Blasting Light - Exposure!

To a point, the phrase, "Healing takes time" is true.
Without awareness of what one needs to do to heal, time will be an enemy.

I wish to lay my soul bare before anyone whom will read this. I do so with trepidation. However, I have heard it said, "Vulnerability is the greatest measure of courage." To write this AND post this will be a defining moment towards my healing.

I was diagnosed in December with severe depression and anxiety disorder.

A process of losing me began to stew over 2 years ago when I was in my zone, my niche, my flow and we moved. Allow me to preface, I blame no one. I was shook and it has taken me a while to stabilize. We moved from a place where I finally wasn't known primarily, as a stay-at-home-mom and/or the city manager's wife. The details aren't important for the sake of healing. I am not at a place where I can bullet point all of the emotions....the underlying thought: When do I matter and to Whom? The past is the past, while one needs to identify the tripping events.....I can't change it and I know now, I wouldn't change it. I put on my "face". I dug in, in our new community, and put myself out there to start sharing my love of my business - Young Living while trying to keep connected to my people I left behind in the previous community. I was determined I would "fake it til I made it."

Two months later, we learned I was pregnant. If you have read any of my blog at all, you know, this was not joyous news no matter how others put on their dancing shoes and gave no thought to what I was going to have to deal with prior to a baby truly getting here. I felt like I couldn't be honest with those that I had been close to because I was met with, "Be positive. Have the right attitude!" There would be another baby! That is the important thing, right? [Disclaimer: The past 2 lines are dripping with sarcasm. My face would give that away, if we were conversing face-to-face. I am still a work in progress of realigning with reality of relationships after the past 2 years. I can't change how it made me feel. Also, I swear. Yes, I have a potty-mouth occasionally. I won't apologize or be shamed for it. ] My parents? They were scared shitless, initially. Why? Because I was at great risk. My Mom was my biggest support through the coming months. Me? I cried for weeks after learning the news. Fear shrouded everything. Guess what? Only Steve saw me cry almost every night. I pushed myself until I literally couldn't. I didn't unpack our home. I didn't scrub floors, I didn't do laundry. Our home looked like we needed an intervention for an episode of Hoarders. It was so awful because I do not know how to function in that. And I didn't know who to ask for help and I was ashamed of anyone seeing the condition of it ......because this was not the first impression I wanted to expose in our new community! My mind ran rampant with people talking about how the city manager's stay-at-home wife doesn't do anything all day. "That poor man!" The reality is I have been burned by that gossip factor, in the past [not on my housekeeping] but other things. There's a great possibility NO ONE would have said or spread anything. However, since I didn't know where I was safe and I was in survival mode....I just kind of rolled-over. I didn't love myself enough to be vulnerable and ask for help. I was in physical pain most of the time. We went to have the "big" ultrasound in Iowa City at 20 weeks. I had reservations about delivering in Waverly. Iowa City examined me and consulted that they would be happy to have me doctor in Iowa City but all looked great! So it was our decision. Well, we knew we didn't want to drive 2.5 hours every month in the Winter for regular appointments. PLUS - it was a girl! I was able to breathe. And I did.

4 weeks later, my water broke. [Please read the post "A Warrior Princess is Born" for the story of the beginning of that adventure.]

The experience of Katie's pregnancy, her birth, the separation from my family, grieving how nothing went ideal through 3 pregnancies, anger towards myself for not being able to have a "normal" pregnancy, coming home as an alien and being thrust into "regular" life......I wasn't being honest with myself. I was shutting down. The insecurity was magnified to a point where I started resigning that maybe I didn't have a place here. Maybe I was just the donor of babies to the world. I have seen myself as a vessel all my life. One day I wrote, "You are bigger than the life you are cramming yourself into." The issue with that statement is that I wasn't taking ownership of who was doing the cramming.

The week of Christmas 2015 - It got bad. The thoughts of harming myself......I had kept all the pain killers the hospital sent me home with, 10 months before. I remember when I left Ronald McDonald House the thought was "throw them away - you didn't use them in the midst of that pain...." and I packed them with the story, "I may need an out. I am weary. Some have made it clear to me, I am not needed as a mother or a wife. What if they don't need me? If it's as simple as that - I will want out." I still had a month before Katie was discharged. I wouldn't know if it was as I feared, until I got home.
The week of Christmas 2015 - I found a counselor and started anti-depressants. The shame. I am no longer ashamed - so please don't send messages that I needn't be ashamed.  Also, I don't want pity or sympathy. I share because I know I am not alone. I know there are others that are imprisoned by their fear of dying and/or living and worst of all- dying with a heartbeat. I had nearly completely disconnected. I called the OB who sent me to Iowa City the night my water broke. She was the only doctor I trusted in a close proximity to where we had moved prior to getting pregnant with Katie. She was part of my story. She saved my life and my daughter's life. On the phone, I trembled and told her, "My thoughts are not ok." "Do you want to harm yourself?" she asked. "Yes, but I can't. The baggage it will leave my kids with......" and I sobbed. She said something I will never forget, "Good. If you only knew how often children save their mother's lives." Then she told me the regular professional and clinical stuff and we set up a time for me to see her, and it was prompt. Then I was connected with a family medicine doctor to oversee the administering of an anti-depressant.

I was having anxiety attacks and had no idea that's what they were. I couldn't breathe. There was tightness across my chest. My body or parts of my body would go completely numb. I realized I have lived with anxiety all my life. Just always told myself, "You are neurotic and weird." A tip: if you view yourself in any light other than amazing and fabulous? Don't share that with those that don't love you. They will pounce and agree. Experience talking - when you have a low self-confidence, those who don't love you see you as prey and will jump at the opportunity to reinforce the negative self-talk. I don't know why. I still struggle with anxiety. When I feel it coming on, I try to do something fun or do a mindfulness exercise. There are many triggers: hearing from certain people, loud noises, the dog barking unexpectedly, the boys fighting, when Katie is in kitchen because we don't have the capability of putting a baby gate at the back steps going down from the kitchen, something on the calendar, leaving the house, large groups of people........I will keep working at it. I fear being perceived as lazy for as often as I have to sit and do breathing exercises through out the day. Oh....I struggle going out to community events.

No one else is responsible for my healing, but me. Sharing my story is part of my healing. When I expose shame and fear, darkness loses it's seduction and power. A couple months ago - I was in no place to write this and post it. My last post was called "Sanctuary"......we all need Sanctuary. Sanctuary is not synonymous with Seclusion. No one else is responsible for building my self-esteem but me. And that is what I have been doing.
Choices....choosing life over existence. Choosing to see me as my Creator sees me. Choosing to embrace this moment, and this moment, and this moment and the next and each thereafter. It's a discipline. I also need to start exercising...but I am giving my mind exercise - the good kind. Not running aimlessly.

I got stuck. I was spinning out, in my mind, over hurts, over my purpose, over things in the past, things I couldn't control, things I was and still am angry about. I seek ways to reinforce and pour energy into what is right with me. I have had to get to a point that even if not another single human being sees my value and treats me accordingly - it's ok.. because I will.

I had a distinct turning point, two weeks ago. I was watching my new favorite show Super Soul Sunday on OWN. It wasn't one single moment turned around that pierced through and shed light on my stinkin' thinking. It was 3 episodes of Super Soul Sunday. One with Daniel Goleman about Emotional Intelligence; a second with rock star Brene' Brown about her book Rising Strong (which has inspired me to be transparent about this struggle), and a third with Jon Kabat Zinn about Meditation. In that third episode, Oprah repeated a line from a previous guest she'd had, defining mindfulness as, "If you are cooking and stirring the pot, stir the pot." I heard that and instantly my mind's eye scrolled fast and furiously. I could see how I rarely ever look zdown and stir the pot, for the meal I am cooking without worrying about where are the kids? Anxiety for all I have to do or what I haven't accomplished and how I could be doing something else than stirring that damn pot. Which leads me to another quote by Eckhart Tolle: "Stress is nothing more than wishing the moment you are in was something different." Is that not true???


Therefore, I have communicated with Steve about what I need. I had two Saturdays the past month just Tilly and me, in our home. Recharge time! I meditate a couple times a week. I have to make it a discipline because it is incredible. There is an app called Calm - so great.. I have started coloring in adult coloring books. I have bought tickets for a couple cool things to do over the next month, Steve and I will see Garth Brooks!!!! A new friend and I are taking a painting class. And a life-long friend and I are going to a foodie gig Sunday! Progress also means I have made Katie cry it out at bedtime. That is a whole other post. I basically haven't slept since the 3rd week of September until the past 2 weeks. She is not a special needs baby. For me it was part of the trauma of her birth and for 12 weeks I didn't get to hold her whenever I ached to. Not until the day before she was discharged. While that is true, I was doing her no favor by giving in to her every whim. That night, I took back my nights. She is almost 17 months old, coming up on 25 lbs., wearing 18-24 month clothes, eating and drinking everything she's given.....she is perfect. She always has been. We are now at the place where no one knows she came in the second trimester and weighted 1lb. 11oz. That her daddy's wedding bad could slide on her leg up to her thigh. She is good. Great! Time to take care of me again!

 I have vision for my life. There's a scripture that says, "Without vision, my people perish."  I lost myself gradually over the past 2 years. I have been finding myself the past two weeks! :) I have stopped taking the anti-depressants - I am being transparent. I've had no ill side-effects. I have nothing against anti-depressants. They serve a purpose. They got me to where I could see different options. When the light shines in and solutions are evident and in my control - I'd rather struggle and work it out. Plus, the thoughts were starting to get scary again, the prescription was up and I decided to just stop the drug. After 4 weeks of taking the drug, my energy increased - but no joy. They never really did help with anxiety. Joy returned when I started practicing living IN the moment. I am still seeing the counselor who gave me the green light for "Driving out of survival mode." I also saw a post on Facebook the past week that said, "Struggle is not the same as suffering." That really speaks to me.

I have dreams again. I am also practicing my listening so I can learn more from God. A belief I have which is helping me tremendously is that when I was a twinkle in Heaven, I chose this life. This body, these desires, my parents, these struggles, this path and said to God, "Ya! That life! Sign me up! Put me in the game, Coach!" Ok...so maybe sounds corny but what if Not only God knew what we'd face, in our lives, but at one point our spirit's did too?  Look at Super Man! He comes to earth and all his senses are jacked with and he has to learn how to discipline and train himself and hone his supernatural abilities to still be who he is, while loving and living presently, on Earth because it is a Gift to be on Earth. Huh. I like that.

Thank you for reading this. I know depression and anxiety are real. I also believe they are wake up calls to paying better attention to living authentically. I am grateful for when our bodies and minds indicate something isn't right - because then we have the opportunity to make it right. I haven't felt this great in 2 1/2-3 years. We are more powerful than we think. Being still is my new favorite place to be.

https://youtu.be/6Hi-VMxT6fc

Sanctuary

I was scrolling my Facebook Newsfeed, and saw a post from my friend, Kim to her Young Living Group Team Page. She asked what our word was for 2016. Our focus. Our mission statement. What word would we pursue for 2016 and learn how to encompass OR what word will we allow to encompass our lives for the year 2016.
This felt good. "This is just what I need!" My mind said to itself. A focal point. It was easy, as I rocked my Katie Beth for a nap. Bennett is already in bed. The Yule Log is playing on my tv.
"I crave quiet." I said to myself. Ha! You may say, "Good luck with that girl!"
I realized a solemn truth about myself, which, for some reason - I am going to share. I crave quiet in my mind. I crave quiet in my soul. "Be still and know that I am God." I breathe slower and deeper, just whispering those words. I am tired of the conversations that have no use. I am tired of explaining myself. I am tired of listening to myself speak of dreams and conquests to then keep a standard of mediocrity.
In reflection of 2015 - I think the word or phrase I didn't intentionally choose but my life encompassed was "stay afloat". I did it. I am a champion of treading water.
Now, it is time to enter "Sanctuary" physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I have slowly been making steps towards this - not knowing that 4-6 months later my theme for the new year would be to enter a preserve for my mind.
I have had my time to "come down" from the emotions of Katie's birth and hospital stay. [Not to say, I don't still get emotional - it is already far less.]  Now is time for quiet and sanctuary and to get a new plan. Right now, the plan is Sanctuary. Preserve me, listen to my heart, be still and know. I am excited for 2017 now. I imagine, I'll have come through 2016 with a plan and a much more solid knowing of God and myself for my future.
I feel it though, in my bones, 2016 is a year of grounding and sanctuary and zero hoops to jump through.
I already feel this won't be easy. Much resistance when you are doing what is good for you - I have come to experience. Oh well. I am a refugee with my papers stamped and approved for sanctuary.

Brave or Botched?

I figure, I am a woman. I am a mother. I am a lover.
I have breast fed. I have formula fed. I have used my breasts for more than feeding my children and [gasp] enjoyed it!
I have something to say about this normalize breastfeeding campaign that is, in my face every week, on social media.

I get the nature of media to sensationalize stories and to push buttons for the most "hits", the most shares, the most comments. Yesterday, my buttons were pushed. I chose not to enter the arguments in the comments of the stories.

It was a story I saw from two different sources, in my Facebook newsfeed. You may or may not have seen it. It was the photo of a breastfeeding mother, in a restaurant, with her breast exposed by pulling it out over the neck hole of her shirt. Baby covered the nipple. If you read the "story", it was the mother whining because another woman was giving her dirty looks and she was staring the oppressor down, a true act of defiance. Ugh.

From what I could tell, and for as long as I read comments, before turning away because my blood pressure was rising - most were shocked to open the link and see the entire picture (darn near entire boob)- and they voiced it upset them.

Just a couple thoughts......
I have seen the argument over and again about how the breast is solely for nurturing and nourishing a baby. Huh. Interesting. Seems practical. How in the world do we strip males of their fascination with this part of the female anatomy then? Because this is also practical. Am I the only one who feels a  minority is ignoring the fact, just like women have breasts, that men like breasts? Does this minority also expect us to emasculate men for this because it is a frivolous and shallow instinct? I assure you it is not shallow. It is nature. Raising boys.....it is amazing how quickly these age-old instincts kick in. Have you been around old guys? It never leaves. It's ok. It's normal. I did an experiment last Summer. We were on a road trip. I stayed in the car to nurse our daughter while the rest of the family went in to Arby's. For the record, I did not stay in the car, in a huff, because I "had" to be isolated from regular society since I breastfeed. I know she, our daughter, is easily distracted and wouldn't nurse well unless it was calm and quiet. Also I don't like exposing my breast to anyone than my husband. At the time, there was another HUGE hub-bub about "normalizing" breastfeeding online. Kathie Lee and Hoda's Facebook wall was inundated with brelfies or breastfeeding selfies. I decided to take one. When my husband returned, I showed it to him and asked, "What do you think when you see that?" His response? "That is HOT!" We laughed and I said, "Exactly."
Why are breastfeeding mothers shaming humans for looking at a breast when it is sticking out like in the picture that has "taken the internet by storm" as a sign of "bravery" for breastfeeding mothers everywhere? Breasts are sensual. They are beautiful. Some of us, like me, recognize the virility and drive of a man. When my husband is doing physical labor and comes in sweaty and a grungy mess, it turns me on. Just as I admire and respect my husband for providing and doing his utmost to keep us safe, I know many men who *greatly appreciate* women who cook their meals and take care of their children. It is how we are made. I am also raising 2 boys, 2 future men. I am not interested in a society that tries to strip down men's drive and nature in order to elevate women's rights.
There is no need to normalize breastfeeding. Breastfeeding has been normal since ....forever. It wasn't popular when my mom was raising kids, or maybe it was and she just didn't want to do that. I don't care. Honestly, how have humans nourished babies since the beginning of time? When I make a choice that may not be popular, I am not looking for everyone to validate me and coddle me and give me props. I do what I have to do. I follow my gut and act accordingly. If others don't like it, not my problem- it's theirs. Most of the time, I can even extend grace that they have no clue why I chose what I did and just smile through it. Even when I am criticized for my choices, I don't get in their face. I ignore them. Sometimes, it hurts when I get criticized for my choices, if they are people I love or thought I had a relationship with. But I don't attempt to intimidate strangers, people I could give two sh*ts about what they think of me. I carry on. That bothers me more than an entire boob staring at me in a restaurant. If you are going to make a decision, stop acting like everyone has to love it and/or like it. Make your decision, take your action and quit expecting others to recognize you and call you "brave". I know brave mothers. They are not the ones flopping their breast out in public. I could give you examples......for another post.
I encourage breastfeeding mothers everywhere- if you want to nurse, great! I encourage formula feeding mothers everywhere - if you want to not breastfeed and use formula - good for you, I applaud you!
I encourage all mothers that if you want to do what you are convicted to do, do it! If you feel it appropriate to expose yourself to a restaurant or store or football stadium, to feed your baby, do it! Be sure of yourself and do it graciously. Doing anything else only screams insecurity in your decision. If you feel it appropriate to cover yourself or excuse yourself from a public setting, to feed your baby - enjoy that! But then don't bellyache and blubber that you feel isolated, because maybe you should be showing your boobs to the world instead of being a victim.
As for me, I chose using a light cover or scarf, or nursing away from the public. I didn't see it as oppression - it was a phase, which came to an end quite quickly. I did and still do see my baby's feeds as an intimate time with my baby, whether I nursed or bottle fed. I only nurse now for morning and bedtime. Myself and generations of mothers before me didn't feel they were in need of a brigade to normalize exposed breasts.

I have said my piece.
 

Inner Child

Between this & that
I ask myself, "Which hat?"
You're known so bubbly and resilient
Today you need to be real about it.
I have trained myself to be what those around me need.
I have trained myself to ignore what matters to me.

It's hard for many, you see
to ask for help and hugs in the midst of their mystery.
Loved ones and well-wishers alike
will express their will for you to just move on.
Because they want what they want and can't allow your life change,
your pain, your pleas to impact what they have always wanted.
You will not be permitted to be a disruption.

........This. Is. Mean.

You see, many of us know there is this thing, our destiny.
We simply can't make out how to get there ...from...here.
Breathe in and breathe out - some days this is a huge accomplishment.
Is there anyone who notices?

I was raised to not draw attention to myself.
"Don't be a prima donna!
You get enough attention as it is.
They spoil and shower you and you are the definition of confidence.
You don't need any of this."
Now, all grown up and grown up for some time, I wonder,
"was it Envy that robbed me of getting all I needed?"

I can't go back and undo it all. I am not one to blame others. It's becoming clear
as I attempt to live without fear that I have more to live for, than a child's game,
being played by mothers.

So right now, this moment, and I don't know for how many more, I am resting. I am going back to find that little girl, who lost her twirl. She was beautiful and gracious. It's time to bring her center stage and watch her transform into a beautiful grown woman.
 

A Touch Not of this Place

Let me tell you sweet darling why I can't stop holding you. I want you to know there is a reason why I can't bear to not be with you every moment of every day.
I know where you came from - it's a place I have not seen, only felt. It is a place where I have lost dear loved ones to. A place I felt rejection when they left and I wanted to follow.
Time lessens that feeling. Time is the only thing to lessen that sting.
You came here, as a long-lost promise from our Maker to me. I surrendered that He'd give me three sons but not a daughter. Acceptance and Joy nonetheless.
When I learned I was with child, yet again.......Fear, fear like I have known the last two times, only times 1000. There were to be no more, no more without consequence of me joining those who rejected me for residence, not of this place.
See, I know this place is sacred, peaceful, beautiful beyond comprehension and the ultimate knowing of one's existence. I try not to think of this Place often, because it is Home. It is where I wanted to run back to and feared that I couldn't carry on if I lost anymore life from inside of me. It is where we return when our experience here is finished. The time is not for us to know, it is up to us to live. To relish the struggle and greatness of conquering this foreign domain, by being in relationship with our Creator while we breathe this air.
My heart cried out, with no voice. I kept it inside for weeks. How could I face the place, yet again, where such pain was, for sure... waiting?
Then they told me you were a girl. The veil of fear lifted - I knew He would not fail me. He would not tease me only to keep you.
A few weeks of peace and planning. Lately, I am thrown into remembrance of what I was doing a year ago and all the signs were there for the outcome that was coming to us.
Then, the gate opened and your world, inside of me, changed. A normal occurrence for a normal expectancy. This is when you revealed you are extraordinary. All the fear returned to me and loneliness as I had to be removed and put in a womb, just for me - so we could have you.
Brave face on. It wasn't just a face. It is what we do when we have a combat mission. Strap up and boots on. Let's do this.
I was in denial that you could come 16 weeks early. I refused to see the NICU. "We have 10 more weeks to go." Harumph. Back off with the suggestion to get a tour of the NICU.
When we had 14 weeks to go, you let me know it's "go time and I'm coming."
As I lay on the table, with your daddy playing with my hair, my body trembling, I sang. I sang praises to our Maker because we had to focus on Him. As hard as it is, we can't lose sight that He fights our battles. I was in battle for  your life and mine.
When the cutting, tugging, pulling, stapling was finished - I asked, "How much does she weigh?"
Nothing could prepare me for their reply......."1 lb. 11oz. and 13 inches long".
I could feel myself want to crash.
How? What??? No!
How will she live? What are You doing to me???? No! That can't be correct!
We remained in this womb of sorts. It felt like a refuge to finish our pregnancy - for both of us. It is called the NICU. Thank you God for the NICU. For the doctors, nurses, respiratory therapists and staff. We love you University of Iowa Children's Hospital!
The next day, when I laid eyes on you........I didn't recognize you. I was so sick still and felt such guilt that I couldn't keep you safe. But you looked back at me and you knew me. Sometimes, you still look at me as if to study my soul through my eyes and tell me, "We got this Mama."
Nineteen days later, it was time to hold you. I have heard other mommies stories of being so overcome with joy. I was still afraid. I felt like I was putting you in harm's way by wanting to hold you. We didn't get comfy. They laid you on my chest and I froze. I didn't want to move to make any monitor go off, where they'd tear you from me again. It still didn't feel real. But hold you I did. Even skin to skin, we had to cover you in layers of fleece. It was good to hold you. You loved it. This was the next big bullet point you issued: You were just so excited to be mine and to be here.
We called you Warrior Princess. You are not from this place Katharine. You are a miracle. 87 days in the NICU and you never faltered, waivered. You steadily gained every inch of ground.
Praise be to God that you are healthy, vibrant, strong, growing, with no concerns. Thank you Katie Beth for your warrior spirit. I don't want to pressure that you are to accomplish great things, but I cannot deny that I know better than anyone what you are made of: Strength, Tenacity and Grace.
Thank you for this past year!! We are almost to  your first birthday. You are the perfect addition to our family. Your brothers adore you. Your daddy and I will always delight in you.
As we enter November, we will celebrate our experience of YOU! It is an honor to forever hold a Touch, not of this Place.
 

Our Breastfeeding Story

Do you remember the first time you saw a mother breast feed her infant? I do. It was my dad's cousin's wife, feeding her son. Until that moment, and I was 10, I had no idea that was the reason women had breasts. I also didn't know any other reason. I remember wondering why men had nipples and no "bumps". I was 10. Once I learned that breasts could feed babies, well, my baby dolls experienced a whole  new level of play time. I remember stuffing my dolls under my shirts to nurse. My mom formula fed my sister, brother and me. The idea that I could hold my baby and feed her from my body was very cool to me.

When Jacob was born and we put him to breast, the little buddy latched on right away and started growling. The nurses giggled and were literally like hens clucking all around me. There were 3 of them all positioning my baby and my boob. I giggled with glee and such a sense of accomplishment after he started nursing.

Bennett was born and rushed to the NICU, was fed by an NG tube for 10 days and we started bottle feeding. We tried to get him to latch on, but at 35 weeks, the whole breathe, suck, swallow wasn't developed and it took about another 10 days and we were home by that point, before I could ditch the nipple shield and just breast feed him.

I nursed both boys for 3 months. If I knew then, what I know now about breastfeeding, I may have continued to BF. Then again....maybe not.

Katie was born and again, whisked away to the NICU because she was a micropreemie. She was born at 26 weeks. She weighed 1 lb. 11oz. I didn't even ask for days if it was a possibility for her to breastfeed ever. I was engrossed in pumping. In fact, Katie was born on a Friday evening. By Sunday morning because of the trauma of everything, lack of sleep - I couldn't sleep, the surgery, being away from my boys, and knowing the baby that I anticipated to be a 3 lb. baby was not even 2 lbs., the nurses had to swaddle me with warm blankets and give me a muscle relaxer because I had the first anxiety attack of my life. I could have gone with the donor milk. I was told by the neonatologist that took care of Bennett though that the donor milk is pasteurized. The donations are taken, thrown into a vat and cooked to kill bacteria. Problem is that it also kills all the vital enzymes and bacteria that baby needs for ....everything. She told me that she would prefer I use formula over donor milk. Now, that was 4 years ago....maybe things have changed. But that was the information I had at the time Katie was born and I was determined to start pumping because if a "normal" baby needs mother's milk - well....my micropreemie was definitely going to need the best option possible because the entire final trimester of her pregnancy was not, in my womb. I had committed mind, body and soul to getting her my breastmilk.

I pumped every 2 hours for the first 2 months of her life. [I am sure I will post again about the regimen of pumping for a micropreemie another time.] At 32 weeks, she was ready to start putting at my breast and start bonding that way. The nurses also knew that would boost my supply. At this point, I had only held Katie about 5 times. She was 6 weeks old. The first time we tried this, I was completely scared for Katie. Her head was the size of an orange and to have "one of the girls" coming at her freaked me out for her. I told the nurse, "Let's just rest her head here and we'll try to latch another time." The nurses thought my reaction was funny. They told me she'd be fine but I told them if I were her, I'd feel ganged up with "all of that" coming at me. The next day, we tried again and this time, had the nipple shield ready. Do you want to know what my little punkin' did? She latched on like a pro [32 weeks gestation, with an NG tube and O2 tube up her nose and down her throat] and she nursed for 32 minutes!!!!!! This was the biggest highlight of the NICU experience for me. It was doubtful that she'd ever actually breast feed. I had done research online and other mommies in the NICU were exclusively pumping to provide milk for their baby......not many nursed and certainly not as early as 32 weeks. Once she discharged at 37 weeks, I tried to follow the NICU's instructions of adding a fortifier to my breastmilk and giving her a couple bottles a day. I erred my not picking up the exact brand the NICU used and Katie reared her head back, spit out the milk and arched her back every time I attempted a bottle. I decided I could either freak out, or just nurse. Nursing tuckers out babies, especially preemies because it's more work than the bottle, initially. In the NICU, she got to nurse about 3-4 feedings/day and the rest were bottles. I was nervous that she wouldn't gain weight or that Katie would be too tuckered out to eat. But she never did. She thrived. She nurses to this day.

About a month ago, I was at my wit's end with breastfeeding. It was the first time, I started thinking about using formula. Katie's feeds, in the evenings, since discharge were high demand and after months of cluster feeding every evening, I was done. I talked to Steve about it and as I was telling him my total frustration, then came the fear. She was born a micropreemie and we are heading into flu/RSV season. Katie NEEDS the antibodies and goodness of mother's milk for as long as possible. I am not a breastmilk nazi. Some mothers are insane and judgmental about mother's that choose formula. That's not me. This time around was different though - I feel convicted about breastmilk. For a month, we had been feeding her one bottle, in the evening. We used the milk I expressed, in the NICU. A reserve, we thought would take months to deplete, got pretty low, after a month of Daddy getting to feed her a 7oz. bottle each evening. But that little bit helped my sanity SOOOO much. I could spend time with the boys, I could do laundry in peace. Sometimes, I just sat without having Katie attached and I felt........human. When we saw how little milk we had left, I started freaking out because I had a taste of freedom and couldn't go back to cluster feeds! Guess what our Warrior Princess showed she was ready to do? She started eating solids like a champ. Right on target 6 1/2 months adjusted, 10 months actual. Our pediatrician, also a neonatologist, had suggested I attempt since she was 4 months adjusted [7 months actual] to introduce her to avocado and greek yogurt. I did this off and on. Our pediatrician was adamant about trying to get the tongue used to what comes naturally to "termies" [term babies] because she had seen many cases of preemies not getting this down, dropping weight and having to go back to NG tube, with a button in the stomach. Katie had no interest and she just dribbled it out all over herself until a month ago and then she took off! This has been a god send because I still primarily nurse her, but the cluster feeding has ended. She eats lunch and supper with the family. :D She growls if we don't shovel it in fast enough. I have started making baby food, which is super fun.

Our hope is to continue to breastfeed until she weans. We hope that will be her adjusted 12 month birthday in February. I have learned so much more of what makes breastfeeding successful, with Katie. I am by no means a mama that wants to keep her attached forever, but I also cherish this gift and reflect on how badly I wanted to be able to do this with my last baby. It's a small miracle, in the sea of miracles, that Katie swims in. It's a beautiful thing.
 

The treasures of having a micropreemie

I have shared the raw emotion I have dealt with for the past year. Let me share with you what is fascinating about a micropreemie. The joys. The upside. The breaks.
These items are in no particular order, except as they came into my mind. 

#1) By the time you bring your micropreemie home, you are completely recovered from the C-section and all that you dealth with, physically, after the birth.
#2) You are used to sleep deprivation, from pumping every 2 hours around the clock.
#3) Once your milk supply is built up, you have nights to be good to yourself,  to get 5 hours of sleep at a time. Katie was 2 months old when I felt confident and freedom to power pump at 10pm and get up at 4AM to power pump. Getting one's sleep is NOT overrated, as any mommy knows.
#4) A micropreemie is still tiny and stays small, longer. Lots may find this a troubling fact - but I find that it is wonderful. Clothes last longer! When my boys were Katie's age they were 18 and 20lbs. Everything is going to last longer: her swing, her floor toys, her exersaucer, carseat. Katie is now moving into 6-9 month clothes and she is almost 10 months old. I was so tired with my boys at her size, and they grew so fast. I remember wishing they would slow down so I could savor their baby-ness. With Katie, I still don't want her to grow too fast, after all, she is my last baby - but I am loving that she is a peanut. She is healthy and happy and she has rolls. Her tinyness is part because she is a micropreemie. I like to believe, her petite and tiny frame is favoring me, as a baby and child. I was teeny tiny for a long time. I wore a size 6X from first grade through 3rd grade.
#5) You can buy a big box of diapers and they last longer because at size 2's, which she will be in a while longer (probably another 3 months), we get more bang for our buck because the smaller the diaper, the more fit in the box!
#6) You get the honor of watching your baby develop outside of the womb. They are miraculous. All the beeps and alarms and tubes and lines that baby is covered by, in the beginning, all go away. One by one signaling, your baby is getting ready to go home because your baby's systems are developing everything she needs. Your baby is producing all fluids, enzymes, hormones she needs to survive.
#7) You get to see a tiny baby, with eyes wide open and interact. A month after we came home with Katie, we had friends come to meet our Warrior Princess. The common sentiment? Shock that a baby so young was so interactive and attentive. I think it really demonstrates what a Warrior Princess looks like - Surreal yet....real! She is magical.
#8) Coming out on the other side of PPROM, having a micropreemie, being separated from your 2 other babies at home and the man that means more than other human being to you, is strength! Faith! Honor! Authenticity! Self-worth! Resilience! Priorities! All of that has taken several months to surface after coming home - or it did me. I know now, that while it was traumatic and hard and it sucked........I would do it all over again because of the weekends and evenings I have with my beautiful family of 5, sitting in one room, laughing, wrestling, dancing, snuggling.
#9) Having a micropreemie is a call to LIVE. You watch this tiny human being struggle to breathe  and fight to live. Suddenly, you realize this tiny human being is so damn excited to be here and chooses to be here. Do I look at my life that way? What do I want in life? What is inside of me that has been lying dormant? What have I been afraid of and want to overcome? What I have settled for and am sick of putting up with? What is the lesson I need to learn to stop cycles?
#10) My favorite think about having my micropreemie is she is 10 months old tomorrow. She is still all about snuggling during my favorite season - Fall. She's not about crawling and getting into everything yet. ;)

xoxo ~ Beth