Dear Reflux, I Hate You

The pediatrician is 99% sure that Lily has silent reflux. For anyone not familiar with it, that basically means that she has acid reflux, but never throws up. Most of the time babies just cry from the burning (think: heartburn multiplied by 100) but she coughs. And coughs and coughs and coughs.

Nathan had reflux. He threw up all the time. But, since he wasn't losing any weight, the doctor didn't treat it. That little tub of lard was well over 20 pounds when he hit 6 months. (Looking back, I probably should have fought him on that, but I was young and had no idea.)

Nathan threw up on everything until he was about a year old. He was what they now call a "Happy Spitter." There was no pain or discomfort for him at all. When he suddenly grew out of it, I prayed that I would never have to deal with that again.

Be careful what you wish for, Amanda.

Lily never throws up. In fact, she so rarely spits up that when she does we are usually caught without a burp cloth or a bib to clean her up. It just never happens.

But she coughs so hard sometimes that her face turns white and her cheeks get splotchy. She cries when she coughs because her little throat is so raw. She has not choked in her sleep yet, but I'm afraid it's only a matter of time.

The doctor says to let her sleep upright, but all that does is piss her off.

We've only recently determined it's reflux. She's been coughing for over 3 months now. After countless trips to the doctors and trying everything from Albuterol to Amoxicillan, we finally put our foot (feet?) down. Roy took her to the doctor (I was stuck at work) with a list of things we were worried about. RSV, Valley Fever and Whooping Cough topped the list.

The good news? The pediatrician sent her for an x-ray last week which came back clear as a bell. I was very happy to hear that seeing as how she would have already infected her entire daycare and the children of all of our friends not to mention my elderly grandmother.

The bad news? We're running out of ideas. The pediatrician never even mentioned reflux until we brought it up. Apparently, in their world, fat babies don't have reflux. Luckily, I have enough mommy friends to know that's not true.

She needs to have a test at the hospital to confirm reflux. The hospitals are scheduling the test 3-4 weeks out. In the meantime, she's still coughing. It might be my imagination, but I think she's getting worse by the day. Or maybe it's just my mind finally finding a pattern to the coughing now that I have an idea of what it is.

Right now we're managing one day at a time. Cereal in her bottle doesn't help at all and I can't get her to sleep upright for the life of me. But, I'm still packing the cereal in her bottle and giving her non-acidic baby food to try and help for now.

I called the doctor today to ask for a prescription of Zantac or Prilosec or anything to help her until we can have the test done. I called at 9:30 this morning and never received a call back. I was also promised a call back today with my appointment date and time for her test. I didn't hear about that, either.

They have until tomorrow at lunch. Then? No more Mr. Nice Mommy.

Letting Go

Nathan's first day of preschool is tomorrow. He's been going to daycare for over two years now but this is very different. Daycare is playtime with some snacks and naps sprinkled in. Preschool, on the other hand, is for the big kids. Part of me (the mom part) refuses to believe that my son is a "big kid."

He'll be riding the school bus from his daycare to the elementary school down the road 4 days a week for 3 hours a day. I reminded him today that he'll be riding the school bus tomorrow and the response that I got was something of an excited squeal that was cut short by an uncontrollable, almost hysterical, fit of giggles.

Yes, he's that excited.

And he should be. Nathan loves to learn new things. He's going to thrive there. I will not be surprised if he starts reading soon. I was writing his name on his backpack tonight and he stood next to me naming each letter as I wrote it and then proceeded to tell me that "N-A-T-H-A-N spells Nathan" in a very matter-of-fact way.

(Here's where the mom thing kicks in.)

The obvious response is, "That's great! You know your letters!" Which is exactly what I told him. But, inside, I was secretly wishing that I could shrink him back down to baby size, change his diaper and rock him while I fed him a bottle.

I was reading a friend's blog tonight and it hit me: this is what the rest of my life is going to be like.

A series of emotional highs and lows all rolled into one. It all starts at birth and the first few milestones happen quickly. Smiling, laughing, rolling, crawling, walking. The milestones slow down after that, but it seems that the further apart they are, the bigger they are. The first day of school, first birthday party, first sleepover, first girlfriend, driver's license, first job, graduation, college, marriage, babies. . .

And the emotions only increase exponentially with each child you have. When Lily rolled over I didn't just watch her roll over. In my mind, I watched Nathan roll over for the first time, too. When Nathan put his backpack on, I had an image flash through my head of Lily in curly pigtails striking the same pose three years from now.

Only a parent can understand how bittersweet it is to watch your child grow up. The overwhelming joy and sorrow that you feel when you realize that a page has turned and things will never be the same again.

I look at Nathan and I know that he's ready for more. I know that I can't hold him back. It's not fair to him. So I will smile tomorrow and be excited with him and find comfort in the fact that he is ready.

That's all we can do as parents, isn't it? Make sure that they're ready. Ready for whatever comes their way. We find a way to guide them gently without taking the reins. We even learn how to let them fall sometimes and, harder still, learn how to sit back and let them pick themselves up.

He's not a baby anymore. I know that he is ready for this. If I hold him back to satisfy my own maternal need it will do him more harm than good.

It's not "just preschool." This is his first adventure without me there beside him. But, I will be there at the end of the day to hear all about it.

He's ready. And, like it or not, so am I.

It's Been Awhile

It's been over a mont since I last posted a blog. Oops.

Things got a little busy between work and school and these two little angels I have.

Occasionally, I am reminded of what a wonderful husband I have. Saying that he's an improvement from my first is an understatement.

This week I came across a girl on a message board that I frequent who has a stepson and literally can't stand him. The reasons she gave were things that were beyond his control but instead of helping the little boy and getting him out of an unhealthy situation (living with his mother) she chooses to treat him like a filthy mutt and hose him off in the garage when he comes over.

If you are a single parent and are currently in the dating game, please find someone who loves your child as much as you do. It is possible. Is it easy? No. But, you owe it to your child to find someone who will treat him fairly and lovingly.

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Work

Today was my first day back to work after 12 gloriously long weeks of maternity leave.

It was rough.

First of all, I work in customer service in a call center. If you've ever worked in a similar environment you know that policies and procedures change on a daily basis. So, I spent the first part of my morning trying to catch up on e-mails that I had received when I was gone. My company has a habit of sending out an e-mail update and then sending out a correction to the previous e-mail and then sending a final corrected copy. And then your manager and peers all forward you the same e-mail just to make sure you received it...anyone seen Office Space? "Did you get the memo?" That was my morning. Every e-mail I received was resent at least three times by different people.

If that wasn't tedious and boring enough, I kept thinking about Lily.

Today was her first day of daycare. I was going to try taking her a little bit at a time starting at about 8 weeks, but they won't take a baby until she's 12 weeks old. She did awesome when I dropped her off. She was talking and smiling and cooing. And when I called at noon they said she had eaten for them and had been a great baby all morning.

Mommy, on the other hand, was not doing so hot.

I was in the bathroom crying at least three times. Not because I don't trust the daycare, because I do. Nathan has been there since he was 18 months old (going on 2 years now) and I have never had any reason to think that they mistreated or neglected him. I just missed her so much. (Yes, I missed Nathan, too, but he's a big kid. He likes playing with his friends so school is no big deal to him!) All I wanted to do all day was scoop her up and snuggle her and smell her hair.

I'm sure it's just normal Mommy guilt. Nathan was with my mom the first time I went back to work after he was born. And I handed in my two week notice that day and stayed home until he was 10 months old. When I did go back to work, my mom watched him until he was 18 months old. She sent me a text at least once an hour telling me what he was doing and sending me pictures...

I felt so disconnected from my baby today. She's not old enough to be independent. She still needs me. The last time I sat in that chair at work I had her safe and secure all snuggly inside of me. It just felt wrong not being with her today.

People keep telling me that it gets easier. I sure hope so. I can't imagine it getting any worse. My heart was literally aching today. I just hope tomorrow goes by faster that today did. I can't handle another torturous 8 hours like that again...

This is What It's All About

Have a great Easter weekend, everyone!

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She Smiled At Me

I have yet to capture it on camera as she hasn't quite mastered it, but Lily smiled at me today.


Just as I was beginning to doubt myself as a mother . . .

Just when I was beginning to think I was a terrible person for not feeling a bond with my child . . .

Just as I was starting to resent this little creature who demanded that I feed and change her dozens of times a day without so much as a "Thank You" in return . . .

Just as I felt that my head was going to explode if I had to button the snaps on her sleeper in the dark at 2:00 AM one more time . . .

Just as I picked her up to get her dressed for the day . . .

She smiled at me. And she melted my heart.

One smile. One sweet, toothless, goofy smile that lasted only for a few fleeting seconds.

Only when you are at the end of your rope, can one smile mean so much.

Only when you begin to question if you are actually cut out to be a parent, can one smile make the world stop spinning.

Only when you wake up to a crying baby and think that you won’t last another day, can one smile give you strength.

Just one smile says, "I love you for the diaper changes.

I love you for the milk in my tummy.

I love you for the cuddles, the kisses, the late night snuggle sessions.

I love you for helping me grow big enough and strong enough to make it this far.

I love you for my snuggly jammies and my warm bed.

I love you for holding me when I'm scared and playing with me when I'm happy.

I love you for keeping me safe.

I love you for taking care of me.

But mostly, I love you for loving me."

One smile. . .

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