Emmett's Insides, Part II

Remember two years ago when I wrote about our adventures with the pediatrician and Rolin's cow's milk protein allergy?

It's Emmett this time. He has it too.

His is worse, though. Rolin's didn't show up until he was about four months old (that and we didn't know any better).

Almost one month to the day after Emmett was born, his beautiful, seedy, mustard yellow, perfect-looking breast-fed-baby poop turned dark green.

I hoped and prayed it was simply an imbalance in foremilk/hindmilk, though I knew that wasn't going to be the case. He was a champion eater.

He pooped frequently and most of them were mucusy. As predicted, a stool sample left at the doctor's office came back positive for blood.

So I cut dairy out of my diet.

Green, blood and mucus continued so we tried eliminating dairy and soy. I told the doctor that eggs upset my stomach sometimes, so she suggested taking it easy on eggs. I also told her I ate peanut butter every day, so she suggested trying almond butter instead. She also mentioned corn is becoming more of an issue with babies.

After two weeks of no dairy, soy, eggs, corn, peanuts or coconut (my own hunch), diapers started turning yellow again. Hallelujah!

The celebration was short-lived. I introduced some of those items, all except dairy and soy, back to my diet, and the nasty green poo returned.

So I cut them all again. It didn't work this time. Except for three random days after Thanksgiving when he had beautiful, seedy, mustard yellow, perfect-looking breast-fed-baby poop again. The only thing I had done differently leading up to that time was I had no wine or beer.

I also started being suspicious of strawberries, tomatoes, grapes...

Dairy and soy are in a lot of food (there is soy in the gum brand we chew), but corn is in everything, guys. Corn syrup, cornstarch, corn oil...did you realize baking powder is cornstarch?

All this nonsense was driving me insane. Not only was I hungry all the time, my physical and mental health were starting to take a turn. Crazy diets can mess with your flora, man!

Changing Emmett's diapers filled me with dread. Sometimes I would tell myself the poop looked yellow, only to have my balloon of hope popped when I'd ask Rolin what color it was and he'd say, "green!"

Two-year-olds don't lie when it comes to color-coding poop.

Some days were filled with tears which welled up out of frustration, confusion, obsession, terror, anger, doubt, feelings of failure/poor parenting, empty hope...

Overall, Emmett is a growing, thriving baby. His reactions could be worse (Google image search it, if ye doubt the claim). He only had a couple eczema spots (Rolin had many) and he was generally happy (but boy, can he scream). His spit up was never projectile, though there was quite a bit of it.

We made several trips to the doctor, who had a child of her own with cow's milk, soy and corn allergies, so I trust her assessment in this situation. She said she would support me continuing to breast feed or to move to formula. That may make a sane person feel better, but it was around Christmas time my mama heart could take no more of the nasty poops. I was fearful, nervous, obsessive, getting more gray hair and, most of all, joyless.

This situation was robbing me of my ability to experience and appreciate the joy surrounding me: my two beautiful, smart, growing, curious, amazing boys. I would have to almost daily look in the mirror and tell myself to snap out of the funk I was in; to put on a smile and go be silly with my 2-year-old; to believe Emmett was going to be ok and go scoop him up and kiss him all over because he is mine and I can, and should, do that instead of being afraid to love him wholeheartedly because I was terrified I was slowly killing him. I've been in a bad place. The past five months had flown by and all I can really remember about them is green poop. That's no way to live life.

Two weeks ago, after he had about nine water-like green poos in one day, followed by a day of bloody poo, I knew it was time to do formula.

Another reason I was dreading formula was because the transition with Rolin was awful. Rolin thought we were trying to kill him. Joe and Brianna were visiting that weekend and can attest to the terribleness of it. We tried sippy cups, spoons, syringes, real cups, several different brands of bottles...he simply would not drink it, not to mention I became super engorged and uncomfortable for about two weeks. But, in the end, Rolin drank it and my boobs recovered. All was fine; Rolin was even allergy-free by 15-months-old.

Emmett is now on Alimentum, the liquid kind because that's the only corn-free formula. His poops look a lot better now, which is the overall goal. He fussed a little at the first bottle and denied the second bottle until it was mixed with breast milk. By the forth bottle he was flapping his arms in hungry excitement at the sight of a bottle of straight formula; he hasn't given breast milk a second thought since. Whaaaat??

Yep, he hardly batted an eye. Weaning has been a lot easier on me this time too, which is a huge relief. Now I just need to come up with $11 extra a day for the next six months to feed the kid (insurance denied our request because Emmett is gaining weight. Another story for another time).

I could go on about this -- it was for five months, after all -- but I'll stop here. Many of my acquaintances and relations are tired of hearing about this, I'm sure, but I thank them for their listening, patience and support!!

From November -- already two months ago! 

Embracing the moment. Picture taken at post time.

January so far

January has been busy so far, and I didn't really expect it to be so. That's better than boring, right?

Rolin had a really runny nose for about three weeks -- I mean really runny. We'd wipe it, turn around to throw away the tissue and then within seconds it'd be running past his chin again. I tried to pretend it was no biggie for a while, but when it showed no sign of clearing up, and he spiked a 101+ fever for a few days, we went to the doc. I had my suspicions of a sinus infection, and the doc agreed. I went home with a prescription for amoxicillin...Rolin barfed up the first dose -- I mean really barfed it and all of his lunch. Wheee! 

The next day his nose stopped running. Hummm. Would it have cleared up on it's own the next day anyway? Probably, considering my luck.

The rest of the dots are hard to see on his torso and legs, but they're there :(

Anyway, a few days later he started getting red spots on his torso, then legs and then his face. I asked a couple friends and my neighbor for their thoughts and expert parent thoughts, and then called the doc to see what they thought. By the time we went to the doc his "rash" was all over his body. It didn't appear to bother him and he was acting normal, but the poor thing had red blotches and dots all over :( We stopped the medicine and gave him some Benedryl, which seemed to help clear things up in about three days. He more than likely has an allergy to amoxicillin/penicillin. I also suspect roseola. But I'm no doctor.

He's fine now!

I've also been to a doctor or two myself because my body is building another baby! Yes, I'm pregnant; about three months along. Holy moley!

Best BIG Brother Ever, it should say... couldn't find a shirt that just said Big Brother. 

"B2T2" about 12.5 weeks baked.

This new little peanut is due July 27. For those of you who need a reminder, Rolin's birthday is July 24; our wedding anniversary is July 26; Joe and Brianna's anniversary is July 23; two other family birthdays are July 22. We always thought it would be nice to space our children about two years apart, but we did not intentionally plan them to be exactly two years apart! Nor did I really intend on spending another Christmas season laid up on the couch with the first-trimester ickies. All the same, I'd do it again, of course. I mean, look at that adorable profile:

All in all, this pregnancy has felt much the same as the first. I've been starving out of my mind, felt blergy from the moment I woke up until about 1 p.m. and I lacked energy or desire to do much of anything. Thank goodness for "Dinosaur Train," granola bars, apples & cheese, Costco trail mix and a husband who is happy to help. I'm in the second trimester now and things are much better. It really is almost like flipping a switch...I'm still hungry most of the time, but feel much better and have a bit more energy. 

In more doctor-related news, some of our friends in California have also seen their fair share of doctors after a series the triple Bs: blood clots, back surgeries and babies. After a long period of extreme back pain, our friend ended up in the hospital with blood clots; just days later, the need for emergency back surgery became apparent. A few days into recovery, his wife found herself in labor and soon delivered a precious baby boy. There has since been a second round of back surgery, and the recovery continues.

Team Thompson against painful and troublesome backs.

via

For their family, it's been a scary, emotional and trying time -- but it has been accompanied by the elation and pure joy a new baby brings a family. We thank God for watching over our friends and for his continued healing. We thank all of you who joined us in praying for their family, too!

In other January news, Rolin had his first haircut. If it were up to me we would have waited another couple months or so to cut it, but others beside just Justin thought it was looking a little shaggy. It was just hard to say ok to cutting off his baby curls!

Flowing locks.

Justin we tried to give him one at home, but we didn't have any hair scissors to give it a finished look (plus, it was a bit crooked, but that's just my opinion):

Then we ended up at a kids' hair cutting salon to make it look a little better:

Afterward, Rolin had his very first ice-cream cone that was all his own. He's had ice cream before, but never his own cone to eat by himself:

He looks like such a big kid with his new 'do.

Eating the entire cone himself proved to be a bit much as he vomited half of it up after gulping down a cup of milk at dinner. Ha! Gross.

As for the rest of January, we look forward to welcoming a lot of family visitors! Some are now in the vicinity in their motorhome, others are coming at the end of the month. Then my mom and dad come in early February. We're going to host a Super Bowl party at our house for everyone because the Seahawks made it! I can't wait to see everyone, even if it's really the 77 degree weather in Phoenix that was more of a reason for their a vacations than the Thompsons ;) (just kidding!). 

Troubling Ta Tas

In the midst of our move I developed a medical issue that turned out to be not an issue. And for that we can all thank the Almighty.

About two or so weeks before we moved, I called my OB/GYN to discuss some pain I'd been experiencing in my breast. It was a pain I tried to ignore, figuring it was something left over from breast feeding or it
was the result of the constant punching, smashing, slapping, stepping on, crushing, pinching, rump ramming or head butting my chest suffers from on a daily basis -- and all at the hands of the small child who used to find comfort and nourishment there. It's clear he has no memory of those days; you'd think he'd be more gentle with them if he knew that was his only source of food once upon a time.

Either that or he's upset with them. Let's just say he's forgotten.

Anyway.

Oh, and please prepare yourself. You'll be reading the word nipple a lot. Also breast. Also other words these parts of our anatomy go by.

Nipple.

See! I told you. Prepare yo'self.

So the pain started in the nip area on my right side. I ignored it for a few days until the pain spread. I started to get nervous, and I had a good reason to feel that way. I told Justin about it and we decided to wait three days to see if it would clear up on its own. It didn't. By that time the entire breast was sore and painful to touch, with a heavy dose of discomfort concentrated around the...umm...nipple. It was uncomfortable to hold Rolin (for reasons mentioned above), and even when lifting things I could feel some discomfort. I had had a few issues with clogged ducts and such while nursing, but this time it was different; plus I had no fever and felt fine otherwise, so I called the doc.

They were apparently concerned enough to get me in first thing the next day.

I was poked and prodded by the nurse. She kept apologizing, something I found to be ridiculously silly and annoying. I'd rather she make it awkward by taking a good, long, silent look while she felt around my
sad, deflated, post-nursing hoohaas instead of her saying sorry every 20 seconds. I wanted to say, "Get in there and study, lady! I expected to be violated!"

The nurse was puzzled. We both thought it'd be a clogged duct or something to do with mastitis even though I stopped nursing six months before, but the evaluation didn't point us in either direction. Instead, I left there with antibiotics (in case it was an infection of some sort) and instructions to go get a mammogram and a possible ultrasound on my right breast.

I managed to get in to have both the mammogram and the ultrasound Friday morning before we left for Rolin's birthday party in Grandview (this was another reason for rescheduling and rearranging party plans). The doctor in the mammogram center came in for a look as they too all figured the mammogram/ultrasound would show a clogged duct. It didn't. No one could see anything there (which is a good thing), but everyone was somewhat baffled by the pain, as well as some physical abnormalities (their word, not mine), such as more redness and a raised area, between the two breasts. They told me to call my doctor to discuss results and to get a referral to a breast surgeon for more evaluations. The radiology doc wouldn't go into any other detail beyond that.

Breast surgeon. That doesn't sound intimidating now, does it?

See, when the pain first arrived, I thought it may have been the result of some stress surrounding the move. Hormones are crazy, unbridled beasts, and, as the ladies will attest, totally unpredictable. I had a similar random pain in my ovarian area while working in Seattle...after tests turned up negative, my then doctor chocked it up to stress. I mentioned this to my doctor when I finally got to talk to her (and, oh, what a calming relief she was to talk to!), and she said stress and hormones could be a possibility. So we had a blood draw to check.

Everything was normal. Basically, we were back at square one. Well, sort of. A week later, the pain had somewhat dissipated, but I wasn't about to just pretend none of that happened. Better safe than sorry, ya know?

We were scheduled to move to Phoenix soon, so my doc suggested I get to Phoenix and then find an OB/GYN there to give me a referral to a breast surgeon. She also assured me that following up with a breast surgeon could be overkill, but, like I said, better safe than sorry.

Within our first week in Phoenix I visited an OB's office and got a referral to a breast surgeon. I had to wait another two weeks to get in to see him, but I finally did, with breast films, test results and all other information in tow.

By this time I was, and had been for a few weeks, virtually pain free. The doctor met with me in his office (just like in the movies, guys!) to go over the information I had and to discuss a few things before we went to the exam room. After a quick exam he told me it was a good thing I came in, but that everything is totally fine. Nothing to worry about.

The reason they had me check everything out is because generally women with nipple pain are in their 40-50s, not their 30s, and there is a type of cancer that can start and or camp out in the nipple that acts a bit differently than other breast cancers. Because the pain ceased, and because no one could spot anything at all in the mammograms or ultrasound, there was nothing more they had to look at or evaluate.

And since we're being honest here, I'll tell you that I pretty much stopped retaining what he said after that. He talked a bit about self exams, what was necessary and what wasn't so much anymore, but I was just glad to hear this doctor had no concerns at this time.

There. So now you know everything. It's been a wild few months for everyone, but things are beginning to get back to normal here in Phoenix. Hooray!

I'm still glad I went and covered all my basis with doctors and tests. Listen to your bodies, people. To quote my new OB/GYN, "We don't mess around with boobies!"

He goes before us, He stands behind us

Several friends and family have asked how I've been doing with the move, broken leases, Rolin's birthday, temp housing and other life events. Overall, I'm doing well. We made it to Phoenix; we're still all relatively sane. I'd call that a win for Team Thompson!

While I believe my body still managed to host a physical reaction to stress (more on that later), I believe I did mentally ok with this move. Especially compared to when we first moved to California.

Besides forgetting Rolin's swim trunks for swimming lessons, and, I'm sure, overlooking someone's birthday (sorry if it was yours!), I don't think I experienced too much scatterbrain-ness or overreacting. Well, except for the day the new pediatrician in Spokane (yes, I finally found a new one) told me that there was no way I could bring Rolin in until August 6. We still didn't have a firm date as to when we would leave town, you see, and I wasn't sure if we'd still be in town on August 6.

Hearing that I may not be able to get him in for his 1-year well baby check was apparently a trigger for me; I experienced a breakdown not unlike a breakdown a brand new mom may have during the first two or so weeks of a new baby's life. My crazy-mom hormones kicked in and I was irrationally convinced that if I didn't get Rolin his 1-year vaccinations before we left for Phoenix, he would surely perish or spontaneously combust the moment he saw his first cactus.

Good news: We made it to his August 6th appointment.

This time around, I am 100% certain that my (overall) sanity is owed to a higher level of faith and reliance on God. I mostly trusted with the last moves, but in the past I would let doubt and crazy brain get the better of me. I would allow evil to instill fear in my world. I'd feared things would not work out smoothly, that we wouldn't make enough money to eat in California, that I wouldn't find a job, that we'd never ever find any friends.

Every single time, those doubts have been proved wrong. The Lord does provide.

Doubt and fear are silent, deadly enemies, my friends.

Understanding and remembering that our Heavenly Father goes before us and stands behind us (Deut. 31:8) is a sure comfort. This is a promise I was reminded of through a song the day after learning of our Phoenix assignment, and also by a friend the night before we left Spokane. I'm not saying this adventure was worry-free, but reminding myself that our story is part of his plan, taking a deep breath from time to time and telling myself I do not have to take action or control in every little thing really brought a new sense of peace to this transition.

Some tasks are meant for others to handle, and the best way for me to help is to take a step back and trust. Also known as mind my own business.

There are things I've struggled with in my life -- worry, jealousy, bossiness, biting my nails, hypersensitivity to others words/actions, judging, nosiness (for lack of a a better word that describes getting involved in situations where I don't belong), to name a few -- all things that have been helped through prayer and conversation with Jesus. That's not to say I don't still struggle with these, but I'm getting better.

Worry, for example...well, let's call it irrational fear...

I once saw someone touch raw pork and then reach into a large package of wonton wrappers (we were making dumplings), therefore possibly contaminating the remaining wonton wrappers in the package. Another person took the rest of the wonton wrappers home to use at a later date. I couldn't sleep for two nights out of fear that if I didn't tell them I'd witnessed a possible (and after further review, unlikely) contamination of the remaining wonton wrappers, that this person's family would die from trichinosis.

Another time I hunted down newlyweds in a crowd of people to tell them to please remove the blue crepe paper from their getaway car before they parked at the airport, out of fear that the paper would not only stain their car, but that they'd be super pissed at the bridal party for eternity and never talk to us again. They looked at me as if I was the stupidest person on the block and that of course they already planned on removing the blue crepe paper. They were adults, after all. With brains of their own and everything!

But still, these are the things that haunt my thoughts and dreams.

Also, involving myself where I don't belong. While I 'd like to think of it as being vigilant, others probably find it to be more along the lines of meddling, "oldest child syndrome," being bossy, nosy or a busybody...

I still have a very prominent memory of being called out after whisking away a spoon from a cousin's toddling child. The child's parents were right there, present and watching, but I still intervened thinking I knew best. The parents were actually kind in the way they called me out, considering my actions were unnecessary and they were now dealing with a screaming, confused toddler -- but I think it was the look on everyone's faces that was like someone smacking me upside the head and saying you don't always need to do something about everything.

After that, while I was visiting home for the weekend, I actually told my mom I was disinclined to acquiesce to her request to I make sure my adult-aged brother was out of bed in time for church, that his khakis were ironed and he was wearing a belt (because he hadn't yet responded to her previous (and multiple) requests, you see). This waking-my-brother business was a frequent assignment of my youth, and it'd almost always lead to some sort of outrageous Sunday-morning throwdown between me and said brother.

You know why? Because I made it my business, my job, my duty, and I was determined to be successful. I wouldn't simply stick my head in his room and tell him to get up. Ohhh, no. I'd stick my whole person in his room and start waving my arms around and stomping my feet, demanding he get up. I'd say he was making mom mad, that I didn't understand why he just wouldn't do what mom said, that he knew better, that he was being ridiculous jerkface and he knew it, that he really, really, really needed to get up!!! And don't forget your damn belt!!!

This would cause undo stress, anger, semi-hatred, upset stomachs and unnecessary nail biting for everyone. It could have all easily been avoided.

This particular time, when assigned the task of waking brother, I told mom I'd tell him once, but I'd leave it at that. Guess what? He eventually woke, dressed, ate and got in the car...all...by...himself! There was no screaming, calling of names, hitting or gnashing of teeth. I think that Sunday we actually all walked into church with smiles on our faces. He may have even been wearing a belt!

Sometimes we got along.

Learning to let go, learning to hand over the reigns, learning to pass on taking the reigns in the first place, learning to trust with the faith that all things will work together is a lesson I need tattooed on my forehead. It is (obviously) definitely not my first thought or reaction in most situations. But I am learning.

With this move I really focused on trusting and not working myself into a wobbly, worried, doubtful, control-freak mess. There were groups of people working on logistics and details so we didn't have to, and I just let them do it. Yes, I still had moments of panic, anger, worry, bickering and tears, but a keeping my focus on God's faithfulness and control served as a reminder that eventually things will be back to normal, that He will take care of us. It helped me see God moving in the present.

Perhaps this time it won't take me almost three years to look back and say, "Ohhh, I see what you did there. You're sneaky. Thank you!"

We're moving!

A couple months ago, Team Thompson entertained the idea of buying a home in Spokane. We then decided we'd be better off renting for another year before buying, and instead hit up the rental sites to see if we could find a cute house for rent or lease (something with a fenced yard, two bathrooms, all appliances included, extra bedrooms, something close to a nice neighborhood cafe...you know...the works). 

We didn't find many great options online or from our in-person visits, but one day in mid-June I decided to drive down 23rd Ave. on the South Hill and spotted a for lease sign. It was for a super cute house, with a fenced yard, two bathrooms, new appliances, extra bedrooms, it's next to The Scoop...you know...the works! I called the number on the sign and scheduled a viewing for later that afternoon. 

It was perfect! A nice kitchen with new, stainless steel appliances, three bedrooms + a loft/attic area for a guestroom/playroom/children's room, a garage, was located next to The Scoop...you know...the works. Just look at it! We filled out an application that day. We made it through the screening process and signed the lease the following week. 

We sent out invitations to Rolin's first birthday, listing our new place as the venue. We've lined people up to help move us. We've picked up boxes from random sources. We've packed up about half our townhouse. We are set to move.

To Phoenix. Arizona. Phoenix, Arizona.

So forget what's above. Apparently, someone else has other plans for our family! Just days after we signed our lease, Justin got a call from his boss about an opportunity in Phoenix.

See, a couple weeks prior to this, Justin had casually mentioned to his boss that we were house hunting. The boss was excited for us! Then, a few days later, boss called JT to ask him if he'd reconsider signing a lease because something might be coming up at some point. Maybe. He couldn't tell anything more than that. No hints, no timeline, no possible destinations, nothing.

That's ok, I get the need for secrecy.

So, we decided to go ahead and sign for the house we found. It was perfect, after all, with it's fenced yard, two bathrooms, new appliances, extra bedrooms, it's located next to The Scoop...you know...the works. I mean, just look at it!

Really, LOOK AT IT! You want to rent it too, don't you? (Well, someone needs to rent it...but I'll get to that in a minute.)

Anyway, as I said above, we signed the lease. I immediately started packing boxes and making arrangements. However, within days, we got the call about Phoenix. So, we weighed our options, we told family members, we stopped packing, we talked to friends who knew the Phoenix area, we started wondering what exactly you should do if you or your child are bitten by a desert creature, such as a scorpion.

We also waited. We waited and waited and waited and waited and WAITED for more information from the company. When the official offer finally came in, Justin accepted the position right away.

It's a good move for him professionally, as well as for our family. For starters, the district is not as spread out as his current district, so he'll be home on a more regular basis. Maybe the bags under my eyes will go away?

As you can imagine, we've had quite a few decisions to make and details to take care of over the last few weeks, so please accept this as a formal apology if you are just now being informed of our move.

Our timeline: Movers come at the end of this week.We fly away on August 11th. Ack!

Back to the lease on the other place...so we did sign it. We paid the required fees and first month's rent, yadda yadda yadda. Now we're stuck with a year-long lease for a home into which we will not be settling. It's back on the market and I've been soliciting friends and strangers (including a dude at the park) to please, pretty please, tell all acquaintances about a cute, craftsman-style house for rent on the South Hill. It has a fenced yard, two bathrooms, new appliances, extra bedrooms, it's next to The Scoop...you know...the works.

Thank you to those of you who have said prayers for us during this process, as well as other events that have come up in the last month. I know your prayers were heard because overall JT and I have felt pretty good and at ease about things. Of course we've had our outbursts, but, like I said, overall we're doing ok. Please keep it up :)

I promise to post soon about our crazy July, a month that presented a very momentous occasion for Team Thompson...Rolin's 1st birthday!

In the meantime, enjoy this picture of Rolly bug and my dad on the Spokane Carousel:

Polo shirt party!

If Prosser had a movie theater...

Note: Pictures of Rolly's six-month shoot are interspersed in this post to keep things a little more entertaining than dreary. 

If Prosser had a movie theater, then you could say Rolin smells like Prosser: a combination of potatoes and buttery popcorn. 

Why? It's a result of the toughest week as a parent I've experienced so far...well not so far, just in the last five months. In reality, if I take a step back and take into account how happy, healthy and growing Rolly is, I really shouldn't continue to get as worked up about this as I have been. But, for the time being, my world is revolving around one diaper with blood after another, and, so far, it's only getting worse. 

Anyway. Rolly smells like he lives in a movie theater in Prosser because he is now on formula that smells like potatoes, and the smell of his diapers is reminiscent of buttery popcorn (sorry!). You probably have to be from the Prosser area to understand this.  

What's that you say? This is the first you've heard of blood in his diaper? Well, that's because until now I've been trying to tell myself it's not that big of a deal. That it will take care of itself. That all will be well again. He has had occasional (three times) blood in his diaper since Thanksgiving. Hardly anything to bat an eye at, but blood all the same. He was diagnosed with a cow's milk protein intolerance, based on the blood and some eczema.

So far, it's worse on formula. The Cristal of formula, mind you. The formula made especially for babies with this intolerance.

The nurses at the doctor's office say this condition isn't hurting him, which is nice to hear, but I can't help but think that if something is making him poop blood, it can't be good. 

Last weekend, my momma mind and emotional capacity lost their stronghold. I felt I was trapped in a glass case of emotion (a'thank you, Ron Burgundy). I'm surprised there are any tears left in my system. I gave in to worry, fear, anxiety, defeat and sadness. All of which are an unhealthy approach to the situation, I know, but I slipped and fell into my self-made pit of despair. 

I am trying to get out, though. And I'm thankful for wonderful friends and family who have given their time, ear and suggestions.

If you're ready for the list of things that all happened at once, keep reading. If you're thinking, "Christine, get over yourself. It could be a lot worse," I know you're right. I'm even more upset that I let my emotions take over the way they did, but they did. However, this is my blog. A sort of diary, if you will, and I feel like sharing this for myself as well as my readers. 

 Last Friday there was more blood in Rolin's diaper. We left our pediatrician's office with a can of formula and were instructed to stop breastfeeding; no other instruction was given. It kind of went like this: Hey, have you ever given your baby anything else other that breast milk? No? Well, too bad. I'm not going to give you any tips or instruction OR tell you that it's ok if he still nurses...just take this can of expensive powder and get out of here. It's 4:30 p.m. on a Friday and I'd like to start my weekend. Also, if you call on Monday to talk to me about how your baby absolutely refused to eat over the weekend, my nurse will be snarky on the phone, tell you to force it down him with a dropper and then forget to tell me you called so no one will talk to you until Wednesday. Good luck!

I'll tell you this much, I'll never again schedule an appointment for a Friday.

In addition to that, over the weekend the "fancy" camera was dropped and broke. Justin was back from being gone for about three weeks (yay!), but he had the flu (boo!). There was a veritable herd of angry baby pigs living in our clothes dryer. The shower began leaking into our kitchen AGAIN and lastly, as mentioned above, Rolin refused to eat anything from a bottle, sippy cup, regular cup or spoon. Even breast milk. 

Sorry for saying breast so much.

The good news: he is now accepting the formula. The bad news: He now has more blood in his poo than we've seen before. And it's been happening for days now. The blood we noticed previously was usually contained to one diaper, one day.

 

I guess the reason I feel so emotional about the whole thing is because I feel like I can't make a decision. I can't seem to feel confident in any decision I make. I'm afraid to make the wrong one. I don't feel educated on the subject, and that's no one's fault but my own. I thought we had it figured out but I was wrong.  I feel I should have done more research, exhausted my resources to learn about cow's milk protein allergies. How much time do I have to investigate? Who knows best? I am (or was) his only food source and I am making him sick. Is it better to just keep breast feeding and deal with the occasional blood in his diaper, or is this killing him slowly and/or will it be the cause of future intestinal disorders even though they say it's not hurting him now. Should he absolutely go on formula now? Why is this formula making him bleed more? Should we go to a GI specialist? Should I just nurse him? He's growing just fine; he isn't fussy. I'm glad we made it six months, but am I determined to do whatever it takes to try to nurse him for a year? What's best for him? Me or formula? I don't know. I don't know how to find out. 

I've talked to the nurses at the pediatrician's office. (Why not the actual pediatrician? Rookie mom mistake...long story.) I've talked to parents, friends, lactation consultants, the triage nurse at the children's hospital, representatives from La Leche. Almost everyone, save for the nurses, told me to keep nursing and stay off dairy. But why shouldn't I listen to the people at the pediatrician's office? They went to med school, they deal with babies every day. So why is the blood worse? How good is my momma intuition? Can I trust it? Is it being irrational? Is it properly educated? Is it trapped in its own glass case of emotion?

Anyway, I'll be calling the pediatrician first thing tomorrow to discuss the latest. Until then, I'll think of Prosser every time we change Rolly's diaper. 

We appreciate your prayers!

4 weeks old!

Big  R is four weeks old as of Tuesday, turning one month old this Friday. 

If you're four weeks old and you know it, raise your hand!

It's hard to believe how quickly the weeks have passed...they've gone by in a blur of happiness, terror, tears, laughs, thankfulness, nervousness, sleepiness, hallucinations and, most of all, joy. We are blessed -- more than we know -- with this little boy. 

Look how smart he is! Holding up four fingers for four weeks!

In the four weeks that have gone by, we've learned a few lessons:

1). Pee. There is a lot of it and it can get everywhere. Just when you think it's not possible that he has to pee again, you're wrong. He'll pee. And it'll get on your shirt, the curtains and the floor. If you're lucky, it won't get in his mouth.
2). If at first your swaddle doesn't succeed, try, try again. If you continue to fail, find the one your friend sent you with the velcro.
3). Hallucinations caused by sleep deprivation feel inconceivably real. For example, while I thought I could smell the grass, hear the sprinklers and feel the summer sun on my skin, I certainly was not driving a golf cart down a picturesque fairway. I also wasn't riding horses with Justin in the countryside. I was nursing an infant while sitting in a red glider.
4). Think you have plenty of diapers? Wrong!
5). Moms (grandmas) = super heroes. If my mom hadn't shown up when she did, with a carload of food, Justin and I would have been barely surviving on ketchup, cheese sticks and ice cubes. I'd also probably still be playing imaginary golf while Justin was out riding imaginary horses.
6). Milk drunk is a real thing. When your two-day-old suddenly goes limp and poos himself three times in a row, you probably don't need to get ready to head to the ER. Chances are he's just "gone drunk" and will recover once he's hungry again.
7). Pacifiers...just give in and give the baby one. Turns out they just need to suck something sometimes. Also, no matter how much you spend on the fancy pacifier that will supposedly save you from expensive orthodontia bills in the future, chances are he'll like the cheapo plain one hospitals issue. Go figure.
8). Your husband will repeatedly use your toothbrush, no matter how many times you tell him, "YOURS IS THE BLUE ONE, MINE IS THE GRAY ONE!" You'll resort to hiding your toothbrush.
9). Once you hear the diaper being loaded, it's best to just wait five minutes before changing said diaper. Nine times out of 10, he's not quite done.
10). White noise. Get the app, keep your phone close.

Bonus lesson, for moms only: Even if you think to yourself, "they're my 'fat' jeans, maybe they'll work," DON'T try them on to see if they fit. They won't. Just go about your business in yoga pants and be OK with it.

"These photo shoots are boring, mom. Also, I've just peed through this outfit."

We had a baby: how it went down

We welcomed Rolin Matthew Thompson to our world at 1:42 a.m. Tuesday, July 24th, 2012. His arrival was swift -- so swift that it took Justin and I at least the amount of time we were in the hospital to realize Rolin (pronounced "raw-lin," like Colin or pollen) had been born. That I'd gone through labor. That we had a son. That we were, henceforth, charged with caring for and nurturing a child of our very own.

We were parents.

Not that I'm complaining. I'll take a four hour and 30 minute labor & delivery any day of the week!

Settle in here, folks. This post is rather long. It's more of a place for me to type out the birth story. I've inserted a few pictures to help keep you entertained until the very end.

How it went down:

The Friday before Rolin was born I had a regular weekly appointment with my doctor where I learned I was about 3 cm dilated. During my visit she said she "stirred things up a bit" so I shouldn't be surprised if I experienced some cramping over the weekend.

Some cramping. Ha.

This is one of my fav pics so far

Friday, Saturday and Sunday brought discomfort, though I went about with my normal activities, which included having friends over for dinner and meeting up with friends to do girly things, like shopping and eating. The whole time I was experiencing this so-called cramping. Sometimes the pains were intense with regularity...occasionally a cluster would be exactly 8-10 mins apart...occasionally I'd go 20-30 minutes with nothing. I did some serious timing of them Saturday, but eventually I gave up on that, especially since everyone says, "oh, when it's a real contraction, you'll know. You'll just know."

The cramping sensations disappeared completely Sunday night. Monday, nothing. I went to a park with friends Heather and Eva, who were up from CA visiting peeps in WA. Over lunch that afternoon, Heather and I joked about how after all the weekend excitement I'd probably have the baby as soon as Heather left that afternoon to Seattle. Haha, funny.

A little smile

Back at home I started in on dinner: Steak Em Up Pitas (find the recipe here). Around 7 p.m. I called my mom to ask a question about tablecloths and reported that I felt just fine, that there had been no signs of pre-labor all day.

Justin and I helped ourselves to large servings of said pitas, mostly because after 8 p.m. JT was to be fasting for his morning doctor's appointment. After dinner we went upstairs to do more research on pediatricians. About 9:15 p.m. I decided to go from standing by the computer to sitting...half way through this maneuver something inside my belly popped. It was an audible "pop!," at least to me. It was my water...it broke. There wasn't much of it, but enough to know that was the most likely scenario for what I was experiencing.

Chaos ensued.

Both of us completely forgot the plan. We spent about five minutes running back and forth upstairs, empty-handed, trying to figure out what was absolutely necessary to throw in our nearly-packed hospital bag. Although there was a list (of course there was a list, this is me we're talking about here) of things to complete the bag, it was like I was staring at a list written in blurry Chinese. JT had just finished a sweaty bike ride too and so he jumped in the shower while I rounded up last minute items, like my toothbrush, snacks for the cooler, JT's Kindle, my slippers and iPhone charger...you know...important things we'd need for the long labor I was expecting.

He'll show you how to Dougie

We made it to the hospital by 9:30 p.m.; I had JT drop me at the door while he parked. I was still feeling fine and was nervous that they'd send me home...that it was a false alarm...that perhaps the loud "pop" was just baby karate-punching my bladder. As I walked through the sliding door, I had a contraction. As I rode up in the elevator to the Birth Place, I had another one.

Yes, yes, everyone...you're right. When you're having a real contraction you just know.

The check-in process was ridiculous. Apparently it was a busy day for babies and the hospital had not yet processed my previously submitted pre-registration form -- the one I thought about calling to check on earlier that very day, but decided against as I was told they'd call me to finalize details about a week before my due date. The receptionist said we could wait in the waiting room if we wanted so we didn't have to stand.

WAIT IN THE WAITING ROOM??! It took everything I had not to flip out. Justin too. We just stood in the waiting area. I walked through three or so contractions. Finally the triage nurse, who was very sweet, came to get us. I was quickly strapped to monitors and the like while they tried to figure out if my water had indeed broke...apparently not as big of a deal to real doctors as they make it sound in birthing class...

Aunt Brianna and Roly

Turns out people had been coming to the Birth Place all day thinking they were in labor. Instead, because of the heat, the majority were simply cases of dehydration and they were sent home. I guess by the time we got there they'd had their fill of false alarms and thought it was ok to just take their sweet time with check in.

In triage -- 40 mins later -- my blood pressure was sky high. High enough to make the nurse yelp at the computer and recheck my BP at least three more times. Of course it was high! I was contracting about every 6-7 minutes, the juice she gave me made me feel like I was going to vom and I thought I had to use the bathroom. It was nearing 11 p.m. when they decided to officially admit me, only "because my BP was so high." Then she decided to check to see if I was dilated more than 3 cm. Uhhh, yes, I was. By this time I was about 5-6 cm.

It was actually my OB/GYN who was on duty that night (hallelujah!) and a friendly nurse, Nurse Tom, walked us to our room. I continued to quietly breathe through contractions as Nurse Tom told us all about or room's amenities and asked if I wanted to walk around, get in the Jacuzzi or try the birthing ball. I opted for Jacuzzi and the luxury of its jets. By this time, the contractions were quite intense. JT then ran out to move the car and get our bags while Nurse Tom continued to ask me check-in questions. After Justin was back, we decided to call the families to let them know we were indeed at the hospital and indeed in labor. It was then about 11:45 p.m. - 12:15 a.m. or so.

See...we envisioned this going a little differently...laboring at home, slowly telling people I was either a). thinking I was in labor and just giving them a heads up or b). in active labor, checked in at the hospital. I had planned on telling many of you we were in the process of having the baby rather than telling you we had already had the baby!

Eventually I tried the birthing ball...contractions were coming I'd say every 1-3(?) minutes by that point, making it incredibly hard to answer more than one question at a time for Nurse Tom, who was still going through the admin form. I was thinking to myself, "If I'm in for 10 or more hours of this at 2 minutes apart, I'm not going to make it." It was then I decided I'd give in and ask for the epidural, so they sent for the anesthesiologist, who had an entire set of questions/forms of his own.

Spoiler alert: we never got to his list...

It was closer to 1 a.m. by now. I wasn't connected to any monitors, nor had anyone checked to see the progression of labor in quite some time. I casually mentioned to Tom that I sure did feel like I had to go to the bathroom again, but he suggested I hop up on the bed so we could check baby and labor progression. He also told Mr. Anesthesiologist, in a more harried tone, to get his act together lickity split as they started getting a hep lock for the IV in my arm.

Before they finished IV prep, Tom looked me straight in the eye and then announced that I was 9 cm dilated.

Tom then kindly asked Mr. Anesthesiologist to go get the doctor.

Mr. Anesthesiologist left. Mr. Anesthesiologist didn't come back.

We were past the point of no return.

I looked back at Tom and said something like, "soooo...no epidural then?"

He said something to the effect of, "Oh hun. No..."

Tom and Justin continued applying loads of welcome pressure to pressure points in my back and palms. Tom and Justin were quite the team! Both were wonderfully supportive and strong, both physically and emotionally.

Sleeping babes in the hospital

Then it was showtime.

Someone pushed a button on the wall and suddenly our plain, quaint, cozy laboring room pulled a Transformer. Lights came down from the ceiling, walls flipped around to display computer screens, medical equipment and more, and carts full of various instruments and devices rolled in.

A reminder to always double check placement of 'things' when putting on a new diaper.

My doctor -- again, so glad it was my doctor on call the night -- asked Tom and me a few questions, gave me a look of surprise when Tom told her how long we'd actually been in the room laboring and then said, "Ok, Christine, on this next one I'd like you to push."

WHAT?!

I thought I still had to go through the transition phase, the part they say is the most uncomfortable. The part I was dreading.

"Pssst, they've been putting me in these "shirts" for a few days. They don't even cover my bum! Also, yes, this is a makeshift changing table on the dining table..."

I mean, I was uncomfortable, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I guess you could say I was just waiting for things to get worse. And I certainly did feel like I had to push. I'd felt that way for a while by that point.

Then Tom whispered, "You can do this, your body was made for this."

As cheesy as it sounds when reading it, those words seemed to do the trick. Tom was right. I was made to have a baby and I was going to do it, damn it! It was that simple statement that made something click in my body and brain. I should send Tom a thank you note.

Pushing began. Nausea kicked in. Again. The steak pitas decided to join in on the party by parking themselves in my throat. They made it so Tom had to run from one side of the bed to the other holding a barf tray the whole time I was pushing. Thinking about that still makes me chuckle. Thankfully he never had to use the tray, but the pitas sure did keep Tom on his toes. Despite their annoyance, the med team all agreed the steak pita recipe sounded really good, and were impressed they were homemade on the night of labor beginning.

My memory from here on is a little cloudy. I think we did about 10 sets of pushing total. I remember getting super hot and also remember looking at JT at one point and saying, "This hurts." Then, pushing again, I remember the doctor said, "Oh look! Christine, look!"

Boom.

Baby.

Rolin Matthew Thompson was born.

As soon as it was over, it was over. Pain, gone. Need to push, gone. All other labor-related sensations (well, almost all), gone. I looked up and said, "That wasn't so bad!"

Seriously...I said that.

In my mind, at that very moment, I honestly thought to myself, "I'd definitely do that again. Next week, even, if I were guaranteed another labor like that one." It's pretty amazing what your body can do. I'm not saying it wasn't unpleasant. Please don't think I'm saying it was easy or pain free -- I did ask for an epidural, after all, and the only reason I didn't get one is because nature had a different plan in mind. I've never experienced pain or uncomfortableness like that before in my life, but it's a different sort of pain. Progressive, goal-achieving pain that, again, is over once it's over.

Then recovery begins, but that's another story for another time. Another time that'll never come to be. That is a tale that's best left to the imagination and late night texting amongst friends.

The rest, as they say, is history. Justin got to push the button that rings a chime-like bell throughout the entire hospital, announcing to the world another baby has been born. He also cut the cord and helped get Rolin cleaned up, swaddled and prepared for moving to the mother-baby room. Justin was, and has been, a champ, a rock, a comfort, a partner and a wonderful, amazing, loving father. Nothing compares to actually seeing your husband in action as a dad.

We have many stories to tell about our little one and parenthood, so stay tuned. Oh, and yes, there will be pictures. Many, many pictures.

Grandma Karen Thompson and Rolin

Week 34

How far along? 34 Weeks, 2 days.
Total weight gain: ~1-2 lbs. since the last dr. appt. 
Maternity clothes? Yep.
Stretch marks? Haven't seen one yet!
Sleep: Well...it's hotter lately, I have bizarre dreams (even more bizarre than usual...the latest featured the Kardashians...?!), I get some wicked Braxton Hicks when I lay back down from getting up to use the bathroom...I believe I'm being trained for long nights?
Best moment this week: I believe BT flipped from being heads up to heads down! Also, Justin got home late Thursday night from his SoCal trip and has no more long, plane-required trips planned until the end of August. Lastly, the coffee stand I swing through from time to time gives out free donuts on Fridays. Ehem. 
Miss Anything? I think I covered most of them already.
Movement: The other morning I felt what I believe to have been a foot figuring out it could hook itself under my ribs. Also, BT shifts from side to side occasionally, causing my tummy to be lopsided. When this happens, Justin calls BT a spawning salmon :)
Food cravings: Heather Brackett's amazing chocolate chip cookies. Rumor has it she's making some Friday and mailing them to Spokane! They're made with browned butter, peeps.
Anything making you queasy or sick: No.
Gender: Your guess is as good as mine! 
Labor Signs: None (at least I don't think so).
Symptoms: Losing my memory and occasional heartburn. Oh, and that hill I walk up to get to the park? I'm not going to walk up it anymore. I did earlier this week...at the slowest pace yet...and by the time I got to the park I was feeling lots of pressure and a pins-and-needles sensation in the baby area. I sat on a bench for a while until most of that passed, then experienced some Braxton Hicks while doing laps around the park. Since then, I've been driving to the park. Genius! I still get contractions with any exercise, but the prickly pressure pain isn't as intense. No more hills. 
Belly Button in or out? Still an in/out.
Wedding rings on or off? On. Though it's hotter this week so we'll see what happens. 
Happy or Moody most of the time: Doing just fine, thank you very much.
Looking forward to: Finishing the cradle bumper project, Justin being home more often, the pork tenderloin with a blackberry compote I'm making for dinner tonight, the caramel macadamia nut crunch frozen yogurt I bought at the store and, call me crazy, but some good ol' summer weather! Enough of these thunder storms...bring on the sun!

Boom!

Duplex Chronicles: Best convo of 2012 -- yes, already

The scene: Team Thompson's house in shambles...still decorated for Christmas, also bearing signs of no chores having been done whatsoever over the week between Christmas and New Year's Day. A no-makeup-sporting Christine sitting on the couch with some wicked bedhead, and dressed an outfit that hasn't been mirror-checked...for two days...folding some laundry. A lot of laundry.

Neighbor walks by, peeking in the window as he passes, seeing Christine and the house in shambles. Christine squeaks to Justin to please join her in the living room to talk to Neighbor.

Team Thompson open the door...

Neighbor: Happy New Year, guys.
Team Thompson: Thanks, to you too.
Neighbor: You guys paid an extra $100 in rent this month, did you know that?
TT: No, it's been a long month. Thanks for letting us know.
Neighbor: Yeah, you guys look like you could use some rest...{{Neighbor eyeballs Christine; Christine realizes she hasn't eyeballed herself all day}} Well, at least you get a 3-day weekend to rest up. You have tomorrow off, right?
TT: No.
Neighbor: What? It's a national holiday. Isn't it illegal to work?
TT: No.
Neighbor: That's weird. Are you sure?
TT: Yes.
{{{ pause}}}
TT: We work in retail. All the stores are open, thus, we have to work. We could take the day off, but that would require using vacation days.
Neighbor: That sucks.

TT's head thoughts: Neighbor...you say this EVERY SINGLE "NATIONAL HOLIDAY." When will you get it...haven't you ever gone out to eat on a "national holiday"? How about to a movie, or have you gone to the mall? Have you needed some milk, butter and a dozen eggs? How about some more plants for the yard? DID GHOSTS SELL YOU THESE GOODS on a "national holiday"? NO! People still have to work on these days too!

TT: Yeah. Well. Happy New Year. We'll just pay $100 less next month if that's ok. Bye.
Neighbor: Sure. And thanks for watering my plants while I was on vacation. They always look better when I get back.

... :-D

Wee, Wee, Wee...

Justin surprised me a few weeks ago with a ticket home to see my family. He knew I was feeling homesick so he worked it out with my parents, my boss and my friend Linsley to get me home for a long weekend.

Linsley and Gavin picked me up at SeaTac Thursday night and we headed up to my old hood, Lake Forest Park, to meet friends Tara and Erin at the Lake Forest Bar & Grill. You'll have to take my word for it...I forgot to take a picture of the group.

Friday we headed out early for Eastern Washington to surprise my parents who thought I wouldn't be in Grandview until  much later that evening. I'm glad I made it home earlier because mom and I were able to join Brianna on a very successful wedding dress shopping outing (she found "the one!!").

On Saturday I got fitted for my bridesmaid dress and then I got to meet this precious little tatertot:

This is Miss Emmalyn, baby daughter of my friends Erin and Mike. It was so heartwarming to see my friend, a friend I've known  my entire life, and her hubby looking at and loving on their baby girl. I was so happy to get to meet Emmalyn and spend some time snuggling with her!

Later that evening we had more family join us at my parents' house for a family BBQ. Family came from near and far and it felt so good to see everyone! Family get-togethers happen regularly back home, and they're something I realized, during this last trip, that I take for granted. It'd been a while since I attended such a gathering that was held for no particular reason...well besides the fact that I was visiting. Seeing everyone together made me feel happy and sad at the same time, for all sorts of reasons. It's hard to replace the feeling of being in a room full of people I love and who (I'm assuming...we're family, after all) love me in return. It's probably what I miss most about being closer to home.

 

Joe and Dad chattin' by the BBQ

 Mom brought out the fancy cake for the occasion

 

Donald and Joe at the gun show

 

 Brianna and her entourage :) The kiddos love her!

 

Nanny and me

I went to church Sunday with my parents, and Joe & Brianna came too. They wanted to scope out the church because that's the venue they've chosen for their wedding ceremony. Mom and I made the loop with Brianna through the church after the service to point out all the different areas used for wedding prep. Of course, because there were more girls than guys in the house by the time we got back home, wedding talk continued into the afternoon where we talked over food options, yard decor for the reception, timing, photos, etc. It's cute to watch Joe & Brianna talk about wedding plans because they're both so excited! It makes a big sister happy to see her little brother in love.

My friend Heather came over Sunday afternoon with her baby girl, Makiya, who turned 1 in February. We spent most of the time trying to get Makiya to take a few steps, but she was happier flipping through books and playing with some of the toys my mom dug out of the old toy cupboard. It was great to spend a bit of time with Heather -- I've missed that girl! Some of my favorite high school memories involve Heather! I missed the opportunity to take a picture of the ladies, but I hope to have another opportunity to spend time with them again soon.

Monday came too fast, but at least I was able to spend most of the day in Grandview before mom and dad took me back to SeaTac. Before we left town, we stopped in Sunnyside to fulfill my only request: to go to Burger Ranch.

God bless Burger Ranch's fries and fry sauce.

I landed back in California late Monday night. As the plane touched down I was overcome with a strange feeling. It was a feeling of comfort and relief, a feeling of happiness and familiarity -- these were feelings I've never felt before when landing in California. It seems that I missed this place -- this place I've refused to call home for the last two years appears to be growing on me.

As Justin zoomed down the 101 towards San Jose I realized the feeling that washed over me was a wave of senses saying, "you're home!"

What's happening to me??!?!!

I guess all the "bloom where you're planted" advice is finally starting to sink in, eh? I shouldn't really be so shocked that I'm starting to be more comfortable with the fact that I'm living in California -- becoming more thankful and happy with where I am in life has been a prayer of mine since the day I found out we were moving. Sometimes it's hard to remember God has a plan and there is nothing I can do to predict, control or change it. I shared this "home" revelation with my girls bible study last time we met -- the majority of the girls in the group moved to the Silicon Valley with their tech-savvy spouses, so most are in a similar situation and rejoiced with me as I shared my story as a praise vs. a prayer request (keep your prayers coming, though!).

I had a wonderful time in Washington and can't wait until Joe & Brianna's wedding in July when we'll celebrate the newlyweds with more friends and family. I promise Justin will be with me next time. He does exist.