4.5 months and growing

Little (or not so little?) Layla had her four month appointment today. Weighing in at a whopping 15lbs and 25.5 inches long - putting her in the 75% percentile for weight and 90% for height. She's my long and lean little monster. She got two shots and an oral. We decided to hold on on the second DTap vaccine because last time she had a VERY bad reaction to having so many vaccines at once. We'll go back next month and just got that shot.

This is what LG is doing right now. Feet up, snuggled in her stroller watching cartoons on Sprout. So far all is well on the home front! Here's to hoping for no bad reactions this time around :)

I like to read.

Before I was a mommy I enjoyed reading. I'd stay up till the wee hours of the night, sitting up in bed by the light of my cell phone losing myself in whatever book I had. Its been a few months since I've been able to sit down and read, but last week I grabbed The Nanny Returns to get back into my grove. It was a really easy read and the sequel to The Nanny Diaries. Not bad, though, the ending was sort of flat. Anyway, this post is about this book:

The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. Let me just say that I have never read a book that has left such a profound feeling in my heart. The story is told from a dogs perspective. It's about his family, his life .. his people. As I read each sentence I can see his mannerisms in my mind; you know, those typical of the family dog. Stein offers such a heartwarming and bittersweet story about human strength and the impact animals have on ours lives. Truly an amazing read for dog lovers (and non-dog lovers alike).

I'm serious. If you enjoy a good book every now and then.. grab this one, a cup of hot chocolate and lose yourself into the world the Stein creates.

New Yorkkkk. Where dreams are made of

**Warning: Cute overload***

Last Sunday Layla and I decided to take a last minute trip to New York for her great-grandmother's 85th birthday party. Just before we left I took her four month photos:




Then we left for NY! We did lots of fun stuff...


We met GG (great-grandma) for the first time. Layla is her 8th great-grand child and the first fourth generation daughter.


Went for sushi with the family



And read with my cousins Sydney and Lola


It was hard leaving NY, but we're do glad to be home! Can't wait to head back in the summer when it's nice and warm!

Old school vs new school

Parenting. Over the years (aka all of time) parenting styles have changed and evolved. There seems to be an old school and new school thought on how to raise children. Old school tends to lean towards formula feeding, crying it out & putting rice in bottles to extend time between feedings. Whereas new school takes on more an a natural parenting role - extended breastfeeding, babywearing & co-sleeping. Really, when you think about it, the new school parents are going back to OLD old school parenting. The way our great-great grandmothers raised their children.

I've taken a new school approach to raising my daughter. While we don't cloth-diaper (Mr G wasn't on board), we do co-sleep and breastfed. Now that Layla is 4 months I'm noticing a pressure to get her out of my bed. My mother, older sister & aunts have told me I'll regret my decision to co-sleep later when Layla won't sleep in her own crib. They've also said that at 4 months Layla should be sleeping through the night - 12 straight hours. A fix to my child not sleeping longer than 6 hour stretches, according to an old school approach, would be to fill a bottle up with a heavy, corn syrup laced formula OR put in a small amount of rice into a bottle of breastmilk. However, I'm not too keen on filling my child up with anything other than what is natural and comes out of ME. Layla is already tipping the percentile charts at 90% for weight, so why add corn syrup or carbs or starch into her diet? It is my job as her mother to provide her with what I think is best for her. If my child is hungry every two hours, I will feed her, though I will say it does take a physical drain on myself. The flip side is that my daughter is healthy and growing like a weed (and growing makes a baby hungry!)

My parenting style probably will not work for most, and I do believe that Layla will grow up to be a strong, independent women regardless of where I let her sleep. There are times that I find myself wanting to let her cry-it-out, or thinking to myself that it'll be easier to put her on formula, but then reality hits. Formula is expensive and just not right for US.

So, why is it that old school parents - those who raised children in the 80s and 90s mostly can't see the benefits of new school ideas? Delaying solids till 6 months, breastfeeding for the first year, etc. It's even a more European way to raise children. The benefits of natural parenting are amazing. Things have changed in the last 30 years when it comes to parenting, and really - they've changed for the better. The new school's generation of children will hopefully make this word a more natural, green & healthier planet.

Things that melt my heart

Layla with her big cousin Antonio. She loved him and would follow his voice to wherever he was in the room. <3



This face.



LG with her bestie Rocco. They cuddle all the time.




P.s. Have you noticed my hyperlink? Letters to LAYA? Really, Mrs G? You forgot the L in your own child's name. Now people are going to think your some crazed Star Wars fan ...

Pregnant? You may want to read this.

Seriously - I'm going to start a blog called "The shit they don't tell you when you're pregnant with your first child". Every day is an adventure in my household. Not only is Layla exploring and discovering new things, but I am, too. For example, I've discovered that I shed like a Golden Retriever in the middle of summer, and that while it's terrible to experience, it is completely normal.

I had noticed in the last 2 or so weeks that my hair was starting to fall out. I knew that eventually this would happen but I didn't know when, nor did I realize the extent. So last night I was showering and combing conditioner through my hair to let it sit (I am, I might add, the product of two hairdressers). When I pulled the comb through and looked at it I nearly died. There was enough hair there to cover Britney Spears head the day after she shaved it. Ok, maybe I'm elaborating slightly, but there was A LOT of hair. So much for being one of those lucky moms who never loses the awesome preggo hair!

Well, just so happens that when you're pregnant your body holds on to your hair. For one reason or the other, actually mostly due to an increase in estrogen, pregnant bodies do not shed as much. Around 4 months postpartum, which I happen to be (holy shit where does time go?!), your body has a huge dip in estrogen and let's go of the hair it held on to . And so beings the hair loss equivalent of a 50 year old man.

Adding. Not subtracting.

Lent is upon us again. One year I gave up chocolate cream filled donuts. Another year soda. I don't eat chocolate filled donuts anymore, nor do I drink soda. This year I decided to do something different. Instead of giving up something in my life that I love (i.e. ... ice cream or cookies or cake .... see a pattern here?), I decided to add something to my life:

Reading with Layla. Once a day, every day.

I used to be an avid reader. Avid as in I could read a book in a few hours and had a to-read list 50 books deep at any given time. Then I became a mommy and sitting down to read a book for myself has become hard. I miss reading, though. I miss diving into a book and losing myself to it. I miss the way the binding on a new book is inflexible, each page fresh & untouched (and I'm currently singing "Like a Virgin" in my head as I type this); no coffee stains from sitting next to my morning cup or disheveled look from being carried around in my bag. New books are fun. But I haven't seen a new book in quite some time ...::insert sad face here::

So, how to fix this dilemma? Bust out the old books to read to a new person! Of course. Duh. Winning <- is that over played? Probably is.

Last night LG and I read Beatrix Potter's Peter Rabbit. Now, for those that don't know me don't realize my love for that little rabbit. Layla's entire room is a Peter Rabbit/English country side theme. We sat and read, looked at pictures ... I used different voices. It was a grand old time. 3/4 the way through Layla fell asleep and I kept reading. I could tell just the sound of my voice was calming and that even though her eyes were closed she was taking in every single word. Reading out-loud to her took reading in general to an entirely new level. It was fantastic. Probably the best Lent promise I've ever made.

Tonight on the list is Tom Kitten. We'll finish the rest of Beatrix Potter and move on to the host of other small books she has, and eventually the big ones - like her Grimm's Fairy Tale book that Mr G's sister got her.

There is nothing better than reading with your child. Not only does it help their imagination grow, it reminds you that you still have one too.

I must be nuts

We're testing out the crib tonight and I'm currently on a blow up mattress in Layla's room. She's in her crib.....

I must be totally insane.

Sickies, snoring & healthy eating

Mr G got us all sick.

No flu, thank tiny baby Jesus, but colds. Little Layla so far is fighting it off the best - she's got a home field advantage - hello, boob milk! I, on the other hand, got the wicked mutated version & couldn't take much for it. Apparently decongestants can have a negative affect on milk supply. Who knew? So, I toughed it out with Thai chicken noodle soup & Jersey Shore reruns.

Anyway, we have a dilemma in our house. Mr G snores, and when I say snores ... he SNORES. For the last few months (as in since October), he has been banished to the couch. There is no way I can sleep next to him. It's like sleeping next to a freight train. He needs to lose a cool 35 lbs, so today we are starting a major health kick. We bought lean meats and tons of veggies and fruit, and I meal-planned thru Friday. We have always eaten about 90% organic, but not exactly low fat. It's time for us to get serious with eating properly. I want to make sure we are setting healthy examples for LG.

I found a fab website: www.LaaLoosh.com and planned all my meals around Weight Watchers points (which, btw, we will be starting sometime this month). Our meals this week include chicken in a creamy mushroom sauce & seared tuna with pesto stuffed baked tomatoes. Doesn't sound too terrible, right?

We'll see how it goes! I'm also signing up for a 5k on April 23rd, which means I need to start really running every.single.day until then. Getting back into a grind is hard, but I know it'll be so worth it.

I'll say it.

"HELP! I'm trapped..."


I'm a working mother. There. I said. I. Am. A. Working. Mother. As much as I don't want to be, I am. 'Working Mom' has such a negative tone to it. When brought up in a converstation, those moms that get to stay home often reply with, "Well, I could never leave my child all day. I love them too much." Why does a working mother love her children any less (or visa versa, for that matter. A working mother is no better than a stay at home mom - who in my opinion works JUST as hard). Perhaps the working mother needs to go back for financial reasons. Maybe she enjoys the 8 hours of free time - speaking to adults instead of watching Sesame Street on repeat. Or, maybe the perks of her job are too good to give up, which is my case.

I work so I can show my daughter the world, and every Saturday and Sunday when I get up at 2:30am to be at work for 5am, I remind my self of that. I work to give Layla what she needs AND what she wants. Would I rather be back at home snuggling in bed, taking in her baby smell and waiting for the sun to rise? Yes. Would I rather get up and make breakfast for my husband and myself and fold laundry? Yes. But if I do those things Layla would not be heading to Disney, NYC, Toronto & Montreal before she is a year old (or to Italy and possibly Australia by the time she is two).

Both working moms and SAHMoms love their children equally, and trust me, I believe that given the opporunity 4 out of 5 working mothers would WANT to stay home. So, why is there such a disconnect between the two? When did working or staying home become the battle of 'I'm the better Mommy'. Why does one set feel entitled while the other feels trapped - and I'm not labeling one or the other. The simple fact is each wants to be recogized for what they do.

I just want moms to remember, though, that working mothers miss their children ALL day long. There is not a second that goes by during my day that I don't think of Layla - how she is, what she's doing. It's not easy to get up in the morning and walk away from her, or hear her cry when Mr G calls me to check in. Working straight up sucks - but for the moment, I have to do it. And for stay at home moms? I get that, too... you're job is equally as demanding. There are never enough hours in a day, and having a child wrapped around your leg 24/7 is exhausting.

But, at the end of the long tiring day, working moms and stay at home moms are the same: we are just moms.

I fight like a girl.

No, really I do.

March is an important month. Why you ask? Well, March is Endometriosis awareness month. Part of this blog (beside pimping {not literally} out my child - and HELLO, isn't she the cutest?) was to document my fight with this disease. It has been a long and difficult road - actually, more like a roller coaster. So many ups, downs & loops. I suppose that happens with every disease, though.

What is Endometriosis? In a nut shell, your uterus is lined with a tissue called the endometrium. Each month a woman's body builds this lining up in anticipation for a fertilized egg. When an egg is not fertilized and does not attach to the endometrium, you get your period. In some instances this lining grows outside of the uterus causing adhesions. Each month when a woman gets her period these adhesions are stimulated, swelling and often bleeding. The process is progressive and tends to get worse with each month. The symptoms are rough: painful and many times debilitating periods, painful sex, painful bowel movements, lower back pain... and that's just to name a few. The ONLY (and I cannot stress that enough) way to diagnose Endometriosis is by laparoscopic surgery. It's fairly non-evasive, but that also can vary on a case to case basis and depending on how bad/how much scar tissue there is built up.

The big issue with this disease is that it is not widely known. Endometriosis hasn't killed anyone, though it has broken many many women. Including myself ....


When I was 18 I had my first ruptured cyst. It was the size of a golf ball. I woke up at 3am and literally crawled up the steps and army crawled to my mothers room. I could barely breathe let alone speak I was in so much pain. After that, I had at least two-three ruptured cysts for the next two years before an OB/GYN said, "Something isn't right."I wanted to scream, "YOU THINK?!" No one believed me. No one believed how much pain I was in every month. Doctor after doctor said it was normal. That it was because I was young. They said, no big deal - you have painful periods...here is some birth control. So when I finally found someone who listened, a weight was lifted off my shoulders. Unfortunately that weight was shortly put back on. I was diagnosed with stage two Endometriosis. He went on to describe how Endo causes infertility and most women end with hysterectomies. It's funny - all you want when you feel like crap is a diagnosis. You want to know what the hell is wrong with you and what you have to do to feel better, but when the diagnosis is a bad one ... you feel just as alone, afraid & lost as you did before.

Fast forward 12 months. I meet Mr G. I had been on continuous birth control (aka no periods ) for two years. 24 months. NO period. Some women would say, "OMG! How lucky are you?!" Not so much. I gained and lost a shit ton of weight (I was a human yo-yo). My skin was crap. I was tired allllllllllllllllll the time, not to mention in pain nearly 24/7. I might as well have tattooed 'FML' across my forehead. Mr G became a support system really fast. He took care of me. Made me feel better when I just wanted to throw my hands up and quit. After we had been dating about 6 months I went to the doctor after not being able to pee. I swear, I think I understand what it feels like for guys with an inflamed prostate. Good grief. The doctor I saw said that Endo was probably back and he felt a fairly large adhesion during an exam. When your GYN feels your adhesions you know you're in trouble. Oddly enough, that doctor refused surgery. Told me I was too young (this, btw, was the theme for a while).
Six months, a move 2 hours north with Mr G for school and a few doctors later (including one the "best" {I use "" because he sucked} reproductive endocrinologists at a VERY prominent medical university here), I found a doctor who would preform a lap.

He preformed a lap, told me I was lucky I came to him when I did, as the Endo was so bad I had gone from a stage two to a stage four in almost two years, & that I should have had one a year ago (well, duh - I tried). I remember quite vividly sitting in his office as he read the post-op reports. I remember him saying he found Endo on my bowels and bladder but left it because he wasn't trained to remove adhesions there. He told me my fertility was in danger and that having babies naturally would be very difficult. He told me I'd need a hysterectomy by 30 ... I was just 24 .... He put me on a host of different drugs. I went on a POP - progesterone one pill - and gained a whopping 20lbs. I might add that the drug didn't work. When Mr G and I moved back home 16 months later I was in bad shape. I started running fevers every month - 102*-103*... the ER wouldn't let me leave one night because they were afraid I was going to have a seizer. Again, no doctor would listen to me. I might add that in this time span I came off ALL medications and was regularly getting my period. Mr G and I were not using any protection... what-so-ever. We weren't trying to get pregnant, per se, but we weren't not trying. Our thought process was, well, if they say we can't get pregnant - let's just have a good time.

FINALLY we found a doctor who would REALLY listen. My third lap was terrible, so bad so I needed a bowel surgeon present. Both doctors removed a host of Endo that had basically taken over my abdomen and most of my bowels. I had the top of my rectum removed and was told by the bowel surgeon that he did everything in his power to save my bowels, but had I wanted just a few months more for surgery, I probably would've needed a resection. I stayed over night in the hospital on a morphine drip and lost nearly 20lbs in 5 days (I wasn't allowed to eat ANYTHING solid). This doctor put me on a drug called Lupron. It causes you to go into a medically induced menopause (and was originally for prostate cancer patients). I was on this for three months... and HOLY CRAP - I was a crazy women. Mr G and I were knee deep in planning a wedding and my ass was menopausal. I had hot flashes, massive mood swings & hated my own existence. Mr G and I nearly split on more than one occasion. Thankfully we got through it...

Just when the Lupron was starting to wear off, Mr G and I really started to contemplate the future of our fertility. Should I freeze eggs? Should we adopt? What was the game plan. So we took the post-op report to a local reproductive endocrinologist. He did an exam, went through my medical files & sat us down ... he said he'd give me 6 months to try and conceive naturally but that it was highly unlikely we would - not to mention extremely dangerous with the history of endo on my bowels, and since my body started with the fevers again, it was probable that my body was killing it's own eggs. We took everything he said into consideration and decided that I'd do another round of Lurpon to prevent the endometriosis from returning. The idea of a bowel resection of a little more scary than me being a psycho-crazy person. I had to wait till I got my period, and besides my doctor was about 2 hours north, so Mr G and I hadn't made an appointment. For a good four days I thought I was going to get my period and never did. Out of sheer curiosity one morning I took a pregnancy test ... it was positive.

Mr G and I conceived on the first ovulation off Lupron. No idea how... but we did. This little ball of cells survived that...she also survived a 103* fever. She survived. Mr G and I cried that night... we sat, hands on my belly and just cried. We cried happy tears, worried tears... flat out scared tears. Is this true? Miscarriage rates are higher for women with endo, as are ectopic pregnancies, but everything seemed fine - thankfully. 9 months later we had Layla Grace ... our dark beauty, our small Grace of God. She is precious in every single way. More than we could ask for. She is our fighter... We fought for her and she fought for us.

This is my story. Everyone has one. I don't think it's over, but right now I'm content. Breastfeeding is keeping my period at bay and if we can keep it that way for another year, that'd be amazing. So my endometriosis is at a halt, but I know it's lingering - sitting on the back-burner of my uterus. But she's a strong ute. She's defied odds and conquered. We won last time... and we will win again and again.

I know this disease may seem so trivial. How can periods be THAT painful? But they are. Endometriosis suffers are very rarely heard & there are some-odd 89 million of us. Even as the disease is diagnosed more and more... we are still left to suffer in pain on our own. All we want is a chance to fight. Endometriosis may not be a disease that kills, but it is a disease that breaks... it breaks homes, strength & most of all, it breaks hearts.


If you are interested in more information about Endometriosis, here are some links:
Endometriosis Foundation
Endometriosis

Some things should be illegal

Do you see that? Tell me you see that. If I could, I'd bite my computer.

That .. THAT is a cookie stuffed cookie. An OREO stuffed inside a CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE.

Who thought of this?!

Here's how the magic happens: Magic

Excuse me, I need to make a run to Target now.

Also, stay tuned. It's taken a me while to finally sit down and write this (You know, those pesky post-baby emotions), but my next post will be all about our struggle with infertility and the disease that almost cost me my ute: Endometriosis.

Co-Sleeping

You either love it or your hate it... or you have no idea what it is (and yet will probably find yourself doing it at some point).

We fell into natural parenting by default. A mixture of an anxiety ridden mother and a baby with reflux lead to me becoming a breastfeeding, baby-wearing & co-sleeping mama. The co-sleeping started in the hospital. For some reason I couldn't bare the thought of Layla being in the tiny bassinet at the foot of my bed. I had no idea if she was hot, cold or even breathing. So, to keep myself sane, I moved her into bed with me. Every time a nurse would walk into our room they'd look at me and ask, "why is that baby in bed with you?" Why? Oh, just because I'm a freak. But in reality, it's hard to go from carrying this wee little baby for 9 months to having them out in the big bad world.

When we got home the co-sleeping continued. I'd put LG in her cradle, but the anxiety and thoughts of something happening to her kept entering my mind and keeping me from sleeping. Besides, we both slept better and for longer stretches when she was next to me. I was told later that babies do not make the separation of themselves from their mothers until around 3-4 months, so of course it made sense that being close to me helped her sleep. She was then diagnosed with reflux and the only way she would sleep was upright on my chest. She'd sleep there for 4 hours at a time, which totally beat hearing a 1 month old cry for any extended period of time.

I always knew the benefits of co-sleeping, but in the States co-sleeping is looked upon with a fairly negative attitude (& in my opinion, those with a negative attitude don't know the benefits. Especially those who say that babies are at a higher risk for SIDS. It has been proven that babies who sleep next to their mothers are at a lower risk, as the mothers breathing stimulates baby to breathe). For me co-sleeping has been the easiest because I'm nursing. When little Layla is hungry all I have to do is roll over, lift up my shirt and she eats. It's a win-win really because we both pretty much get a full nights sleep. Now that she is approaching four months people have been telling me we should make transition from my bed to her crib or I'll be sorry later. I'm stuck. Hubs who was all for co-sleeping in the beginning is now on the couch & wanting his bed back, but he was kicked out of the room for snoring - so he will probably remain on the couch regardless :x

What is the best age to remove a co-sleeper from your bed? Layla still has at least one midnight feeding and I don't see her cutting that feeding out anytime soon. I also notice that when I get out of bed, Layla knows almost immediately and wakes within minutes and usually screams in a way that sounds like she thinks she's been left alone. What are the signs that a little one is ready to go into their own bed? When does co-sleeping (or does it ever?) turn into dependent sleeping for both mother and child? There is nothing more comforting to me than sleeping face to face with my little girl, but is that selfish of me? Am I reenforcing dependent behavior at an early age even though co-sleeping children tend to be more independent in toddlerhood? Do I trust my own maternal instincts or Western culture?

These questions are big for us and I'm not entirely sure I can answer them right now; actually, I'm not sure I want to answer them at all. I suppose the only thing I can do is play it by ear... like everything else.