Your Grandfather

 Your grandfather passed away today.  Your fathers father- Wayne Milam.  He passed out while driving with your aunt Chrissie, and crashed into a fence.  The accident itself did them no harm, but apparently his heart was so damaged he could not be kept alive.

I've been trying to decide on what I would write in this post, summarizing a life in a few paragraphs, and I realize how little I knew about him. So I apologize if the brevity of this post doesn't do him justice.  And if some of the points are construed as negative, I'm just sharing the whole story with you and trying to show his "quirks".

Your grandfather served in the army and did a tour in Korea around the time your aunt Chrissie was born.  He actually didn't meet Chrissie until she was about 9 months old.  While in the military he worked as an MP (military police) and worked with the K-9 unit.  This is where he says he became a dog person and became a (self proclaimed) expert trainer.

He was a part of paternal twins.  His twin brother was Paul who passed away about 3 years ago. He and his brother were VERY close and lived together for many years.  Paul is a whole other story to be told another day... He also had two sisters. 

But your grandfather believed that twins skip a generation and he believed (so badly wanted) that you could be twins.  Obviously, that didn't happen.  He also was certain that you were a boy, and he admitted to wanting you to be a boy.  (Wrong again). Don't get me wrong, He was thrilled to have you here, and loved that you were a girl, but I don't believe it was but a few weeks after your birth and he was asking about "when we were going to start trying for a boy".

Your grandfather was stubborn. If he believed something to be true, no one else could tell him otherwise or even think  something differently.  He got snippy with your aunt Chrissie in regards to a bundt cake- telling her that "bundt" was in fact the flavor of the cake, not the shape in which it's baked.  Of course, your aunt is an avid baker like myself and knows that to be hogwash (although I think you don't even have to be a big baker to know that...) 

He was also convinced that other than myself and your father, that he was the next closest in DNA to you.  Science would prove the correct answer to this to be your aunt Chrissie.

He was a real homer when it came to sports. Loved the Ravens and Orioles.  He would often times come to our house to watch games.

When he would describe a food, often times speaking of what he'd bring to our house as contribution towards dinner or our cookout, he'd be very descriptive.  Chicken breast was "fresh plump grade a breast".  Fish was "thick wild Alaskan tuna steaks".  Humorous trait, almost as if he was reading it from the store ad.

He loved fishing and often spoke of how anxious he was to teach you in the future. I don't know the last time he wet fishing with his hips (had them replaced). 

One thing he wanted more than anything was a normal home life. He wanted the wife who would make dinner for the family, and sit around together at the table and eat.  With your grandmother, when he was married to her, she rarely cooked.  Instead every night she took the brood over to mamaw and papaws house for dinner (that mamaw made) and ate with a huge group of people.  Your grandfather wanted nothing more then to sit at his table with his family and just be normal.  That's one reason why he was so fond of me- I am giving your father the life he wanted.  Homemade dinners, I bake, we eat together... Etc.

I have very few pictures of him where he is smiling.  We joke saying that it's the Milam face to look so serious, but he often times was uncomfortable due to his  hips.  I truly don't know if I have any picture of you and him together, which upsets me.  But here is a photo from our wedding, the only one he smiled in and one of my favorites ever of him:

One thing is for sure- he loved you.  He thought you were just the most amazing thing to have happened since your daddy and aunt Chrissie were born.  He loved your smile, he would exclaim how advanced you were, how beautiful you are, and was convinced that you were showing signs of being left handed. 

Rest in peace, dad.

Peek-a-boo

Yesterday while I was out working, you were playing peek-a-boo with daddy.  And while this may not seem like a big deal- as you often play and love peek-a-boo, this one is worth noting as you were the instigator.  You were the one taking a blanket, lifting it over your face, and then lowering it quickly looking for someone to notice. By the third time you lowered the blanket, your daddy was on the other side making funny faces.  You squealed and giggled, and kept playing 10 more times or so... So cute.  Wish I could have seen it.

But I do get moments like this, so I think it's fair:

Food

We started introducing solid food to you when you were 5 1/2 months old.  Your very first food was avocado which you ate reluctantly and gave a lot of faces too but I think it was just because of the texture and being something new. 

(you eating avocado I think you wore more than you ate - who knew that bibs were thing?)

 Since then you've tried numerous foods - most of which you've loved.

I've been making all of your food at home, which makes me feel better as I can examine the quality of the food before cooking it, as well as truly know what is going into your mouth.  So far, you've had:

Avocado 

butternut squash 

Sweet potato 

green beans 

bananas* 

apples 

pears 

plums 

cereal

The only food that you have hated and refused to eat no matter what I tried to mix with it was green beans. 

But bananas ?? you love bananas... You were iffy on plums- but add in banana? Awesome.  Give me more.  Bananas by themself? Awesome.  Bananas mixed with anything? Awesome. I'd give you bananas daily if they didn't constipate you ... Hence why we've introduced the plums to flush you out.  Seems to be working thus far. 

This mornings breakfast :

You have the prettiest eyes...

Bon appetite ! 

Your first birthday party

You turned six months old earlier this week and I can't help but think how close we are to you turning one.  I don't want to rush things, but I occasionally stop and think about your first birthday party.  I'm very anxious to throw it- as it's a celebration of you!  I often wonder what the theme may be, and I assume by then you'll show some preferences in toys / things to base the party on.  But if I had to plan the party today based on things you express an interest in, the theme may be:

- curtains

- watermelon

- boobies

- purple telephones

- rainbows

- Duncan

- bananas

- the light fixture in our dining room

- mirrors

So... I could build a party on a few of those ideas... Rainbows. Watermelon... But hopefully you show a theme friendly preferred toy sometime in the next few months.  Even though your dad thinks a boobies themed party catered by Hooters would be hysterical 

To the mom of a newborn

I often think about when I will eventually show this blog to you.  I want to be old enough to appreciate the nostalgia, but not so old that I won't remember anything if you ask me a question about something you read.  Maybe it will be when you turn 21 ... maybe it will be when you get pregnant with your first child ( if you so choose to have children). Whenever it is I hope it is before you have your first child so you too can read and appreciate this blog entry I found yesterday.  I found it purely on circumstance - not a blog I typically follow.  But it's so perfectly describes how I have been feeling these first few months of motherhood.  I read this entry and damn near cried- it felt like someone finally understood and could put pen to paper (or fingers to keys) as to what I was feeling.  Motherhood is like this exclusive club that you never fully understand until you're in it.  But once you are in you gain the whole new level of appreciation for all the other mothers out there especially yours. I hope that you get out of this what I did - it's okay to  not be superwoman.  Whatever you are doing is probably great and probably exactly what your baby needs.

Enjoy

___________________

To the mom of a newborn

I am freeing you today.

I am freeing you from everything that you think you need to be doing.

I am freeing you from needing to have your house spotless, meals prepared, perfectly done hair, and a to-do list with everything checked off. (Oh yes, by the way, that to-do list will never ever happen so just prepare yourself for that.)

I am freeing you from scrolling through pinterest or facebook or looking through those glossy colored magazines and you deciding that the only way to be a good mom is to have all of that stuff done.

I am freeing you from looking at the mom with many kids and wondering why she seems to have it together and you’re struggling to just get the dishes in the dishwasher.

I am freeing you.

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You, right now, do not need to worry about any of the should have’s, the could have’s, the need to do’s, the stuff that we all think motherhood is about. You don’t need to sit in your living room wondering why taking care of this creature that you waited for what feels like forever feels so ridiculously hard.

Instead, listen. Listen, you have a newborn.

You have a newborn.

A wake up whenever they want to, cry without you knowing what they want, eat all the time, poop all the time, spit up, change their clothes what feels like a million times, rock in the rocking chair, pace the living room dancing, burping, little creature that needs you all the time.

Do not worry about the other stuff right now. I know, I know, it feels like a fog – it feels like you’re underwater swimming and needed all the time – and the truth is? That is exactly what it is. I’m not going to sugar coat it. Don’t feel guilt about not savoring every single moment, but because, really, you just need to get through every single moment. This is a time in your life when you will be pushed to your limits mentally and physically. You’ll want sleep more than anything and will dream about just getting a fifteen minute catnap. You’ll eat in spurts and will have laundry behind and well, you’ll give and give and give.

Don’t compare.

Do. not. compare.

Don’t look at the mom with many kids and wonder how in the world she has it all together when you feel like you can barely roll out of your bed in the morning. Do you know why? Because it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, honestly, if you feel like she has it all together. Do you know what matters?

What you’re doing right now.

It’s a season. A very short season that when you’re in the middle feels like it will take forever to get through. It’s a time in life where the days are blurred together and yet passing by. And you will get through.  You will simply get through. That newborn will grow, will start smiling, will start sleeping through the night (can we just all stand up collectively and cheer?), will start becoming more independent, and you will grow with them. Don’t forget that. You are learning to mother, you are learning about your sweet child and their nuances, and you are growing stronger.

Some day, sweet mother with the newborn, you will be in the spot where I am remembering these days. I look at my life and think about how it’s been four years (look at those pics of my Samuel) since I’ve had a newborn in my house, and yet, oh my goodness, I can still remember how exhausting it truly was during those days.  And you will know, you will remember, and you will tell that mom with the newborn the same thing. You will tell her how important it is to accept help, to sleep, to not care about minutia, to overpack the diaper bag,  and to learn to trust herself.

No one can teach another how to mother – it is simply something learned – it’s an ebb and flow, trial and error, pick up and do it again, and most beautiful thing. Don’t forget that. Even though it may just feel like what you’re doing doesn’t really matter or that you’re out of breath or that you just wish sometimes for a moment to have a break or that you’re not doing a great job or that all you want is sleep – it all matters.

So, from me to you, I stand up and tell you that you are doing an amazing thing right now in the very normal giving of self. Yes, you right now, in a home that feels that it might have turned just a bit upside down.

You’ll find your new routine. You’ll get sleep. Well, maybe.

You are mother.

Now, onward, sweet mom with the newborn.

You are amazing.

And one day, one day you’ll wake up not so tired, you’ll look at that baby that’s grown, that baby that you rocked and rocked and sang to you, and you’ll think I did it. Because you will do this.

__________________

Your First Christmas

Yes, I know, I suck at keeping a blog.

Don't judge.

Anyways, I wanted to fill you in on your first Christmas.

I just had a long post written and it didn't save... ::head wall::

Okay so let's try this again.  Christmas Eve was spent at home with my grand  parents (the Sonn's) and your fathers friend Bryan.  Bryan was a last minute addition as his family lives far away and he would have otherwise spent Christmas alone.  I spent the day cleaning, cooking dinner, making dessert, baking cookies for Santa, taking care of you, and entertaining my grandparents. 

It. Was. Busy.

And when that was all done and everyone (but your father and I) went to bed, prep work for Christmas morning breakfast began.  

Santa's cookies were peanut butter cookies with dark chocolate chips.

Dinner was:

   - glazed ham (nothing special-  the only thing I did to it other than heat it up was add pineapple slices).

   - potatoes Anna ( with Yukon and sweet potatoes)

   - roasted carrots

   - caramelized pearl onions 

Dessert were wine glasses filled with red and green jello layered with whip cream on top.  But, everyone was too full to eat it.  I slowly ate them over the next few weeks.

Christmas Eve night we opened presents with my grandparents.  They got you a laugh and learn table (it's a bit too old for you still) and your baby genius Neptune play center (you LoVE this). 

After everyone went to bed, your father and I prepped breakfast for he next morning.  We had:

   - homemade cinnamon roll wreath (huge hit - making this a tradition)

   - egg casserole (sounded appealing as it was a crock pot meal but turned out so so)

   - orange punch (just oj with slices of pineapple and strawberries- but apparently tasted freshly squeezed)

   - fruit tree (a picture of what it should have been below, but I grew far too tired, and we ran out of toothpicks, so it turned into a fruit tray)

So Christmas Eve went well (other than how LOUD my grandparents are! Pop is hard   of hearing so grandpa always shouts. For everything. Even while you were sleeping, she'd shout across rooms.  She commented as she was leaving how "it's amazing how quiet you have to be for her to sleep."  In which we replied "we don't have to be quiet (we already are), we just can't be loud."  Somewhat of a backhanded way of saying 'you're too loud!'  But I digress...

Christmas morning we hoste a large group - my grandparents were still there, and your fathers mother / father / sister joined us as well.  The food went well, and we all opened gifts together.  

You got so many toys... Mostly from your father and I.  Your toy car, blocks, cars, stacking rings.... We also decided to start an annual tradition in the form of a gift for you.  Well we couldn't decide which route to go - so we chose two traditions and we'll see which one sticks.  Pajamas, and a necklace that I chose for you.  I believe our plan for the jewelry is to collect them over the next several years and give them all to you on your 16th birthday / Christmas. 

After the masses had left - we enjoyed the rest of the day quietly at home. Much needed and enjoyed and a great way to end your first Christmas.  

The Birth Story - Part 2

To start the induction they give me citotec.  A pill that they put "up there".  I'm only 1.5 cm dilated to start.  They give me a wireless monitor to track the baby's heart rate, and I start walking up and down the hallway.  After 10 minutes, a nurse comes running over and says that I need to stay in bed.  Apparently while walking around, your heart rate dropped.  I get in bed and just stare at the heart rate monitor (yours - not mine) and pray.

After several hours, I'm only 3 cm dilated.

Friday night @ 9:00 PM the doctors put a folley bulb in place to try and help me dilate more and as natural as possible.  Once in place, the bulb is inflated to 5 cm.  The idea is once it falls out, you're 5 cm dilated.  Easy - right?  The bulb didn't hurt but was awkward.  I'm still restricted to the bed.  Contractions get a little stronger but aren't difficult.  The bulb pops out on it's own when I go to the bathroom around 3:00 AM.

We continue to stare at the heart rate monitor... praying that you're okay.

I'm somewhat stalled at 5 cm, so Saturday morning the doctor decided to break my water to help encourage things along.  It wasn't a huge gush as many exclaim it to be.  But then again - my water was low to begin with.

Saturday early afternoon I'm 7 cm dilated and 90% effaced.  At this point I was feeling a lot of pressure and thought I had to be close.  NOPE!  Still a long ways to go.  I try to sleep between contractions.  Your father stays awake and stares at the heart rate monitor.

For a brief period I was allowed to get up from the bed and sit on an exercise ball.  It definitely seemed to help to rock and have your father put pressure on my back.  They put a mat down (which reminded me of a puppy pee pad) to keep the ball clean.  (Embarrassing note - I peed myself here multiple times.  I couldn't control it.)  After a few hours of laboring "naturally", I stood up from the ball to get back in bed (another deceleration of your heartrate) and the nurse noticed a spot of muconium on the mat.  This caused a great deal of concern to the medical staff.  She called the doctor who proceeded to tell us that there is now a concern over the muconium blocking the baby's airway and possibly choking.  We needed to administer pitocin and get you out ASAP.  I of course am scared out of my mind, agree to whatever she says, all in hope that you'll be okay.  Birth plan be damned - you had to be healthy.

The pitocin kicks in and the contractions severely intensify.  I try to labor through it as best I can but I was hyperventilating and felt like my heart was about to pop out of my chest.  There are several points throughout this where I'm convinced it's go time, it has to be, check me - I have to be 10 cm now.  But nope.  Still only 7.5 cm, or 8, or 8.5...

While sitting on the exercise ball, the doctor on staff comes running in and tells me to get back in bed immediately.  Again, your heart rate and dropped.  Now I'm confined to bed to deal with my contractions which were already excruciating. 

I eventually break down and tell the nurse to administer an epidural.  Well it's not that easy.  I had to be on an IV with fluids for 1 hour before I could get the epidural.  I freak out even more, as I already felt like I was at my breaking point.  I lay there and try to breath and count the seconds as they pass, trying to get to the epidural quicker.

Around 7 pm, the anesthesiologist enters the room and asks me to sit up and sit perfectly perfectly still as he gives me a "light" dose of the epidural.  Sit completely still for a minute and a half.  My contractions were one minute apart.  It was incredibly difficult to not move (I'm pretty sure I did a little).  Within minutes, I feel a sense of relief and my legs feel slightly numb.  The contractions are still there, but no longer insanely painful.  I take this chance to sleep, & your father watches the Orioles game.

Around 10 PM I wake up to the doctor wanting to check me.  She states that I'm 10 cm dilated, and we can start pushing soon.  The doctor advises me that they will call the NICU staff to have them on hand due to the muconium issue.  She assures me though that whenever they have to call them, the baby is born screaming.  And if the baby is screaming at birth - there is no blockage. They get the room all together and at 10:20 PM I start pushing.  The doctor said I was a great pusher.  Now I don't know if she says that to everyone, or if I genuinely was (and my squats weren't for nothing).  As you're crowning, and in between contractions, Dr. Abello comments on how much hair you have.  She asks your father "do you want me to braid it while we wait?" (we only pushed during contractions).  He responds with "I don't think we'll have time for that, but how a bout a mo-hawk?".  The doctor gives you a quick mo-hawk and we continue pushing.

At 10:47 PM on July 20th you are born screaming.  The NICU staff takes you immediately (my wish was to have you placed on my chest - but again, muconium...).  Dr Abello claims, "oh my god, she's huge! I'd guess 8 (lbs) 6 (oz)."  The NICU checks you out and everything is fine.  Your weight clocks in at 9 lbs 2 oz.  As they are cleaning you up, your father stayed by my side, as he was used to doing.  He hadn't left me for the past two days.  I tell him " go over there and be with your daughter!" It already killed me to not have you placed on my chest immediately and that my face wasn't the first one you'd ever see, so I wanted at least your father to be with you. (I still had to deliver the placenta and be stitched up. 2nd degree tear of my nether regions. Thanks kid ;) !)

After the nurses are certain that you're okay, they put you on my chest with your head in the nape of my neck.  It was surreal - I couldn't see you based on your position, nor could I move too well due to the stitching going on from my tear along with the epidural inhibiting movement of my legs.  But I had you in my arms.  This moving, screaming, warm little being laying on my chest was mine.  The peanut that I have had with me for the last 9.5 months in my belly, was now outside, and in my arms.