, i wish i could show you more photos but our camera seems to have broken and i need to get my hubby to take it in for repair. if my cameraphone can do it i'll post something from that. he does have some goopy stuff coming out of his left eye and i think he has a blocked tear duct but otherwise he is alright.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

nanny is a godsend. she is happily willing to do housekeeping and mow the lawn and deal with laundry but the cultural differences are wild. she just came over from the phillipines in the last month or so and explaining things like the toronto green bin have resulted in some funny moments. we keep our green bin (organic waste) in the basement because of racoons. our dry garbage and recycling go outside. well, we showed her everything but i guess she thought her new employers were very odd people for putting our garbage in our basement and she kept trying to take it outside for us. i found it hidden in the bottom of the garbage bins later. when we finally explained it to her with pictures from the website and some translation---she was very embarassed and we all had a good laugh.

also i keep trying to make her take a lunch break but she refuses. i figure she deserves one and keep encouraging her to leave and get a coffee once a day or go for a walk or at least eat lunch upstairs with us but she never does. i think she eats in the basement actually. I'm thinking that i may have to force her to take breaks upstairs because i'm still a mess and the boys are done school so with three kids and a weak lady to take care of she will have her hands full and if she gets overworked we're sunk, you know?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

actually i am feeling a bit more energy every day. i went for a walk around the block today with the baby in the stroller. took me an hour to prepare to go, but i did go!

the boys are very funny with the baby. Kaz is very very responsible and is like a little adult with the baby. he's able to carry him and rock him and knows how to support his head. it's a little surreal actually. mac on the other hand is still poking the baby and trying to pet him like a dog. he doesn't quite get how to be gentle. We're working on it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

there is nothing on tv and nothing left on my dvr. thank god for the internet and my ipod or my brain would turn to mush while i breastfeed at 3 am. i'm about to break into my box set of buffy videos and watch them until my eyeballs fall out.

oh and i bought a medela swing breastpump and used it to start pumping once a day. i want to build up a frozen stock just in case i ever need it. that thing is amazing btw. much better and much gentler than my old crappy one. another reason to buy new instead of using my 13 year old junk.

ok ttyl dudes....tired.

Babymoon

I've forgotten many lovely words related to babies, and Lala just reminded me of that one.

So if I visit your blogs less or write less often, it's because I'm on a babymoon. I'm not leaving the blogosphere by any means nor am I going anywhere really. But I am SO in love with this baby I want to swoon every day. And the Boys are totally in love with him too....although Mac seems to treat him like a doll, not a baby. If he pokes him one more time....I swear I'll lose it!

In case those of you in the trenches are wondering, I feel a need to say it out loud, every single heparin shot was worth it.

Every progesterone suppository was worth it.

Every painful moment of heartburn, nausea and vomiting was worth it. All of it. Even when I almost choked.

Every dildocam, every moment of indignity, every blood draw was worth it.

And no I should not have had to go through that to get a live baby. None of us should---but fate doesn't work that way and life sucks so here I am.

I will admit that I am having a hard time wrapping my head around his birth and the emergency c-section. Yesterday was his due date and I had a weird time thinking about what should have been and what if and why...etc etc. I can't help it, whole thing is crazy-making when you have giant blanks and you the patient missed everything.

Like the other day I turned to my husband and asked him when he thought we should arrange the baptism. And he told me that he had already done it in the NICU. Now he baptized all of our other children, even the dead ones, but he had always done it in front of me. And then we had a formal ceremony in a church later and a party with friends and family.

But without me? I know he was under stress and terrified that Julius wouldn't make it, but I wish so much that I had been there instead of being spread eagled in an OR getting sewn up. And days later he had forgotten to tell me until I asked! Now I'm wondering what else I missed....

Plus the skin over my incision is totally numb, so numb that I'm worried a bunch of nerves were severed. And there is a ridge of tissue underneath that is hard as a rock and I'm worried it will be like that forever.

Anyone who has had a previous c-section want to weigh in? I know it's early for me yet, but how long does it take to get that feeling on your skin back? Did it screw up your sex lives? (Feel free to be anon for that part) I'm afraid to google any of this so that tells you how nervous I am.

Help!

Vampira is back

Not having seen me lately, many of you are unaware of how pale I am right now.

Whiter than humanly possible is how I look lately and when my hemoglobin was 54 the day after the c-section I looked like a corpse. Add in the pitting edema that swelled my entire body and especially my legs to double their size, and it truly was my finest moment. Pale, puffy, mentally impaired, weak, breathless, bedridden, yep definitely hot momma dating material.

Anyway, some good news today! My hemoglobin is up to 106 and since normal is 120+ I'm doing really well. I'm still taking iron pills and will continue to until I am solidly full of rich red blood and not the crappy light colored cherry juice I am now.

Other good news? The swelling in my feet is remarkably reduced, almost gone. I can see veins in my feet and the vague outlines of bones! Weeeeee. I almost fit my old shoes!!!

And today I walked all the way to the pediatrician's office and back. (Just a quick check of Julius' bellybutton healing-it's all good.) The office is a 5 minute walk from my house. It took half an hour each way, I needed our nanny to push the stroller and I needed a rest afterwards.

But I did it!!!!!

I am so proud of myself.

I'm alive albeit stoned

I'm okay and the baby isn't sick after all. The sneezing just seems to come and go occasionally. No rhyme or reason. So mucous it is.

I think he was up crying a lot because his umbilical cord was coming off after getting caught on some clothing and it was a bit painful. They had cut it slightly longer when he went to the NICU in case he needed an IV there but they didn't---and when it dried up it was kind of big and sharp edged. My other kids never had this issue! More confusion.

It's off now and healing. I think he'll have an outie when all is said and done, but who knows?

Meantime, I'm tired and the pain is still everywhere. I went to see my GP and she sent me for an x-ray and some more bloodwork. She also upped my iron dosage, gave me more painkillers, and explained that with an emergency c-section they cut and repair everything the same way as a planned (at least mine was) but the speed means that there is a lot more bruising and tissue damage.

So I will logically take longer to heal. My incision looks good but my stomach muscles will never be the same I think. The top seems to hang over a bit where the scar is. Kind of disconcerting to look at myself in the mirror, you know? I don't look pregnant or fat, more like--half-inflated half-deflated? Weird...I wonder if it will stay that way forever? Anyone else have this happen?

The oxycodone makes me dopey so I got tylenol 3's and naproxen instead. Much better for my brain although slightly more painful.

And my new nanny is awesome. I swear I could not make it through this without her. These days most women don't live right beside their moms or their moms have jobs and can't help out. And husbands? Well, mine is great with diapers etc. but he has to go back to work during the day and we have two other kids to get to school and activities. In my case, I have no mom and only two hands. So having some help around the house is a godsend. A true miracle that every postpartum woman should get to experience. Hmmm- sounds like a great social program benefit for women. Maybe some political party should suggest it?

Oh, and Mr. Cotta put a birth notice in the paper that is hilarious. Leave an email or comment if you want to read it and I'll send it out to you. That man makes me laugh so hard....

I have lots more to post but I'm kind of fried and need a nap. One last thought....the baby's blog name is going to be Julius, inspired by the description on my sidebar.

Ironically it took me days to clue in to the name. Does pregnancy brain leave fast or slow? Sigh.....

sick

The baby is sneezing, which might just be him clearing his lungs of mucous. Or not.

And an hour ago he threw up everything he nursed, and looked very out of sorts. He's slept all day.

I'm going to take him into the doctor tomorrow, but I really have this desire to run to an ER right now.

I'm sure he's fine....I fed him again, cleaned him up and swaddled him and rocked him to sleep.

I just wish I knew for sure that he was okay ahead of time, so I could relax and sleep now.

Gahhhhhhh

trying to find some equilibrium

Slowly but surely life is getting a bit clearer. The fog is still there, but it's going to lift someday, right? I haven't been on my laptop in days.....feels like forever.

Nursing this baby on still feels like an exercise in nipple meets staple remover, mostly because his latch is still developing, and between the nipple cream and the shield some healing is happening. Good news---all the bleeding has stopped! Awesome! I'm trying not to consider the possibility that I don't have enough blood left in my circulation to spare and this is one way that my body is conserving red blood cells.

Anyway, I am now trying to choke down iron pills and vitamin C and Mr.Cotta is madly cooking red meats of every kind. I may switch from these pills to liquid Fer-in-Sol because I can break it up into smaller doses throughout the day with meals and juice and alternate with some fiber. I plan on asking my GP next week for a series of blood tests that I can get done every couple of weeks until I am topped up and completely perky and ruddy. The pain in my side has come back, and I think I can now safely get an x-ray done to see if anything is broken or if I just have muscle strain.

I am also very very very happy that I got that bikini wax, because the c-section incision area used to be hairier and taking out those staples and the tape would've been well, an extra bit of pain I did not need. Now if only I had remembered to get a back wax to ensure the epidural tape didn't hurt so much. (Also, arm wax to make sure the IV removal hurt less.) Oh well, at least you can all learn from me, right? Trust me.....ouch)

Regardless, you all need to know that I have the most brilliant child ON EARTH. Today he was sitting in his Fisher Price bouncy chair getting a little vibration and listening to some tunes, and his eyes focused on the hanging monkey and parrot, and then he touched them. Repeatedly, not even randomly. He isn't supposed to be able to do that for weeks.

Which means that he is obviously a genius, and we're applying for early entry to Harvard next week. Today, at one week of age----he is intelligent, captivating, handsome, and yes, a master champion at filling a diaper with great big poops.

There has to be a scholarship for that, right?