Four Months Old

My little baby boy is already four months old and growing ever so fast. I am trying to savor each moment of his sweet baby-self but the days keep on speeding by.

We go to the Dr. next week to find out his stats and get his next shots (NOT looking forward to that) I think it will be fun to see how much he weighs since he is now wearing mostly six month clothes. He definitely has more chub than Mikayla had.

The first five words that come to mind when thinking about Nolan... Happy, Readable, Sleeper, Mama's boy, Eater :)

Nolan is now nursing about 5 times a day, WAS sleeping from 6:30pm to 7:30am, but since a cold has thrown him off he has been waking up at 5:45 to eat... it's ok, still amazing to me! He is not the best long napper but he does take multiple one hour naps a day and is usually so happy it doesn't matter. He is pretty flexible and that is probably because I am more relaxed this time. :)

Nolan LOVES his hands and putting them in his mouth. He also loves to watch his sister in whatever she is doing. She is able to make him crack up in a way we can't and it warms my heart. He will also burst into tired uncontrollable giggles which have been inherited from yours truly.

Nolan continues to be a joy and I blessed with such a happy easy going baby!

The Call

It was the hardest call I've had to make... it meant admitting to myself that these feelings... or whatever they are... weren't going to pass on their own. It took me two weeks to do, but I finally did it. I called the Doctor.

After discussions with my GP, she agreed to let me try to improve without the help of medication. I am definitely not against medication when it comes to depression, but since I seem to have a moderate case of PPD I wanted to try another route for the time being.

And so I am going to meet with a counselor, exercise, improve my diet, and possibly supplement with vitamins and fish oil. All of these steps look relatively easy for me to do today... a good day. But I have no clue how I will feel about it tomorrow.

Here is how best to describe one of my tough days...

Trapped in a well of darkness, clinging to the ladder that will bring me to the clear surface, the numb feeling of sadness threatening to overcome me. I clutch the ladder and try to focus to just take one small step up... or at least to hold onto the ladder and not let myself be enveloped by the darkness below. I am fighting it...

The hardest part... not blaming myself for these feelings. And so I cling to the one who Created me.

And I'll praise You in this storm
And I will lift my hands
For you are who You are
No matter where I am
And every tear I've cried
You hold in Your hand
You never left my side
And though my  heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
- Casting Crowns Praise You in This Storm

Coming Clean

I write my blog in the way I try to live life... honestly and void of illusion. I find that in writing many of my posts I tend to start with a dilemma and end with a solution. I guess you could say writing is a way I sometimes clarify the jumble of thoughts that run through my head. And I share this on my blog as a way to possibly help and identify with others.

Honesty in my life could be seen as over-share... I remember taking a personality test in college and one of my traits was "you put all of your cards on the table." Such truth at the time! I wore my heart on my sleeve and would share the depths of my soul to those friends who would listen. I remember feeling exhausted and vulnerable when those conversations were through. In those times I envied my sister who went through life as a mysterious creature only divulging so much of herself as was necessary. I on the other hand would share and get burned more times than naught. Thus I learned... I don't think it was a bad thing, though I became a bit jaded. I tried to keep things a little closer all the while still remaining true to myself.

And so I share this with a guarded heart, but also with the honesty of someone who is trying to deal with reality of what is and maybe find some solace in opening up.

I am dealing with the waves of postpartum depression. What I thought were baby blues turned into something deeper, darker and the thoughts of just getting over it turned into thoughts of will I ever get back to who I once was...

It is a tough road to be on... the inability to control my feelings can be crippling.

I feel as though there is such a stigma when the word "depression" is uttered. Add postpartum to it and one may immediately jump to the conclusion that oneself or one's child may be harmed... but that is just one form. As many people are different, that is the way that one can be effected by this.

And so I've decided to share some of the journey of my ups and downs on my blog and maybe... just maybe... gather some clarity through it.

I began these pages for myself, in order to think out my own particular pattern of living, my own individual balance of life, work and human relationships. And since I think best with a pencil in my hand, I started naturally to write. I had the feeling, when the thoughts first clarified on paper, that my experience was very different from other people's. (Are we all under this illusion?) My situation had, in certain ways, more freedom than that of most people, and in certain other ways, much less.
- Anne Morrow Lindbergh Gift from the Sea

One Moment

We were actually ahead of schedule this morning and I couldn't believe it!

My mind never stops nowadays... I guess that is what it is with being a mother. Oh I do miss those moments... many moons ago... where I would stare at my computer during a slow day at work for a good half hour and my brain would just go...

bllllllllllllllllllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

A picture from my "blah" days

I'd then catch myself not believing the amount of time that went by in blahville and start to think again.

But today my brain goes more like...

What time did Nolan eat did he do a big burp wait did Mikayla have breakfast why didn't Nolan poop yet oh my I have ten minutes to get myself ready wait first let me throw a load in the wash oh dear the dog has to go out didn't Mikayla just wear this shirt where is Nolan's pacifier oh no we have nothing in the house to make for dinner I guess I will have to go to the store but then I will have to take everyone out and I guess I won't use the cart maybe just try the stroller but it has to be at 11:30 because then I will have exactly 30 minutes to make it back home to feed Nolan before he starts to scream and to make sure I get Mikayla down for her nap before we lose that window oh no now I only have 3 minutes to get myself dressed before heading out the door....

You get the idea.

Back to this morning. While my mind was going a thousand miles a minutes, I was excited and happy to be ahead of schedule. I used to be the one who was always early and so I felt almost giddy with delight. I picked Nolan up to put him in his car seat and BOOM... spit up explosion all over my shirt. So goodbye shirt... must find new outfit... now we were roaming into "on time" instead of ahead.

I put Nolan into his car seat, bundled Mikayla up... BOOM... another spit up explosion. Off went my brain... now if I change him it will take me five minutes before I get him back in his seat and when I put him back in he will probably spit up again and then I will have to change him again but if I leave him he isn't that wet I guess I could do that... I started to get a headache going through all of the scenarios while I ran upstairs to grab a burp cloth... running back downstairs my brain was now proceeding to think up ridiculous scenarios such as... ok but if I do leave him a little wet maybe he will get cold and then he could get sick and then he would stop sleeping and then I wouldn't sleep and I couldn't function and then... BOOM my brain stopped.

There was my precious Mikayla rocking Nolan's car seat gently back and forth, a huge smile on her face, singing the song I sing to her every night. Nolan was looking up at her cooing and smiling. This moment made time stop and made the rantings of my crazy brain seem extremely trivial.

I gave them both a kiss and we headed into the van... semi wet shirt and all.

It Takes Time

Moving is hard... however I had no clue to how hard it would be this time.

Long Island Sound

The last time I moved my life was complicated at best. I was dropped off for my freshman year of college in Indiana having lived in Ohio for fourteen years. Leaving all my sister and I had ever really known, my parents moved to Connecticut literally the next day. The first time I saw my new home in the east coast was Thanksgiving that year. That first summer was tough since I didn't know anyone, but it was filled with work, a month of theatre camp in upstate New York, and the knowledge that I was going back to school.

I didn't make Connecticut my true home until I graduated College in the spring of 2004. My parents picked me up with a large van and moved me and my life permanently to a culture much different than the midwest. I don't think the biggest thing I was dealing with was the move... it was the fact that College life was over and I had to figure out what was next. Saying it was tough would be an understatement... but I made it through that first year and came out on the other side with a handful of good friends, a new church, ministry in a worship band, a great job and a boyfriend who eventually became my husband.

The bench where Dhrumil and I first time hung out 

I had moments of feeling truly lonely in those first few months after College. I remember wanting to put a huge sign on myself saying "PLEASE BE MY FRIEND." It was also incredibly difficult getting used to all things Connecticut... every other car a Mercedes, houses that cost millions, insane traffic, gross Walmarts, rude people, having to always be politcally correct, small churches and a fast pace that mirrored New York City. I remember one moment very clearly... I was at a four way stop sign and no one was letting me go and I just started to sob... I hated the area and I just wanted to go back home... though  I didn't really know where home was anymore.

Eventually I got used to it all. The area had a mold and I started to bend my way into it by the end. I guess you could say that was good and bad. I accepted it for what it was, even grew to love parts of it; after twelve years Connecticut had become my home. I had a core group of friends, a job I loved, I knew all the back roads, didn't think twice about planning my day around traffic and took for granted the good takeout.

And so leaving it was harder than I ever would have thought.

Dhrumil and I wanted to go... we wanted to get away from what could be a dark and stagnant place. We were ready for something new. We wanted to be able to own a home, make it possible for me to stay at home, take a breath away from the overwhelming materialism, try something else.

It has been six months now. This culture is just as tough to get used to as Connecticut had been. It is hard to believe, since Ohio was so similar, but I am a different person now.

We have the house and it is lovely... but checking off one of my "to dos" for life hasn't resonated the way I thought it would.  There is no traffic, we live by gorgeous farms, the Amish drive by our house and I am reminded to take things slower. There is a church on every corner, no one shies away from talking about church as religion seems to be ingrained into the culture here.  Generations of families have grown up and stayed. The relentless drive of moving ahead doesn't seem to be nearly as prevalent and simplicity trumps the innate sense of self. Of course this is what I see... ask me in another year and I may have a different perspective.

And so those who know my struggle of getting used to this new place keep telling me... it takes time.

"But how much time!?" I want to yell back. "I just want to feel like I belong to a place again... is that too much to ask?" Friendships, like all relationships, take work. I am tired... I am so so tired.

One of the many churches I drive by on a daily basis always posts interesting and sometimes quirky sayings on its outside board. The past few days it has had the same message, but not until today did it truly speak to me.

"Puzzled? Give God the pieces"

That is what I keep missing! I am not alone... He is with me. He is my ultimate friend! He has placed our family here and I am sure in time we will grow to appreciate and maybe even love this area and the people in it.

And so as much as I want to give up and stop trying at times... I am going to try to give God the pieces and trust that He has a plan.

I am also super excited that I will live by many of my dear friends I have met over the years again in Heaven! But until then... bring it on Pennsylvania!

Smile Pants

At three months old Nolan is the happiest baby. Seriously... this kid is so happy and easy right now I am just riding the wave and loving it!

Smiles from Nolan:
- When he wakes up (I always find him in his crib just cooing and I look down and he gives me a HUGE smile)
- When he is about to eat (he knows it's coming and usually giggles)
- When he is in the middle of eating (he will take a break and smile)
- When he is listening to his sister
- When he is watching me
- When he is getting his diaper changed
- When I am trying to put him down for a nap (just today he kept laughing at me as I tried to give him his pacifier)
- When he is looking at his toys
- When he is just sitting on his chair
- When anyone smiles at him
- When he takes a bath

I know something is up when I smile at Nolan and he does not smile back... so basically he is unhappy when:
- He is overtired
- He is starving
- He has been sitting in a poop too long

We are truly blessed to have such a happy boy in our lives!

First picture with them both smiling

All About Nolan

Finally... a post all about Nolan! I have been meaning to write this every week since he has been born... I'm sorry Nolan! It is incredible the change in him already...

One Week Old

Two Weeks Old

Three Weeks Old

Four Weeks Old

Six Weeks Old (AH I didn't have any pictures during 5 weeks)

Seven Weeks Old

Two months old

Nolan is such a joy and our little family is filled to the brim with love for him. The first month was the most challenging mainly because trying to figure out how to balance two kids takes time. Nolan was  a happy baby all day, but every night at 6pm he would start screaming and not stop for close to three hours. This was very challenging, especially for two very sleep deprived parents who hardly had a moment to speak... but we made it through that thank God!

Nolan ate like a champ from the very beginning and by his five day visit to the Dr he had passed his birth weight! At two months he was 13 pounds 1 ounce and he is still eating every 2 - 3 hours a day. We are finally getting to closer to three hours increments though which is a nice. 

Now at 11 weeks old Nolan is a happy camper. He is waking up about once a night to eat, he has been taking a two hour nap in the afternoons, he coos and smiles and only cries when he is hungry, tired or has a dirty diaper. Actually I shouldn't say cry... it's more like a yell. He is happy to just sit in his bouncy chair and watch his sister play, he HATES his gym but enjoys the swing. Whenever we are at church he always wakes up when there is music and I had a sweet moment where I was singing while holding him and he started to make noises that sounded like singing. Possibly a musician in the making?! He loves baths just like Mikayla did (and still does) and he also does well in his car seat. I say all this now to watch it change by tomorrow... but so is the life of a baby!

It is interesting to note the differences I see in him compared to Mikayla. He seems so much more chill... but maybe that is just because I am so much more relaxed. I also find that I can read him so much better than I could Mikayla. Maybe the complexity of girls starts as an infant? ;-) I love having a little boy and am drinking in every moment I have with his sweet baby self.