Can I have some?

welcome to my blog.

a place to post. a place to eat oreos. a place to vent. a place to heal.

i started this blog so i could use a different outlet besides munching on fattening oreos. as if that has done any good... *mind wanders to oreo package in the house...*

then i realized that oreos can be semi symbolic. if you are are that crazy about oreos that is. which... i am.

eating oreos is therapeutic for me. when i am struggling or when i need a pick me up. they have chocolate. and sugar. both of which help lift my mood. not to mention that i eat them soaked with milk, which is my miracle drink.

i post my posts to not only get stuff out. there may be people who read my blog who have been in the same kind of situations as i have. i hope reading them and knowing that others have gone through things like i have, will be to you what eating oreos does to me.

and yes. i didn't capitalize anything in here. i just felt like it. deal with it.

munch up.

Monday, July 25, 2016

Rainbow Baby

Friends and family should know by now that I have a new little one. After he (yes another he - and he snorts a LOT so we shall call him Snort) was born I learned of the term "rainbow baby." For those who don't know what that means, I guess it's the name for babies born after infant loss. "Rainbow" because I guess the whole idea that rainbows come after a storm. Hope after loss. Whether that's miscarriage or infant death, the term still applies. With that knowledge, I've now had two rainbow babies.

I don't really remember feeling too anxious when Goof Ball was born and the subsequent year of his life (when SIDS finally loses its hold on little ones). I may have been, but nothing stands out so much that I remember it. I don't really know why I wasn't anxious. One would think I'd be so anxious that I would worry about having another baby at all considering he was the baby right after Little Angel died.

But this post isn't really about that. It's about my second rainbow baby - Snort. First off, I wasn't prepared for Snort's birth at all. He came three weeks early. Which is still within the healthy range for babies to be born, but super early for me. After three births, all of them within a week of the due date, I just didn't expect for my doctor to tell me to take it easy (aka, no more Shorinji Kempo) on my 37 week appointment and to come back the next day to get my cervix checked again. Snort was born on that "next day." And even though his gestational age was 37 weeks and 1 day, he was 8 lbs and 13 oz. Thank goodness he came early, I say. And when I say I wasn't prepared for him to come, I mean we had to go to the store between my cervix check appointment (9:00 am) and when we went into the hospital (noon - thankfully the doctor let me have a smallish meal before we went in) to get a car seat, because we hadn't even had that yet. Thankfully I had the warning from my 37 week appointment to have time to pack my bag, because that hadn't even been done yet. I just simply wasn't ready. I expected him to be closer to his due date like his brothers had been.

Second off, I haven't really been too nervous about him. Occasionally when he's sleeping, I'll look over and check to see if he's still breathing, but I haven't been anxious about it. It's like it's on my mind, but not something that I'm so worried about that I've really been stressing about it.

However, a few days ago I had my first real panic attack with Snort. One morning I woke up without having woken the whole night except for the times when I woke up only to roll over. I checked the clock and saw that it was around 7:30. I realized that we had wanted to wake up somewhat early so Pro Boxer (we shall now change his name to Rapper - because of a job change - but still at the same place) could get yard and garage stuff done before it got too hot. The second thing I realized was that Snort hadn't woken up the whole night. I had just finished waking Rapper up and was looking at him when my eyes grew wide and I jumped out of bed and rushed to where Snort slept. He was fine (and is still fine), but in those few seconds, he was dead to me. I went back to the bedroom and with a little laugh (strange how that's often the reaction to the sudden release of extreme stress) said, "Well, he's alive."

Rapper looked at me like I was crazy. It was only then that he told me that Snort had woken up in the middle of the night and Rapper had gotten up and fed him and went back in bed. Normally I notice when Rapper leaves the room, but that time I hadn't woken up once. Never noticed he wasn't in bed, or that he closed the door, or crawled back in bed.

Despite the full night's sleep, that day was pretty rough for me. Partially because of the emotional drama I had in the beginning of the day, and party because it was a very full day of cleaning and other various busy things. Thankfully I finished the day off making cookies with good friends, and that helped lift my mood. I've since reverted to my occasional checking on Snort while he sleeps, without the emotional drain. I'm grateful that I was able to have another rainbow baby, and I hope that I'll continue to be blessed to have him in my life.