Growing, Going, Gone

As C grows, each "first" is somehow more exciting than the last. From her first smile to her first giggle and from rolling over to sitting up, each is a cause for celebration, for photos and videos emailed to family and posted to facebook. It's amazing to think about all of the simple tasks we complete each day and imagine our parents willfully watching us, coaching us, and celebrating with us as we accomplished these milestones years ago.

Well, we have had a mobile child for a while now, watching her scoot and roll herself to her desired destination. But, now, we embark on new territory. Ladies and gentlemen, we officially have a crawler. 


Last Tuesday, after a night of scooting around in a pink poodle costume, C looked at a toy with sheer determination, pushed up onto all fours, and made her way across the floor. I cheered, I clapped, and then I took her toy away and put it on the opposite end of the rug so I could video her latest trick. 

Her newest skill paired with a slight case of separation anxiety toward mommy, and my heart melts. For the record, there is nothing cuter than a crawling baby... except when she's crawling toward you. I hope this stage lasts longer than I think it will. (She's already trying to pull up...)

Oy, With the Poodles Already

Halloween was always fun growing up. My sister and I wore matching costumes, almost always a Disney princess. We trick or treated with our friends, taking turns hosting each year so we could try different neighborhoods. We painted our front window, carved pumpkins, made ghost cookies, and ate way too much candy. It was awesome.

In college and a few years after, it was an excuse for parties with trash cans full of unidentified punch and scantily clad costumes often involving thigh highs.

Fast forward a few years and our experience is slightly different with a little one. I made the infamous ghost cookies (even though Husband and I ate most of them). And C helped me clean out pumpkins for carving, experiencing the gooey fun for the very first time.

And we were charged with finding the perfect first costume for our little trick or treater. I think we nailed it.

Our pink poodle!

Cousin Abigail loves baby Catherine!

We spent the evening with cousin Abigail and Aunt Beth and Uncle Clay. Their neighborhood was perfect for trick or treating and C loved the view from her stroller of kids running all over the place. She was a trooper and was wide awake in her snuggly poodle costume well past her bed time. We had such a good time and cannot wait for next year. I think trick or treating with sweet Abigail might just become a tradition. Holidays are so much more fun with tiny people!

And just for fun, look at what sweet Abigail was for her first Halloween four years ago:

Great minds think alike :)

Fun Fall Festivities

Fall is my all time favorite time of year. The air is crisp, the trees are beautiful, everything is made with pumpkin. Somehow, the world smells like cinnamon. What's not to love? 

Well, this year, C gave us an excuse for even more fun. Everything is better when you get to share the experience with a little one. In the past few weeks, we have ventured to the Fall Festival in Mount Laurel, to Railroad Park for a stroll and C's first park swing, to the zoo for the first time, and to Old Baker's Farm to visit the pumpkin patch. We've been busy, but wouldn't have it any other way.

The Fall Festival was more of a craft fair with a bouncy house, but it was a beautiful day and there were dogs everywhere, so C was perfectly happy.

She's looking at a puppy

The day was young, so we headed to Railroad Park to hang out with Aunt Mallory and Uncle Pete. We tried the park swing for the first time. She liked it, but she much preferred to watch all the other kids run around on the playground. She certainly was cute though!

The next weekend brought on the zoo! I have been dying to take C to the zoo. She lights up around dogs and I just knew she would love other animals too. Aunt Mallory joined us for a girls day and it was perfect. And, I was right. C had a blast!

An attempt at getting a shot of her with her giraffe by the giraffes

Mommy making pig noises

The petting zoo was by far our favorite. The goats ran to the gate and thrust their heads out for us to pet them and the pig snorted, sending C into a fit of giggles. What a fun day! We will be back. Very soon.

The next day, we ventured over to Harpersville to Old Baker's Farm to pick a pumpkin. CiCi and Poppa met us there for some good old fashioned small town fun. I had actually never been to a pumpkin patch before, so I was really excited to not only experience it for the first time, but to get to share it with my sweet girl.

Fun with CiCi in the barn (in the beautiful smocked dress she made for me)!

Discovering cotton

nap time

On the hay ride with CiCi and Poppa!

What a fun day!

It was a wonderful day and a nice reminder of life's simple joys. After a day of barbecue, coke, fried pie, livestock, cotton, corn stalks, and hayrides, we drove home with four pumpkins, a sleeping baby, and a new family tradition. It just doesn't get better than that.

On the Move

8 Months Old

Seriously? Is my baby girl really 8 months old already? I'm shocked. It really seems like only yesterday she was in the NICU. It's amazing how much can change in eight months. Amazing how a 5 pound, 2 ounces preemie has gone from her little NICU incubator of UV light and  monitors to a beautiful, happy, wiggly, giggly, busy eight month old. 

Just looking at the pictures from the hospital today made me catch my breath. I honestly can't remember all of the details following her birth. The days and hours and minutes blend together in my memory. But I remember the immense pride I felt when I got to see her for the first time. I remember tears rolling down my cheeks when I finally got to hold her in my arms. She was no bigger than Husband's hand. So tiny. So fragile, yet so strong. I knew that day that she was a fighter. She was driven. She was going to make it into this world no matter what.

Well today, she is certainly strong. Certainly driven. At eight months old, she is sitting up so tall. She is easily moving and scooting all over the place. While she isn't officially crawling yet, she will not be slowed. She is everywhere and into everything and we are quickly embarking on baby proofing territory. She can no longer be constrained by her swing. We  have sadly dissembled one of her first favorite things and packed it away until another little one graces our household.

She loves to be outside. She loves people, especially other children, and is always a smiley, giggly girl in public. She still loves her furry friend Banks. She plays with her tiny piano and her stacking rings daily, among (many) other things, and loves a singing green frog that her cousin Lydia loaned her. She's learning to entertain herself but still very much prefers for you to be there and has no problem letting you know how she feels. There are still days where she wants to be held the majority of the time, but I cherish it. I know days like these are fleeting.

She's eating like a big girl, devouring nearly everything I've made for her. Her current favorite vegetables are butternut squash and peas. She is not a huge fan of mashed potatoes, but will tolerate them. She doesn't love most fruit, but loves raspberry and roasted banana puree and newly, blueberry yogurt. Overall, she is easy to please in the food department. I'm hoping it stays that way!

She is so much fun. She babbles all day long, sometimes to me, sometimes to herself. She laughs and smiles constantly and it is such a joy to spend my days with her. I cannot wait to see what the next months (and years) bring because I can't imagine it being any more fun than it is right now.

Happy 8 months, my little love.

Bubble Wrap Suit

I've decided I'm inventing a suit made entirely of bubble wrap for C to wear while she learns this whole crawling thing.

It's either that or I'm lining the whole house with pillows.

Hard wood floors are not baby proof.

 

No Solicitation Here

Motherhood comes with a lot of unsolicited advice. It starts the moment you tell people you are pregnant. People suddenly feel the need to remind you that you can't drink or eat sushi or ride a wave runner or jump on a trampoline (seriously, nine months without a trampoline is just too much to ask...). 

Then, as soon as your belly protrudes enough that you have obviously not just eaten a large lunch, complete strangers join in. A server at a restaurant asked me to turn around when I was only 18 weeks pregnant because she said she had a gift of predicting the baby's sex from my body shape from behind. Not kidding. A few weeks before I had C, a woman behind me in the Target check out line told me I must be having a girl because she looked like me when she was pregnant with her daughter. Random people at the grocery store would comment on the food in my cart. One of the managers of a band I had booked at my job proceeded to discuss how important breast feeding was and asked me if I planned on doing so. And one of my favorites: while buying (an obscene amount of) beer and wine at Costco for our Christmas party, the check out lady actually asked, "this isn't for you, is it?" I only wished at that moment that I was buying a carton of cigarettes as well.

My point is, even before there is a baby, there is much much advice on how said baby should be raised. But once the baby is actually here, it only gets worse. Should she sleep on her back or stomach? Breastfeed or formula? When to introduce solids? Rice cereal in the bottle? Homemade food or not? Organic or not? Soy or dairy? Stroller or sling? Cradle vs. crib vs. family bed? Pacis? Tv? Daycare vs. stay at home? To sleep train or not to sleep train? O.M.G. It is exhausting.

Card my parents sent shortly after C was born

As if raising a tiny human were not stressful enough, you begin to consider all of this unsolicited advice and second guess your instincts because quite frankly, you're exhausted and pretty sure your brain's deductive reasoning skills shut down months ago.  I guess I open myself up to it as I throw a blog about my parenting decisions out into cyberspace for all to judge enjoy. And as in most circumstances, some advice is helpful and others not so much. But it's what you do with the advice that's important. It's about learning to take all the books and articles and advice from family, friends, and complete strangers, lump it all together, and go with your mommy gut (not to be confused with the 6 pounds that linger at the midsection). 


I have really been struggling with C's sleeping situation. It seemed I was fighting a losing battle. I felt like I was somehow failing as a mom and my lack of sleep was wearing on me physically and emotionally. And even though I knew that sleep training could end all of it, my gut just wouldn't let me do it all. My heart couldn't take letting her "cry it out." I have nothing against those who have gone before me and conquered. If anything, I am impressed. Sleep training is not for the weak. Instead, I took a few notes from the method (earlier bed time, routine naps, using sleep cues) and added in a few theories of my own. And, as I type this, we are on the third night of a normal 11-12 hour sleep stretch. Who knows if it will stick, but I have to give myself a little pat on the back on this one. I am so proud of my sweet girl for learning to soothe herself back to sleep; and I am so proud of myself for helping her do so without feeling like I was abandoning her. Maybe one day I will be able to sleep though the night without sneaking into her room to make sure she is still breathing.

Motherhood is no joke. It is wonderful, all encompassing, challenging, frustrating, amazing, exhausting, and so much fun, all at the same time. But, if you can't cut yourself a little slack and trust your own instincts (and vent to your other mommy girlfriends once in a while), you will absolutely lose it. Of this I am certain.


Goodnight.

Vanishing Act

You know when you were finally old enough to realize that a magician wasn't actually magic? When you finally realized that his vanishing act was merely a trick. A false floor, a burst of smoke, a distraction. Well, C's hemangioma is performing a vanishing act of its own... no strings attached. No tricks. 


C had a follow up appointment with her dermatologist yesterday. Since we were denied by insurance for laser surgery, we have opted to stick with other treatments. The thought of putting our baby girl through surgery for something that is now strictly cosmetic was more than Husband and I could handle. 


We are still using propranalol (blood pressure medication) thrice daily and applying clobetasol (steroid cream) at night for two weeks on and one week off. Dr. Theos was pleased with how they have been working. C's hemangioma is obviously much smaller in diameter, less raised, and less red. Just the difference from two months ago is amazing:

8-10-11 : 10-12-11

We were also thrilled to hear that we are on the tail end of all of this. Infantile hemangioma's like C's typically begin to decrease in size after six months of age and almost never increase after the first year. It's comforting to know that while it may still be there, it's going away.


Nothing could have prepared me for what would happen in the first couple months of her life. Being told that "it will get bigger" did not prepare me for the dark red, raised bump on my child's forehead, nor did it bring me ease when I thought it couldn't possibly get worse. But, to know that the treatments are working, and that in a year, there may be no sign of it at all, is freeing. Modern medicine is a wonderful thing.

Day 1 of treatment : After 5 months treatment

Now that C weighs a little more (16 pounds, 4 ounces as of yesterday), we were able to increase her dosage of propranalol. The propranalol is precautionary, just in case the hemangioma is still trying to grow. After her first birthday, we will taper it off completely. We are also beginning to taper off of the clobetasol. Instead of two consecutive weeks on and one off, we will only apply it every other night during the two weeks, then every third night, etc, until we are finished completely. I can't believe that one day very soon our daughter will no longer be on a daily regimen of medications!


It's hard to believe that in a few years or even months, this birth mark will vanish. Really vanish. It will not be concealed by a myriad of accessories. It will actually be gone. Forgotten. And as our beautiful daughter glances in the mirror, she will not see a scar from an unnecessary surgery. She will just see the beautiful olive complexion her Daddy gave her.