Baby Weight and "Mom Jeans"

As new moms, our first obstacles tend to be sleep deprivation and those pesky stretch marks that multiplied after delivery. We don't tend to think about the baby weight until our first postpartum appointment when we timidly step back on the scale, only to find out we're holding onto an extra 15-20 pounds. Then, we go into crazy health mode. For about three days, when life and exhaustion creeps up on us.

We've all heard the saying, "it took nine months to put it on, it should take nine months to lose it." While that may be true for some, it isn't for most. Some women have fast metabolisms, some lose weight with breast feeding, some workout. Then there are those like me, with a slow metabolism, who didn't lose weight with breast feeding/pumping, and who don't have the time or energy to workout with the long day they have to deal with already.

Even though my pregnancy was cut short, I gained more than the average woman because of how sick I was. By the time I delivered, I had gained almost 50 pounds. There followed months of mental and physical recovery, taking it easy, resting, watching my blood pressure, etc. All with the stress of having a preemie in the NICU, and struggling to pump and take care of us both after he came home. Some days, all I could manage was string cheese and a bottle of water.

Now, 14 months later, I'm still hanging on to a few extra pounds, and my skin hasn't completely gone back. I'm not back in my pre-pregnancy jeans and that's okay. I've made the conscious decision to make better choices and exercise each and everyday, even if its just for a couple minutes. I still try to dress like I used to though. Just because I wear a bigger size doesn't mean I have to feel like an alien in my own skin. I own mom jeans, but NEWS FLASH!! Everyone does! Before pregnancy we just called them "fat jeans" or "period pants." Its not something to be ashamed of at all! Some days you just have to pull out those bad boys and embrace them for what they are, a saving grace when you can barely manage to brush your hair.

Bottom line, nobody expects you to lose all that weight and look exactly like you did before, the very next day, so neither should you. Go ahead and set a goal, but understand that life tends to get in the way of everything, especially when you least want it to. Big hips are better for carrying babies, so are bellies that still protrude a little. You aren't any less attractive than you were before. You probably struggled to get past those six weeks post delivery without pouncing on your hubby and vice versa. I wouldn't call that person unattractive.

Everyone has things about themselves they wish they could change, having had a baby or not. The important thing is to remember that with hard work and determination you can look exactly how you want to, but it'll never happen over night. Don't be afraid of numbers, go by how you feel. If you feel better after working out and eating healthy the day before, than do it again because you feel good, not because you lost a quarter of a pound. Cheat days are okay, we all have weaknesses. Don't feel too guilty about it, and if your whole diet goes out the window when you're pmsing, whoop-de-doo, just get yourself back on track after.

A confident woman is a beautiful woman.

Caiden on our daily walk around the neighborhood.

A Year Later

I meant to post on Caiden's actual birthday, but with his big day and planning for his party, it totally slipped my mind! He's a year old already!! Crazy how the last year has flown by, it's been an amazing learning experience for me. It's shown me what's really important in my life and to never take a single second for granted. He has taught me that its not about receiving love, it's about loving with your whole heart and never expecting anything in return. It's about the lessons you take away from the bad days and the smiles you share on the good.

His life began in a cloud of pain and confusion. For weeks we battled fear and hope, and now there is only promise. It can be so easy to forget he's a preemie sometimes, especially since he's wearing 18-24 months at only a year, but I will always see the skin and bones baby he started at beneath all his chub. I am so thankful I have him to annoy me and make me laugh everyday. He has filled my heart with so much joy and I couldn't picture a life without him.

Today, he is roughly 22lbs and 33in. A far cry from the 3lbs 8.4oz and 16 1/2in he was born at. He is a happy and rambunctious little boy, and the toughest guy I know. He can roll over, sit on his own, crawl, hold his own bottle/sippy cup, pull up onto his knees, clap, high five, and has a wonderful vocabulary. It's hard to believe it was just a year ago that he turned our lives upside down, backwards, and around a corner, but its been one hell of a year and I wouldn't change a second of it.

Another Door Closes

When I was admitted to the hospital to have Caiden last June, I admittedly didn't know much about preeclampsia or HELLP Syndrome. All I knew was my blood pressure was up and my liver was failing. My focus was on Caiden, not my own health. Then almost two months later, I was diagnosed with a clotting disorder. Earlier this month I was doing some research about it for another woman who had HELLP with her pregnancy and possibly MTHFR, the same clotting disorder I have. I stumbled on some information I hadn't seen before. I'd researched a lot about MTHFR but hadn't thought to look for anything about HELLP. I was told my clotting disorder caused it, that's all I knew and all I thought I needed to know..

From what I understand about HELLP, while pregnant, your body can throw clots and your blood cells are damaged while trying to push past them. Platelets go to their rescue to help repair them which lowers your platelet count. Your liver starts to die, releasing enzymes, due to the lack of oxygen provided to it because of the clots. Thus if you are predisposed to blood clots, your risk for developing HELLP is significantly greater.

It's amazing how intertwined the two are. I luckily don't have any lasting health issues due to HELLP or Pre-e. My blood pressure is stable and in the normal range and I haven't had any weird symptoms- which makes sense since HELLP is supposed to go away after delivery. Other than knowing I have a clotting disorder and having to take a baby asprin daily, outside of Caiden's birth and my miscarriage, it doesn't play an active role in my life. Its easy to forget I even have it. I'm glad that after going so long with as many questions as I've had that there are finally concrete answers. It's a wonderful feeling to finally be able to close the door completely on our birth experience. No more questions, no more fears, no more guilt, just understanding. 

Caiden is going to be a year old next month and everyday he moves forward, a smile on his face and not a care in the world. I can only strive to do the same, encouraging him with love and strength. 

A Woman Becomes a Mother

Today as I sit and watch my son play with his toys and repeat "mum" over and over again, it reminds me how lucky I am to have him here with me on Mother's Day and every day. So many aren't able to hold their children today and it reminds me to be thankful of what I do have. Today my heart goes out to the mothers sitting in the NICU with their preemie, the mothers grieving a miscarriage, a stillborn, the loss of their infant/toddler, or young child, teenager, an adult child or their own mother. 

Becoming a mother was never on my "to do" list, or my career list, or any other list I could have created. But today that is exactly what I am. I am proud of the journey we've been through thus far. It has been an amazing roller coaster but I wouldn't change a second of it.

I thought our lives were ending when Caiden came early, but I didn't know how strong it would make me. How it would change not only my life but my perspective. 

It taught me that a woman does not become a mother when she gets pregnant. She does not become a mother when she hits "full term" or when she births her child. She does not become a mother when her baby cries the first time. She does not become a mother because she breastfeeds, or co-sleeps or even brings her baby home.

A woman becomes a mother when she puts her child before herself. She becomes a mother during countless sleepless nights. She becomes a mother when she smiles and says I love you, never expecting it in return or to be heard. She becomes a mother when her child fills her thoughts. She becomes a mother when she realizes she's not only created life but an innocent child's soul, when her heart flutters because another beats. She becomes a mother when her world is repeatedly turned upside down, sideways, backwards and yet not always right again. She becomes a mother when she has felt happiness, sadness, grief, strength, humbleness, joy, fear.. all due to her child. 

No mother can fail because no mother completely succeeds. Our children, be they days, weeks, months or years old, living or deceased, make us who we are. The best gift Caiden has and will ever give me is the gift of motherhood. 

Happy Mother's Day to those who have tiny hands to hold, and to those who hold them in their memory. 

What You Didn't Know

I post a lot about how far Caiden has come since his premature birth and how lucky we are but I don't think I've mentioned exactly how amazing it is that he's here with us.

I had been in pain for three days prior to going into the hospital. I had gone in some weeks before with the same symptoms and been sent home so I was prepared to grind my teeth through it this time. When I was unable to stand, sit, or lay without being in pain I decided it was worth being sent home to make sure there was nothing wrong. I was not prepared for what followed. I was transferred from my admitting hospital to one a half hour away for the NICU. I had never been in an ambulance before. The ems sitting in the back with me was an older man with white hair, he held my hand the entire way and told me about his family and asked questions about mine. I had cried the whole hour before, and he knew it. He told me not to be afraid, his son had been born early too and was thriving. As long as I was strong my baby would be okay, I had to be positive.

I never got that mans name, if he told me I don't remember. He is the reason I was able to be calm the remainder of my labor. Neither one of us knew how sick I was, but he changed my outlook from fearful to hopeful. I wish I could find him and say thank you, he made a huge impact on my life. As he was leaving, he gave me a small hug and wished me good luck.

I had severe preeclampsia and class I (severe) HELLP Syndrome, two things I had never heard of going into the hospital. My platelet count was in the lowest range, my blood pressure put me at risk of seizures, my liver was starting to fail and the doctors were worried about other organs following it. My blood pressure was stabilized but still very high my entire delivery and my count kept dropping. There are two pictures of me during labor/delivery and I was unrecognizable due to swelling.

Every four hours my blood was being taken to monitor my liver enzymes and platelet count. With HELLP syndrome, the lower your platelet count goes, the higher risk you are to have bleeding issues after delivery. Many HELLP deliveries end with blood transfusions. Luckily mine did not. However my platelets were so low that I wasn't allowed to have an epi (I didn't want one anyways) and the doctors were afraid to do a c-section.

HELLP Syndrome is a silent killer, a rare killer, but one none the less. It is estimated that as many as 48,000 pregnant women in the US will develop HELLP each year. A seemingly small number until you find out that it can have the same symptoms as preeclampsia, gall bladder disease, the flu, etc. and many doctors have never heard of it. It cannot be prevented, is only diagnosed with a blood test, can occur after delivery, is absolved by delivery and doesn't always occur alongside preeclampisa.

Had I gone into the hospital with only preeclampsia I would have been put on magnesium and bed rest to buy at least a few more days for Caiden. But due to having HELLP and how severe it was, he needed to be delivered right away. Luckily he was head down when I was admitted so I was allowed to try for a vaginal delivery, if anything went wrong I was told I would be rushed immediately to surgery. The doctors were hoping for the best. I didn't know how to read the monitors keeping track of my contractions and his heart rate, but I was later told that with each contraction Caiden's heart rate would dip, they didn't know the cord was wrapped around his neck four times. I still don't know why they didn't take me for a c-section then. Fetal distress usually, if not always warrants one.

At one point when I asked the nurse taking my blood why it was necessary to do so frequently, he said, "we're just keeping an extra close eye, we want you to be able to meet your baby." It scared the hell out of me. I thought I was on the brink of death but I didn't have time to focus on me. I still had two months until Caiden's due date.

When you're told your baby is going to be delivered months before they're ready, its a total out of body experience. You prepare for your child's death. There's no way they could survive so early and so small. Even after their first cry and the first time you hold them, you still anticipate it. You have no expectation of bringing them home, you can't afford a hope. But then you do, its not until months after discharge that you can finally catch your breath. Their prematurity wasn't a death sentence. It was a chance for you, their parent, to grow and learn, to become strong in your heart, mind and soul.
Nearly a year later and I still wake up in the middle of the night to ensure he's still breathing.

Living through the diagnosis of HELLP and having a child born premature has taught me three things:

1) You can never prepare for everything.

I thought I knew everything I needed to know about pregnancy. I had my entire labor planned and the second I walked into the hospital it all went out the window. I never anticipated complications because I had never heard of what could go wrong. I knew about stillbirths and miscarriages, but that could never happen to me.

Along with raising prematurity awareness, I strongly believe there should be a campaign to raise awareness about the complications you might not have heard of. I am always telling Caiden's story, he's not just a preemie, he's a HELLP baby, a survivor. Had I not put my pride aside and gone into the hospital that morning, I could have stroked and/or my liver could have failed. We could have been dead long before we ever knew what if anything was wrong.

2) Gaining a few pounds and a couple stretch marks or being peed/spit up on by a baby are not the worst things that can happen to you when you sign up for motherhood.

Sometimes I have to remind myself this when Caiden is being particularly difficult. He could have died, I could have died. He could have been born with a disorder or even earlier. He very well could have been in the NICU longer. But none of that happened. I agreed to let my body change to protect him and let him grow the moment he was conceived. I will never be the same because of him, and that's not a bad thing.

3) Don't take a single day, a single moment for granted.

A child will only be so little once. They're going to grow and become independent. They're going to be both annoying and cute. Soon they won't want to be snuggled or tolerate "This Little Piggy." I want Caiden to grow up knowing where he started, I hope as he ages the significance of his birth is not lost on him. He turned me into a fighter, a survivor, an advocate, and a mother.

10 Months!

Wow. What a week! Caiden is ten months old (as of yesterday)! I can't believe there's only two more months until his birthday! Time really does fly by. In the past week he's nearly mastered sitting on his own (he was a little late on that one- I'm blaming his still top-heavy preemie head), gotten his first top tooth, is cutting three more, and has started rocking and pushing himself forward trying to crawl. Its amazing the amount of progress he's made!

Today Caiden had a regular check up. He weighed in at a whopping 21lbs even! Thats over five times his birth weight, and in the 55th percentile without adjusting for his age. He's 31in tall, in the 98th percentile! He's going to be a very tall man one day!

I'm so excited for June, I've decided to do a nautical theme for his birthday, he has a little baby tie with sailboats on it that I am totally in love with. Since I don't have any close friends with kids, its just going to be a small party for family but I'm sure it'll be great. We can go overboard when he's older. I'm making sugar and dye free smash cupcakes for him. I know its fun to let them destroy brightly colored cake, but I don't want to clean up a sticky blue one year old or try to get a sugar high munchkin to go to sleep. We can enjoy it without all that. I'm a little apprehensive of giving him things like that anyways.


On another note, one of my best friends is pregnant! She's such a wonderful person and deserves her little miracle more than anyone I know. Its really bittersweet for me. I get to watch her go through her pregnancy (granted we live halfway across the country) and have the experience of birthing a healthy full term baby. I can't wait for her to tell me she's gone into labor and see her take home her little one.

Its amazing to see something that once made me the happiest I've ever been, change another person in such a fundamental way. Had I not miscarried in December, I would still (probably) be pregnant right now. I try not to think about it, but I often wish I had a big round baby belly despite the risks to my health. It would have been wonderful to have gone through it together, to have done something differently.

But, I have a wonderful son who proves that we can never take anything for granted. I would rather be here to raise him than die trying to have another child. I was so prepared to have eight more weeks of pregnancy ahead of me that I missed out on a lot of things I wish I hadn't. There is not a single picture of my husband and I together while I was pregnant.

I hear a lot that I should be thankful, that the last weeks of pregnancy are miserable, that I got two extra months with my baby. But it doesn't make it better. Fifty-six hours of labor was miserable, as was 25 days of watching him from a distance. Only seeing him grow lessens the pain I still feel. He's done amazing since birth, and continues to defy doctors expectations of him. He hasn't caught up to babies his age yet, but he will, and he has all the time in the world.

Ten years from now, it won't matter at what age he learned to sit, crawl, walk or talk. What will matter is that he did learn and continues to each and every day. He always has a smile and to him, it doesn't matter that he had a rough start, he won't remember, all that matters is that he's alive and happy.

Remembrance

As Caiden's first birthday is fast approaching I find myself thinking back to his delivery and time in the NICU. Its hard not to think about how his story began as we approach the anniversary of his surprise arrival. He's come so far in such a short period of time, I can't imagine being more proud of him.

I remember the day I went into the hospital, I was prepared to be sent home like every other time. I wish I had taken one more picture of my belly before laying down in that bed. I had no idea I wouldn't be allowed to move the next three days. I remember before the doctors started an IV I asked if I could get up and walk around for a minute. I didn't really understand what was wrong with me.

I remember calling my mom and bawling as I told her I was probably going to have a c-section and begging her to fly down as soon as she could. I remember crying as the nurses dug around my veins trying to put an IV in both my hands failing to numb one and then finally putting it in my wrist. I remember watching my husband walk in, still in his work uniform and the scared look on his face as I repeated "I'm sorry" over and over again. All the conversations we had about viability and promising the likelihood of an early delivery happening to us was slim, turned into lies.

I don't remember much of my labor. I do remember as I was getting ready to push the nurse told me not to, I was supposed to wait but I didn't have a choice.
I remember kicking the doctor in the stomach who was there to catch him.
I remember dozens of people walk in as I was pushing, waiting to evaluate what was wrong with my child.
I remember him crying and how happy I was to hear that wonderful sound. I relaxed and for a moment, for the first time since being told I was having him early, I felt at peace.
I don't remember him being held up by my face so I could see him though.

The first 24 hours after his birth went by slowly. I was torn between resting and wishing I was allowed to get up and go see him. I was refusing pain meds, I didn't hurt. I didn't understand why they wouldn't let me out of bed.

The first time I was allowed to go see him I was insanely nervous. I didn't know what I was going to see. I didn't know how small he was or if the steroids had been given enough time. As I was wheeled out of my room, and down a maze of hallways we passed two nurseries. I remember smiling at the sleeping babies and wishing my son was in there, chubby and healthy, just waiting to be brought back to me. I remember how lost I was going through the hallways. I had never been in the hospital, I didn't know where anything was, I didn't know what the inside of a NICU looked like.

As we rounded the final corner we approached a large set of double doors with a corded phone on the wall. I remember my mom who had been already telling me I had to let them know who I was. The doors stayed locked and shut at all times. We were buzzed through and I saw the hand washing station for the first time. It was automated and hands free. I was amazed at the setup. We passed through another set of double doors.

It was a large room divided into sections by walls and curtains. It was dark yet warm and monitors could be heard beeping. I knew my son was in that room somewhere but I didn't know where. I wanted to run to him. We turned another corner and there was a raised glass table with a blue light shining on it. The smallest baby I had ever seen was laying on the table on its belly, completely naked except for a diaper, hat, foam block out glasses and tons of wires attached to him.

I remember the nurse smiling at me and saying "so you must be mommy," it was the first time someone had used that term in reference to me. It seemed alien to me, I certainly didn't feel like a "mommy." I stood up and met my son. I remember feeling an overwhelming urge to cry and tried my hardest not to. The smallest baby I had ever seen was my son. Sleeping, unaware I was there next to him. I just stood there for a minute, I had a hard time believing that was my son. The nurse said something I will never forget. She looked at him and noticing my hesitation, she said "you can touch him."

I never thought I would need permission to touch my own child but those words were the sweetest words I'd ever heard. After being told no at everything the past few days it was amazing to be granted permission for something, especially an act so important.

I remember regretting sitting back down in the wheel chair and having to go back to my room for meds and rest. I never wanted to leave his side. The trip to and from the NICU would become routine in no time. We started parking in the same spot. The receptionist knew us by name and was excited when we finally left. Caiden's doctor knew what time to expect us and would stop by every day to give us an update personally.

I remember his doctor better than I remember the nurses. Dr. Craig Anderson. He is an amazing man. He was there whenever we needed him, he encouraged me to pump and breastfeed, he made it possible for Caiden to go home ahead of schedule. He was excited to see him again when we went back a month later to pick up my extra milk. I can't wait to see him again someday and say thank you. I never got the chance to say goodbye and thank him for all he did for us. Caiden may have done well on his own but I believe that man saved his life.

I may not have the best memory, but I remember what's important. I'm glad Caiden won't have any memory of his time in the NICU. I'm glad he'll grow up knowing he did something amazing as a baby. He survived. And each year on his birthday we will celebrate his life, not mourn the time we lost. Each year we will celebrate how far he's come. Each year we will move one step closer to normality and one step further from premature.

Is Breast Always Best?

The day of Caiden's birth the last thing on my mind was what my child would be eating. I was exhausted after 56 hours of induced labor and my baby had been whisked away to the NICU in some unknown part of the hospital before I'd even gotten the chance to touch him. The only thing on my mind was if he was going to be okay, I didn't think twice about my own health.

The night of the day of his birth I still wasn't allowed to go see my son. My husband visited him and brought me back pictures and the news that Caiden's doctor wanted me to start pumping. During my pregnancy I had absolutely no intention of breastfeeding. It wasn't something that appealed to me. It wasn't something that I felt I had to do. It was a choice I made with absolutely no knowledge of what the future would bring.

I was in the hospital a total of six days. The morning of the 4th day, the day after his birth, the day I would finally be able to go see him, a lactation consultant came to my room. She explained that Caiden's doctor really pushed for all moms to breastfeed. Due to his prematurity it was the best gift I could give him. So, she fitted me for a pump, explained how to use it and left as quickly as she'd come.

I was nervous, but I did it anyway.

My first trip to the NICU I carried with me two full bottles of pumped milk (colostrum). I was proud of myself. I had done something I never thought I would do and I had an amazingly strong supply. My son would not be going hungry. I wouldn't have to buy formula.

As the days wore on pumping became a habit. Every three hours on the dot I turned on my pump and watched as liquid gold filled up the bottles. For something that seemed so unimportant in the beginning it soon consumed me. I worried about how much I was producing, why one side did better than the other, would he be able to breastfeed.. His doctor and nurses were ecstatic over my supply. So many moms struggle, especially pumping to produce enough, and I could have fed every baby in that NICU.

About a week before his discharge we tried breastfeeding. He was pretty good at it, but needed the help of a nipple shield. Not a big deal I was told, most preemies needed one and could outgrow it. I didn't love the experience. It was hard to position his tiny body against mine and frustrating that while I was feeding him on one side, the other was leaking all over me.

Eventually though he was cleared for discharge and we were sent home to do things on our own. I was as equally excited as I was nervous. Once we got home Caiden's interest in breastfeeding quickly dwindled. We had to supplement with a high calorie formula twice a day to help him gain weight quickly, so we had no choice but to give him bottles. It made teaching him very difficult. Eventually after a few weeks of struggling, lots of screaming and crying I gave up and started exclusively pumping again. He would still be getting my breastmilk, just not directly from me.

I loathed pumping. Every three hours I had to thaw milk, feed and change Caiden, pump, package and freeze it. The entire process took about an hour sometimes longer. Often at night I would wake and by the time I was done I only had an hour until I would have to wake up and do it all again. It was exhausting and uncomfortable. Where breastfeeding mothers can change positions and feed laying down, often sleeping through their child eating, I could only pump in one position: sitting up, awake and uncomfortable. As many times as I tried I was never able to feed Caiden and pump at the same time.

I carried on like this for 6 1/2 months before realizing I couldn't do it any longer. I was extremely fatigued and my once amazing supply was dwindling. I had gotten in the mindset that I had plenty stored, it wasn't going to hurt if I pushed back a pump session an hour. An hour became two and then three and eventually I just stopped caring whether or not I pumped. I wasn't being the best mother I could be to my son because I was tied to my pump five hours a day. There were too many times I sat with him in a bouncy chair next to me while I pumped, unable to hold him or play with him or help him along with his development. I couldn't take it.

After I stopped pumping I was dramatically happier. I had more patience, was getting more sleep, and had more time to spend with my son. I didn't regret quitting. The difference was night and day.

It would only be a few months though until I started to regret it.

It took me a while before I understood exactly why I regretted stopping. There's so much pressure to do what's best and right. "Breast is best" and "formula is evil". I feel that the "breast is best" campaign is a dig at the teenage girls who don't try to breastfeed and go straight to WIC for formula. While I'm not saying I support that or not, it is a huge insult to those of us who struggled to breastfeed.

I admit I gave up pumping, I could have gone longer but for my sanity I had to quit. We never managed to breastfeed the "right" way but that doesn't make me a bad mother. Circumstances stacked the odds against us and in favor of other mothers. My son had to be on a high calorie formula to gain weight. That doesn't make me a bad mother. It was a necessity. The time he was on it, I had more than enough milk to make up those feeds, but he needed the added calories my milk didn't have. That formula isn't evil, it helps an untold number of babies who struggle with low body weight.

I started thinking that if it wasn't for the doctors and medicine around today, my son and I wouldn't be here. If it weren't for pumps and formula he wouldn't be alive. Formula is a saving grace for all the mothers out there who tried but didn't have it in their cards to be able to breastfeed for 3 months, 6 months, a year.. Think of all the children who wouldn't be alive without formula because their mother had a low supply, or a health condition that made it near impossible, or a premature child who's head was smaller than its mothers breast. I don't think a woman can be unsuccessful at breastfeeding as long as she tries. If she's given her child even a milliliter of breastmilk she's done something amazing.

Every mother should be proud of what they've accomplished. We should congratulate each other on trying when so many can't make it to their goal, not insult and brag when we may not know the story behind why they give their child formula. A fed baby is a happy baby.

The Aftermath

(**Authors note: towards the end I talk about infant death, if this subject is a touchy one for you, I advise skipping this post as it may be a possible trigger. I do not wish to upset anyone with this post. Thank you for reading, as always.**)


The average loaf of bread weighs about a pound and a quarter.

Imagine holding three loaves of bread. Not too heavy, right? They're not going to weigh you down hardly any. You might buy so many on a large trip to the grocery store.

Now, imagine holding two loaves of bread. You might feel like you're carrying bags of air. Maybe you'll put one in the freezer when you get home and forget about it for a week.

Now imagine holding a single loaf of bread. You might think its just bread, another thing you have to buy though you might not use it much.

Now imagine those loaves of bread, one, two and three of them, are new born babies that weigh the equivalent. They're about the length of your forearm, about the same size around it too. Their heads comparable to a baseball, doll clothing either fits perfectly or smothers them.

When Caiden was born he weighed 3lbs 8oz. That's just under the weight of three loaves of bread. However, compared to a lot of other preemies, that's huge. Plenty are born weighing as little as a single loaf of bread, often even less. Unless you've seen these tiny children in person, their size is a little hard to fathom. Even for me, sometimes its hard to imagine how a baby could possibly be any smaller than he was and still survive.

We are extremely aware how lucky we got with Caiden, I was allowed to labor slow enough to grant him a few extra days in my womb. Precious hours, minutes and seconds that reduced the number of days and weeks we would spend in the NICU. So many others aren't as lucky. So many others are taken even earlier than Caiden was, and so many others born further along face the same if not greater walls to overcome.

Before Caiden was born, before I had even gotten pregnant, I was admittedly oblivious to the world of preemies and parenting a preemie. I knew that the further along I was when I delivered the better chance he had of surviving, but I don't think I realized that it could actually happen, especially not to us.

So many people who hear our story ask the same questions and say the same things.. "Why aren't you over it?" "How can you focus on what happened when he's doing so well now?" "You should be happy this or that didn't happen.."

The answer to everything is a simple one: the experience alters your perspective on absolutely everything in your life.

It takes a preemie roughly two years to catch up to a full term baby born at the same time in regards to size and development. Despite countless people telling you not to, you will always compare your preemie to other babies, both premature and full term to look for warning signs in development. We are taught to look for and expect obstacles while raising our preemies. The first development screening is scheduled for us before we are even discharged from the NICU.

Many will face lifelong disabilities and diseases directly related to their preterm birth. It is unfortunately extremely common for premature babies to be born with bleeding in the brain, which is often times severe. Thankfully for preemies, babies fare better than adults with brain injuries, however it could still cause anything from blindness to mental retardation.

You acquire a mass of knowledge on subjects you had never heard of before. Things that in a perfect world, no one should need to know, and yet in a matter of days or weeks you become an expert, no schooling required.

And still, despite some of the greatest medical advancements, many babies born too soon will die. They won't know anything but their own suffering, and the massive amount of love their family has for them. They won't grow up to be singers, dancers, teachers, scientists, or even president. They won't cure cancer or end world hunger. They won't have their own husbands, wives or children.

You will have a memory, and a heartbreaking one at that. Every preemie parent knows this possible outcome and fears it long after coming home. We will constantly rejoice over achievements and cower in fear that somehow, they might be taken away from us.

It makes you think, if one in eight born in the US are born premature, how many of the people you grew up with were preemies? Have they changed your life or made an impact? How would your life be different if they hadn't survived?

A Step In The Right Direction

Yesterday Caiden received his last set of shots of the RSV vaccine (for information on RSV please go here). I asked the doctor if he would be eligible for next season and he won't be. Apparently here its only for preemies with a low birth weight who are six months or younger at the start of RSV season and babies with lung/heart disease up to age two. I thought preemies were eligible up to age two as well. If his doctor decides that he needs it next year we'd have to fight the insurance company. For a drug that's $2,000 per shot, and Caiden gets two each visit (dose is by weight), it wouldn't be likely that we'd win.

I'm a little torn between relief and anxiety. Next RSV season he won't have to get the shots every month but I know I'm going to be extra worried about him catching something. Every time we'd go for his monthly dose I'd feel horrible for him having to be there. The shots are painful. The needles are longer than average, they go deep into the muscle and the dose is large one. Had he not been premature, he wouldn't have needed to get them. I did appreciate that though he had to suffer through them, it was better he got them than have to deal with contracting RSV. Hopefully next year he'll be healthy enough so that if he does contract it, it won't be too bad.

It was nice to be able to see how much he weighs every month though, to go from him being weighed every day in the NICU to just at doctors appointments is quite the change. I have a good idea of how much he gains in a month though so guessing a close number isn't hard but its reassuring that he's gaining and growing the way he's supposed to.

Some days its hard to believe he was a preemie, but you never forget. He's done so well since being home, he's hardly even been sick. I think its partially because of the vaccines and because we've been very careful about him going out and being exposed to germs. After he came home from the NICU I bought a tag (pictured below) to hang from his infant carrier to ward off wandering hands of others. We've since moved to a convertible car seat so when we go to the stores he sits in the cart protected by a cover. Since he's still not sitting up on his own its a little difficult but we manage to make it work. I'm trying to figure out where I can put the tag so people can still see it.

The other day however, we were leaving the store after grocery shopping and I was putting his jacket back on (it was nice enough here that he didn't need a heavy coat). A lady walked up to us and started talking to him. For the most part I'm used to people talking to us. They tend to comment on his hair as its always sticking up no matter what I do to it. I just smile and answer their questions. This woman however decided it would be a good idea to try and run her fingers through his hair. Thankfully I managed to pull the cart away and asked her to please refrain from touching him. 

Even though I was polite she still made a rude comment and proceeded to storm off. Now I don't mind that I may have upset this woman, you simply don't touch another person's child without permission. She's lucky I didn't take it any further. I shouldn't have to explain to every curious passerby that he's a preemie, even this far out from the NICU he still has a delicate immune system. Preemie or not, its just one of those things you don't do. 

To purchase one of these signs please go here.

*I am not the owner of this company and don't benefit if you purchase one of these. As someone who's gotten great use out of ours I am only looking to pass along a wonderful item to other parents.*

Dealing with Development

Caiden is 8 1/2 months old, but he's not like other babies his age. He's not even like babies his adjusted age. I still haven't adjusted to adjusted age.. I don't know anyone with a preemie born around his birthday or gestation so gauging where he's supposed to be in his development is anyones guess.

It's hard to explain to other parents how hard it is to raise a preemie. Sure my husband and I are lucky that so far Caiden has no major health problems. A lot of people have it much worse, but this is what we have to live with, this is our everyday, our reality. This is what we have to focus on. It might not seem like a big deal or a huge issue to worry about but it is for us.

When you're pressured since the first moments of your child's life to expect problems and the importance of their development, that's all you can focus on. Sure I could enjoy being able to put my son down in one place and not worry about him getting into something but if that means my child is behind or not developing as fast as he's supposed to, I'm going to worry and do everything in my power to encourage him to improve.

It's not about me, its about him and ensuring he has a wonderful future ahead of him. He might do things slower than most babies but its not for a lack of trying. One day he'll do something new, but the time it takes him to learn that new skill, I'm going to be nervous about why he's not doing it yet.

It's hard to be happy for anyone when their baby learns something Caiden hasn't, I always feel like he should be doing it already and it pulls at my heart. It reminds me how unfair it is to him that he has to struggle to learn these things. It's not his fault he came so early, he should be a normal baby boy. He should be eight weeks and two days younger than he is.

Sure he's come a long way since he was born but there's a long hard road ahead of him still. As his mother I want the best for him, I hope when he's old enough to understand how his life began and the significance of it all that he's as proud of himself as I am. He's learned things normal babies never had to learn and I hope as he grows he'll do all the things he sets his mind to. If he can learn to survive at 3 1/2 pounds he can do anything.

Delilah Rose

I've debated writing this post for a while but I feel like I've reached the point where I'm finally ready to share.

As I've said before I have a genetic clotting disorder that caused the problems responsible for Caiden's premature birth last June. After doing my own research and talking to a specialist, my husband and I were even more sure we didn't want to risk having another child. Neither one of us wanted to go through what we did with Caiden's birth or put another child through that. So we decided no more kids. Caiden will be our one and only.

Then it happened. We were being as careful as we could have been while being unable to take birthcontrol, and we still ended up pregnant at the end of November. We were both scared out of our minds. I still struggle with grief over what happened with Caiden. As uneventful as our NICU stay was, it was the most difficult thing I've ever been through, and all I did was watch my baby grow and learn. This was something else. I knew what the final outcome would be, I knew what we would endure, I knew what our new baby would endure. I didn't want that. I didn't want another helpless child being forced to fight for their life. I didn't want another doomed August due date.

So I researched. I wanted to know if there was a chance I could have a normal pregnancy, if there was any hope that I might have a full term baby. Unfortunately I kept coming up blank. I hadn't been able to find anyone with the form I have that had gone on to have a term baby. It seemed that most were already on their last child, had been scared away from having another because of their experience, or continued to have preemies. The outlook wasn't good.

December 5th we moved from Oklahoma where my husband is from to New Hampshire, where I'm from. We moved for many reasons, one of which having access to better hospitals and doctors. My first appointment with a high risk OB didn't go as I had hoped. She claimed she had never heard of my clotting disorder and that I only had a 20% chance of developing preeclampsia again. I knew she was wrong and she didn't believe me. I went home and thought on it, then I did more research. She wasn't taking into account that my condition causes preeclampsia and that previous pregnancies didn't have an effect on whether or not I developed it again. I was in full on mom mode, while taking care of Caiden, battling morning sickness and trying to help my husband find a new job.

My next appointment with her was approaching. It was supposed to be around Christmas. I was going to have my first ultrasound. On December 23rd I started feeling different. I was still getting sick every morning but it was fading sooner. I wasn't as tired. I started to cramp on one side. December 27th was the same, I felt a little better, but the cramping was getting worse. I went in to my appointment that day. The ultrasound wasn't good. I was supposed to have been nine weeks. My baby was only measuring between five and six. I was given medication to pass the baby if I didn't on my own in the next few days. On December 29th, around 3am I woke up to use the bathroom.

And just like that, it was gone.


We hadn't planned on having another baby, but I love that child as I love my living son. I had felt in my heart that it had been a girl since the day I found out. I had been right about Caiden being a boy, I don't see any reason to doubt that I was wrong this time. That baby changed me. I faced my fears and accepted that I was going to bring another life into the world, that she would be early and we'd face the same obstacles as we had with her brother. Someone so important in my life shouldn't go without a name. Delilah Rose, my daughter. I cried myself back to sleep that night and many nights after.

The moment that test showed positive I was thrown into what felt like a nightmare. I knew the risk of miscarrying was high. We only told the people in our life who needed to know what was going on. I knew if I didn't miscarry, I was having another preemie. I knew the outlook wasn't good. I struggled to cope. But what happened, happened.

I feel guilty sometimes about being so fertile and "unable" to have more children. I wish I didn't have such horrible genes, I would donate every last one of my remaining eggs. I feel bad that while so many are struggling to start a family we get to go through this. But I am extremely grateful that this happened after Caiden was born. I appreciate him so much more knowing we could have easily lost him for so many reasons.

I have a love for tattoos, there is a story behind each one of mine. I got a play on the March of Dimes symbol (a woman holding a baby) tattooed on my left wrist shortly after Caiden was born. This past week I got a new one to commemorate Caiden's early arrival and the life of the little sister he'll never get to meet. On my right forearm I got a tree with 31 blue flowers for how many weeks Caiden was when he was born and nine pink flowers for how far along I was (supposed to be) when I lost Delilah.

Gentle Thanks

Caiden's doing the rolling pin across the living room floor to get to his toys. I'm sitting here watching him and crying like a baby myself. Wednesday he finally mastered rolling from his back to his belly days after turning 8 months old (6 adjusted). He's been doing it constantly ever since. I love it, mainly because it reminds me how far he's come, how far we've come.

March 10th is the second annual Parents of Preemies Day. I was so excited when I found out there was a day for us. You never stop being a preemie parent and I've never met a stronger, more welcoming group of people.

It's a wonderful feeling to know that while my baby can't show it yet, we're appreciated and acknowledged for all we went through with him in his first days, weeks and months of life. While we were one of the lucky ones with an "easy" NICU stay, no ones jealous, and we can all sympathize with everyone else. We've all been there. Each day outside of the NICU is a struggle, not just for our preemie but inside ourselves. Someone once asked me why I wasn't over the whole thing yet, its closing in on a year since Caiden's early arrival. Millions of babies are born premature. One in eight born in the US will be born weeks if not months before they are ready. Until that number is zero, not one of us parents will be over it.

While Caiden and every other preemie was fighting for their life, we as parents were fighting along side them. We are their biggest cheerleader, as a preemie parent you hold an even more important role in their success than any doctor ever could.

Anyone who knows me personally knows for being on the young side, I've overcome many daunting obstacles in my life but nothing compares to this. I have a saying I live by now. It's as simple as it is powerful: Infinitely strong, infinitely brave. I wholeheartedly believe this applies to both ourselves as parents and our preemie(s). Our babies overcome so much just to have a chance at life without even realizing what's going on around them. We have no choice but to sit there next to them, our hearts weeping and for someone, anyone to acknowledge what we as mothers and fathers go through along side our tiny miracles is a stitch on an unfortunately large group of broken hearts.


For more information about Parents of Preemies Day please go to
http://parentsofpreemiesday.org
or find them on Facebook at
facebook.com/parentsofpreemiesday

Been A While

I haven't written in a while for a lot of reasons. We were without Internet then moved across the country back to where I'm from. Also because being a parent is tough!

Today Caiden is 5 days away from turning 8 months old and the most amazing little boy I know! He said his first word December 4th after receiving his first RSV vaccine. Poor little guy was in pain and kind of crying. He said "ow"! It was obviously really cute since he had no idea what he was saying but I still say it counts! I was luckily recording him anyways and got it on video! For New Years he got both his bottom teeth in. Middle of January he mastered rolling over in just two days! The beginning of this month he began trying to crawl. I'm unbelievably proud of him.

However, as amazing as he's doing he's still got a long way to go. He's still got the top heavy preemie head so he topples over when he tires to sit up. Honestly, he'll probably crawl before he sits up on his own theres that much of a difference between how he's doing with each. Whenever he does these things though is totally fine with me. I know he'll do it on his own time.

When Caiden was first born and the first few months of his life, I thought things would be much easier. I thought he'd do everything by his adjusted age and the same times as babies born around his due date. I was wrong though. He hasn't been following milestones for either. He's been getting behind on things he should be doing but then catches up really quickly. Its impossible to predict anything about him. I do completely expect him to just start crawling one day (: thats just how he is. He's always surprising me.


I find it hard to relate to other moms though. He's so much different than other babies. I know I got to spend two extra months with my little boy but given the circumstances I wish I hadn't. To this day its really hard to live with myself over what happened. He had to spend his first month of life learning how to do things that should have come naturally had he been born on time. Its hard not to compare him to other babies, everyone expects so much of him.

One good thing though is he's pretty much caught up as far as his size. He's 19lbs, 29in and wearing 6-12 month pants, 6-9 month onesies and most sleepers. He also has massive feet. We're moving him into a convertible carseat soon because he's just too heavy to carry around in his infant carrier.

I'm so excited for his birthday coming up, its not too far away! This little boy is the happiest guy in the world and he completes our family so wonderfully.