Like Ordinary Life

A few weekends ago I spent the incredibly too many hours with my eyeball sockets glued to a screen of Hootsuite streams, but hey, that’s what happens when you choose to turn social media into a job, right? It’s been a strange transition as I’ve stepped away from full time employment and I’ve had a few great opportunities to contract and keep my whistle wet in the business, if you know what I mean? 

Anyway, we created somewhat of a monster child because he sleeps from 10:00 p.m. to 10:00 a.m. and so mornings are a bit of a wash once we clean up and get dressed. The saddest part is that we rarely make it to the baby class at the library on Wednesday mornings, but never wake a sleeping baby, right? Occasionally I will actually take advantage of my sleeping babe and get some work done in those “normal adult morning hours” and it’s actually quite lovely. I’m not going to lie. I’ve got a baby who is teething and still wakes every few hours to nurse and so when he sleeps in, I sometimes (um, usually) sleep in, too. I’ve never been so lazy (but not at all) in my entire life.

Also causing friction in my life right now: we have vowed to raise a media-free family, but I blog and I get paid for social media and all things digital. It’s all so confusing. And, to be fair, we will watch a tiny bit of television with Max in the room, but he is never interested in the comings and goings of the Braverman clan or the Crawley’s like we are. He’s happy playing with his toys, his back to the screen, which is perfectly fine with us. Max is, however, fascinated with our phones and sometimes checks what is on the computer when I have it up. Mainly, he wants to know where Taylor Swift’s voice is coming from (this kid and Blank Space, if only you knew). So, when I do get to work, our set up is a bit like me at my executive desk and my little miniature sidekick next to me, all tall in his high chair with a toy or two. But really, all he wants to do is play with the cats.

I’ve gotten in a super bad habit called sweets and you guys, I can’t control myself. I blame the metabolism of an exclusively breastfeeding, first time mommy. We are getting along too well, this “I can eat anything” diet I am on. Breakfast is usually some sort of sweet situation and either chai tea or coffee while Max plays with his toys and I play on the computer. I’ve had a love/hate relationship with our mug collection recently because every time we get a “microwave safe” mug, it turns out to be a liar. I’m in love with our newest mugs for that exact reason, actually. Sweet Water Decor. Check ‘em out. These mugs are adorable and the real definition of microwave safe! It doesn’t get better than that. Plus, they support my obsession with black and white patterns, which, let’s be honest, has always been a little out of hand.

So Sweet Water Decor is giving you 20% off your mugs with the code MUG20. You should go pick up a mug for every day of the week. I need to get my hands on the NAMA’STAY IN BED mug because, let’s be honest, that’s what I’ve been doing more of than actual work these days. Their prints sort of rock, too. 

Babies are really only newborns for about 4 weeks and that is the most tragic part of parenthood, I think. Except that newborns turn into infants and infants are super rad, too. Anyway, once babies hit that first month mark, they start to develop like weeds. I sat down with Alex and together we ranked the things we found the most helpful for us with Max in those first couple of months. There’s a ton more that we relied on, but these things really stick out as Max’s must-haves. I’d love to hear what you found super helpful for the wee little infant in your life.

Mobile: Don’t get one that lights up or makes noises. No, no, no. That’s incredibly too much stimuli for a baby. You just need one that will float in the air above your little one’s eyes. Max would stare at his mobile long enough for me to take a shower. How about that? You need a mobile.

Skip Hop Alphabet Zoo Activity Gym: This is the “jungle gym” Max has and we love it. We watched him reach so many milestones on this little activity pad. He would try to scoot across it only a few days old, and then we saw him first bat at the animals above his head, and then he would grab the animals, lift his head.... I am forever indebted to this toy we call his jungle gym. And, as a plus, he’s 6 1/2 months old and still plays with it!

Tommy Tippee Closer to Nature Bottles: Of all the bottles we tried, these were the best for our breast-preferring little dude. If you have a baby that loves to nurse but could care less about a bottle, I definitely recommend these. They have a shorter nipple and a wider base... more like mama.

Ubbi Diaper Pail: You guys, this is the best. It doesn’t absorb the stench and those wet diapers can get rank. Even when they are super tiny, the ammonia can get to you. Totally worth the extra money.

Relax Melodies App: Forget the white noise machines. This app is free and you can make your own white noise melody. We have one for Max with an oscillating fan, monks chanting, white noise, and a seashore. It’s the calmest. (This is also good for meditation and yoga!)

Board Books: I started reading to Max pretty much immediately and at about two months he started really noticing the pages of the books. He’d “read” to me and say “ooey ooey ooey ooh” and point to the pages. This is a memory I think every parent should have!

Pottery Barn Kids Hooded Towel: We started out with so many baby towels when Max was born. Between poor quality and blowouts, this is the one left standing. It’s super soft and big enough that he’ll get use out of it for quite awhile still. Plus, certain colors are on sale!

Sassy Floor Mirror: This is it. This is the one toy you need to have. It has grown with Max since the very beginning. First he liked looking at the ladybug, bee, and his reflection. Then, he loved making the ladybug’s belly move. It was his first really successful attempt at hitting an object and seeing what would happen. Now, he still loves to hold his mirror. It’s simply the best.

Winkel Rattle and Teether: The winkel rattle is excellent. It’s easy for a baby to hold onto, has soft tubes and bright colors. We actually have the winkel lion and he kind of looks like a sun and so we call him “lion sun” which sounds funny when you say it.

Crane Drop Shape Ultrasonic Cool Mist Humidifier: Babies get congested and the best thing to do is run a humidifier. An added bonus? If you cosleep, your skin is going to love that humidifier, too!

In my typical stalking fashion, I recently came across a conversation (through the rabbit hole of Pinterest cleaning searches) about how horrible the color white is because it's impossible to clean. For whatever reason, it threw me totally off and I could feel myself actually getting offended by their cruel statements against white linens and bathroom tiles and kitchen counters (although I do hate our white countertop, but that is because it is laminate). I actually love decorating with white and it probably stems partially back to a super old argument I used to have with my husband.

You see, he didn't think something (a bathroom, a kitchen, an entryway) needed to be cleaned until it looked dirty. This drove me crazy. I wanted to clean on a regular basis, never letting anything get to the point of actually looking dirty. He would tell me I was crazy and that there was no reason to clean (insert toilet, carpet, bathtub...) yet because it looked fine. Then would come my nasty "Who taught you how to clean?" look and I'd go about cleaning myself. So many passive aggressive moments over the years. Now, he's converted a bit, especially since Max was born and we feel a bit more of an investment in cleaning.

That's the thing about decorating with white. Sure, white linens are unforgiving, but isn't that what we want? If you have brown or blue or gray bed linens, you could easily be sleeping on a dirty pillow without even knowing it because the dirt won't show. If your bathroom tile is white, you'll certainly know when it needs special attention around the toilet base (ugh, right?). I only recently learned how to truly wash pillows (the pillow, not the pillowcase) and oh my goodness, why would you ever choose to sleep on a sweat-stained, dirty pillow night after night?

Anyway, I really felt the need to advocate for white because, well, the only flaw it has is that it's not letting you pretend something is clean when it's not. Seriously, think about it, you really don't want to be sleeping night after night in supposedly clean sheets.

Holy polar vortex.

I'm not one to complain about the cold. If you've followed this blog for long, you know that I prefer it to heat. I'm the sort of person that can't tell the difference between 30 degrees and zero. Cold is cold and I can deal.

Remember when I told you about how I stripped my closet down to the basics and I've been living in just those? Well, it's been a few months now and it's seriously gone splendid. I love getting dressed because everything matches. It's great. But one of the items in there that I wear super regularly is my fisherman sweater. I figured you'd possibly like to know a bit more about it. (I'm smiling kindly and batting my lashes like "right?")

So I've worn this sweater (above) for about three years now and it's looking like it's going to be around for awhile. I have the L.L. Bean Signature Fisherman Sweater and it's seriously the knees bees. Might as well be straight off the boat from Ireland (but it's not). The collar is perfectly chunky and the yarn lives up to everything from multiple washes to cat claws and baby grips. There's nothing sexy or fancy about it, it's pretty masculine and plain, but boy does it keep me warm. The only thing you need to know is that you've really got to size up with this one.

I also bought the marled version this year, but here's the thing... I hated the way it looked when it arrived. it looked like acid washed jeans. Just no. But, when I turned it inside-out, the color was the perfect cloudy shade of blue and I went for it. Cut the tags and wear it. All the time. The other thing about the marled version is that it is softer and a bit lighter weight. Still warm, but not as bulky as a typical fisherman. If that's your thing, you know?

Years back, Alex and I both attended this leadership development institute for teachers that was essentially weekend camp for adults. We climbed ropes courses and learned how to save the bay (a big, important issue when you live on the Chesapeake). We also did all of these personality tests. One of them basically paired you with your spirit animal. Alex was a dolphin and I was a beaver. I plan and do and accomplish. If you are an ISTJ, you, too, are a beaver.

So I was pretty prepared for the impending birth of my little boy by the time I was full term. But, looking back, some things ended up being more useful than others in those first few weeks with my tiny little human. You only have a newborn for about a month and then they've already turning into a little baby so it's best to be ready in advance for that newborn phase. Below are the things we found to be lifesavers when Max was a newborn.

4Moms Mamaroo + Infant Insert: Every mother deserves this gadget. It's great for naps, when you want to eat with two hands, and for when you want to just marvel at how tiny your babe truly is. The new model is even better than the one that was available when Max was a baby and I highly recommend this goes on your short-list of registry items. 

Aden + Anais Swaddles: You need the real ones, not the Aden by Aden + Anais ones. Those are tinier and you are going to want a gigantic piece of fabric to swaddle. Another trick we learned in the hospital: use two swaddles. That second swaddle really adds comfort and tightness (plus, it's never as sloppy as the first one).

A ton of onesies: These are the best because you don't have to worry about pulling them over that floppy, screaming little head. Max lived in onesies, and since you aren't going many places with your newborn, they don't need a ton of outfits.

Summer Infant SwaddleMe: Once colic sets in, it becomes a little bit more difficult to swaddle your little babe. We preferred to use swaddle blankets, but bought a few of these when Max started fighting back. They are super easy to use and come in so many different prints. 

UPPAbaby Vista Stroller and Bassinet: We skipped buying a bassinet and put this one at our bedside. The stroller is a Godsend with the world's largest basket for all the things. We also loved plopping him in the bassinet on walks. Newborns can be fussy and so it was easy to pick him up when he would rather be carried when he was just in the pram. Plus, this is one good looking stroller. We are madly in love with it.

Pampers Swaddlers Sensitive Diapers: I'll be completely honest with you about Honest Company diapers.... they didn't fit Max as a newborn and gave him a rash. Now, he's 5 months old, wears size 2 diapers, and they are amazing. But, when he was a newborn, Pampers Swaddlers were it. We preferred the sensitive diapers for three reasons. First, they are softer. Second, they don't give off any smell when he urinates. Third, we really tried to avoid anything he could be sensitive to and so spending a little extra on sensitive diapers made sense for us.

Puj Tub: I hate infant tubs. They are ugly and take up space and you only use them for the tiniest amount of time. That's why I recommend the Puj Tub to everyone. It fits in the sink, unfolds completely flat, and isn't ugly. If you have a smaller sink, they have the Puj Flyte which works just as well.

Mustela Vitamin Barrier Cream: We've tried them all and this diaper rash cream soothes Max's little bum the most. It also lasts a long time, which helps with the price. Everything in the Mustela line is great. We wish we could afford to use their wipes on a regular basis, but we just can't. But, if you can, do it!

Solly Baby Wrap: I wore Max in this wrap everywhere. It's tricky the first time you use it, but then it is the best. I wore him around the house, out for walks... I only wish it was safe to wear him in the car with it! It's like the Moby, but lightweight and more breathable. Oh, let's take a moment and remember what newborn Max looked like all scrunched up in it (click here). 

Aden + Anais Burpy Bibs: I saved the best for last. BUY SO MANY OF THESE! One for every inch of your house. Oh my word, we always needed one of these around. Plus, they are huge and soft and also work as bibs. Also, buy the true brand ones, not the Aden brand. Those are much smaller and not as soft. Totally worth the extra few dollars.

When I was preparing to return to work people told me that I'd be thrilled to have a break from the baby during the day and that it would make me a better mom and that it would generally just be a great thing to go back to my old routine. That it would get easier with time. And my truth is that it never did.

When I returned to work in December, I never slept. I stayed up all night with Max draped over my chest breathing his milky breaths onto my shoulder as I sobbed heavy tears, sniffled snotty moans, and tried my best not to wake Alex. Max would stir to nurse every few hours, Alex would wake once or twice and try to calm me down by stroking my hair and hushing my cries, and then my alarm would sound for me to start getting ready for work. I'd get dressed, pump, and head out the door. My hour-long commute was spent sucking it up so that I would be able to walk into the office tearless, albeit exhausted. For me, it seemed terribly unnatural to wake with the sun to drive so very far away from my child for another, less important job. I grew callouses as the weeks progressed, but it never got better like everyone said.

Our decision for me to leave my job did not come easy. Alex is a teacher and we all know teachers are paid crap. Plus, I truly did love my job. It was my dream job and I loved my coworkers and I loved my company and I just, generally, loved it as much as you could ever love a job. But, it didn't take us long to realize that our current situation wasn't sustainable; it was breaking all of our hearts. So we found a way to make it work. And it's come with growing pains of its own, but doesn't everything?

When you are expecting, people love to share their favorite sentiments with you. You'll hear about how you'll never sleep through the night ever again (for awhile, but you won't mind one bit) to how you will love this little one on a level you never knew was imaginable (exceptionally true). Here's what I have to add to the mix: the exulting joy that comes with being a parent is the best feeling in the universe. It will hurt so, so awfully bad. It will make you cry and worry over things you never even knew were a concern. But it will also bring you the happiest moments of your life and teach you that the love you thought you knew was only the surface.

Every women's journey as a mother will be different and no one size fits all. And so whatever ends up being your truth as a mother, you will know it because you will wake each day with resounding joy and fall asleep each night with a full heart.

I've spent a fair amount of time recently around our expectant friends. I try my best not to dole out too much advice when we chat babies (although I did dole out my prescription of Canadian Nipple Cream the other night, but that is a different story). What I've realized, though, is that it isn't the new parents that really should be soaking in advice for those first few weeks with a newborn baby. It's those surrounding them.

One thing I learned the very hard way in my first few weeks being a mama was that you really need to stand up for yourself. Even if you never experience postpartum depression, you will get the baby blues (and gosh do they suck) and you are recovering from quite a major procedure (vaginal or c-section, they both require serious recovery). It doesn't leave you much room to be a good hostess or even a happy friend.

So, all of that is to say that I thought it would be helpful to put together a list of ways you (the loving family member, close friend, or next door neighbor) can help out new parents in those first few weeks and even months.

1. Only offer to hold the baby if mama is going to the bathroom, trying to eat with two hands, showering, or specifically asks you to. Give the baby immediately back to a parent when they have finished and look ready.

I was awful at this one and it is the biggest, most important one for you to remember. Those first couple of weeks, everyone wanted to hold Max and they kept on holding him. I cried so much behind my bedroom door because I felt like the only time I was able to hold Max was when I was nursing him. And nursing wasn't exactly a walk in the park for me. This also meant that my husband barely ever got to hold Max (because if either of us could hold him, he was letting me hold the baby since I was always in tears). The baby needs to be bonding with mom and dad and it will go very far if you support that notion.

2. Make meals that can be eaten with one hand. Bonus points for meals that don't require a ton of kitchen clean up. 

You already know to send over a meal, and goodness are they appreciated. What helps even more, though, are meals that aren't too messy, easy to eat, and can even be eaten hot or cold. You want to know what was the simplest thing for me to do? Eat a sandwich in one hand while nursing Max with the other. Casseroles are amazing, but sandwiches are helpful. too! See also: pizza delivery. <---- yes.

3. For God's sake, the only people a new mama wants staying in her house with her are her mother and her husband. End of story. If you are visiting, don't stay all day. Give her breaks.

Here's the thing (without getting too graphic). After delivery, a new mom is torn apart. There's a slew of things going on during recovery that she does not want company around for. And even if you aren't staying with the new parents, give them breaks. I remember desperately wanting a moment without company from time to time to give my husband and my mom updates on super personal things like how I still needed to have a BM or that my swelling was increasing. And as soon as company left, my top came off because I was so sore from breastfeeding. You really don't want to be around for those conversations or the toplessness, anyway.

4. Offer to run errands and do chores for the new family. Send over a care package instead of stopping by to visit. Additionally, don't ask anything (even the tiniest things) of the new mom and dad. Even if they offer to help you.

Look, mom and dad are sleep deprived, trying to get used to a new routine, learning the ropes are parenthood, and also trying to maintain their sanity and relationship all at the same time. It seems like a common sense piece of advice, but be very cognizant of what you are saying and doing.

5. A new mom should never, ever go up and down a flight of stairs unless it is completely necessary. Remind her.

Her doctor's will be telling her this, her body will be telling her this, and you should remind her. It actually meant the world to me when a guest would refuse to let me get up and move from room to room or floor to floor. 

6. Give them time.

Recently I've been inspired by Buzzfeed's look at the female body throughout history. It's a great reminder that today's "ideal" isn't the only way to see true beauty. But, more than that, I'm inspired by the models that worked with them for this video. I'm probably a bit too modest for the modeling lifestyle to begin with, but I would shrivel up at the idea of being typecast into a particular era of beauty. They are all beautiful women and I get uncomfortable at the idea that we see one body type as superior in modern society over another.

Personally, I've ended up in pretty much every non-ideal category at one time or another. Too flat chested. Too short. Too skinny. Too athletic. My arms aren't skinny enough. My legs aren't long enough. The wrong skin color. Everything. But, that's the silly thing about it.

I'm not my thinnest, or in my best shape today. But, there's something about having a baby that sheds a different light on it all. I'm happier now, with my mom arms and my soft belly, than I was at my most fit and ideal. It's not about being a sex symbol or the perfect woman. It's about being healthy and happy and fitting into clothes that make you feel good about yourself. Even if those clothes are 75% leggings and tee shirts.

So, if you haven't seen this video, I really hope you watch it below. And, on a separate note, how about that bathing suit? It's marvelous! 

Spare time... the type that comes on slowly, revs up with "I'm kind of bored" and "what should I do?" and "hmmm, I guess now is a good time for that" thoughts, culminates in the depths of half-finished DIY's and unread books, and then stops abruptly when responsibilities come back with an obnoxious "HELLO!" just when you were really getting started. Yes, that spare time.

I no longer know what that is. Here are a few examples to prove my point. 1. It has taken me three months to listen to the first three hours of Amy Poehler's Yes Please. 2. There's a gift bag filled with presents from Christmas I have yet to put away. 3. I am probably the only person in America who hasn't started binge watching Friends on Netflix yet. Although, to my advantage, I own the entire series on DVD and have watched it start to finish twice already. But, still, spare time has vacated the Byland premises.

Except this one day, a month or so back, when I totally and completely stole an entire hour of daytime to do something so mundane and boring that Alex probably thought I had eaten a bad piece of old Halloween candy and it made me insane. Whatever. I cleaned out my closet.

You guys. Here's the thing about being forced to buy brand new clothes and ignore everything in your closet for five months while you are growing a human.... you really think that you would be excited to wear all the clothes when you finally shrink back to normal size, but, really, no. Nope. Not at all.

So, with a bit of stolen spare time, I threw my closet doors open and took a good look at my inventory. So many trends. So many things I wore only out of pity for the poor piece of clothing. And then, I started realizing, I have this core pile of clothes that I really would prefer to wear over and over again, but all of that other junk was getting in the way.

Out with it all! I swear, it was the most liberating feeling to toss aside barely worn pants and shirts and, oh my goodness, the dresses! (You try nursing in a dress....) The only things that went back in my closet were the classics, the favorites, and the versatiles. In went the whites, blacks, browns, navys, greys. Out went the pinks, oranges, reds. There's a feeling I bet newly divorced women get when they change their hairstyle or get a tattoo. That's the feeling I had cleaning out my closet.

Because, you have to understand, here's the thing. Ain't nobody got time to put together an outfit with a baby! I don't get all of you mamas who have time to make these cute, on trend outfits complete with jewelry and nail polish and shoes. Ha! I can show you an outfit.... but the key, for me, is to be able to pull any random shirt and any random pant, top it with any random sweater and call it a day. Jewelry? I'm not dumb enough to get rid of any of my jewelry, but I do wear the same pearls and the same watch, along with my wedding rings, day after day.

I guess there are trendy names for this sort of wardrobe. The minimalist, the capsule, the essentials. Whatever. I am pretty sure I've been leaning this way for my entire adulthood. Buy less, choose well. Quality over quantity. Timeless will always prevail. Yup. This was coming.

Is it too early to miss being pregnant and want to do it again? I think I'm to the point where I can look back on my pregnancy like an old friend whom I hope to meet again one day, even though we weren't always on the best of terms. Mainly because my hair is falling out at an impressively speedy rate. We're talking clumps every time I jump in the shower. It is so incredibly unsexy and embarrassing.

Anyway, I've slimmed down my beauty routine quite a bit now that I have a second human to wash, dress, and care for. I've also reverted back to a few of my budget-friendly favorites because, hey, couldn't we all save a dollar? Also to note, my little sister is responsible for about half of this list. She's got this knack for finding the absolute best products.

That shampoo, for example. I was having a hair washing nightmare over the holidays. One where nothing would lather and nothing would clean and I felt dirtier after I showered than before. Well, while we were on vacation, I used her shampoo. HELLO CLEAN HAIR! I'm currently obsessed with this stuff. Same goes for the eyebrow kit. She saved me there, too. She's a genius, my little sister.

Okay, so, here are my current favorites. And yes, I have been using neosporin instead of lotion this winter. Don't knock it 'til you've tried it.

By the end of my pregnancy with Max, I was more than eager to return to my old, slimmer, more active life. I had these grand daydreams of me and him jogging around the neighborhood, stopping to nurse when he was hungry, and then heading home where I would shower, throw on my old jeans and head out to run errands.

And as much as I knew that would have to wait a bit longer once he arrived, it was still tugging at me every day while I recovered from delivery. I think that most moms focus so much on preparing for baby.... setting up the nursery, washing baby clothes, picking out big ticket items that will help baby out.... that they forget to prepare for the inevitable postpartum weeks. 

Postpartum is different for everyone, and I am sure the difference between having a cesarean and a vaginal delivery changes quite a bit, but I wanted to share my experience (and give a bit of help) to other mamas.

Our hospital discharge video spoke at lengths about taking it easy when you came home. They explicitly told me not to do housework (not even vacuum), keep off my feet, and sleep whenever I possibly could. It also warned me of the baby blues and told me to give myself a break. My doctor sent me home with more pain meds and a "no activity for at least 6 weeks" warning. Still, postpartum sucks. It's such a different experience.

I've divided this survival list up by ailment.... as I think that's the best way to do it. This first post is all about surviving breastfeeding.

BREASTFEEDING

I was adamant on nursing. To me, that was the only option. What I wasn't prepared for, though, was how much I would struggle with it for six (yes, six) weeks. The nurse at the hospital told me my nipples were short and my son's mouth was small- a bad combo for breastfeeding. So, she gave me a nipple shield and off I went. It was painful. And pretty R-rated in terms of graphic, gross imagery. Cracking, bloody, blistered nipples are no walk in the park. Especially when you have a baby feeding off of them every 2 hours around the clock. I cried and cringed and almost quit on multiple occasions. I am so glad I didn't, but without help, I would have.

Nipple shield- this helped Max learn how to open up wide enough for a decent latch. It also became a crutch for me, but I know that without it, I wouldn't have made it. Make sure a lactation consultant helps you pick the right one out. There are different sizes. I used this one, which was nice because it still gave us skin to skin contact.

Bamboobies- It's funny how I kept wondering when my milk would come in and my let down reflex would mature. But then, all at once, I started leaking. Gone are the days of walking around the house bra-less. I started off with disposable pads, but I am so glad I found Bamboobies. I have the overnights and the daytimes. They save me so much money now that I'm not throwing them away day after day. If disposable pads are more your thing, I recommend these. 

Canadian Nipple Cream- This is by prescription only, but a gazillion times better than any nipple cream you can buy off the shelf. It works immediately, can stay on when baby nurses, and feels sooooo relieving.

Gel pads- About two days postpartum, I started feeling very raw. The thought of putting on a bra pained me. These gel pads were lifesaving as I built up my toughness.

A good lactation consultant- If things head south, which you won't know if they will until they do, you're going to want to see an expert ASAP (like, that day). If you can, see one before you leave the hospital or birthing center.

A good electric pump- I was able to get this one through our insurance and I have no issues with it whatsoever. Here's the thing.... if you are like me, when your milk comes in, you will begin to get engorged and then, if you are like me, you'll end up with clogged ducts and mastitis. You do not want to end up with mastitis. The best way around that is to express express express. Make sure that the flanges are the right size, too. I had to buy smaller flanges for my pump.

A good manual pump- I didn't think I would want/ need a manual. But, then you end up going to a friend's wedding at 4 weeks postpartum and all of a sudden you really don't want to lug your electric pump out. Plus, this thing sometimes gets the job done even quicker than her bigger sister.

Breast Therapy Gel Packs- About five days postpartum I told my mom I wanted heat packs that were shaped like a donut that I could wrap around my boobs instead of using wet washcloths all of the time. She was about to sew me some when we came across this incredible product by Lanisoh. I actually still use them when I feel a clogged duct coming on. I would put them in the microwave for a few seconds and then wear them in between nursing sessions. They really helped with let down at the beginning, too. And, when you have mastitis, they are a God send.

All the water- It subsided eventually, but at the beginning, I must have turned into a camel. While Max would nurse, I would easily chug a gallon of water. Not even over exaggerating. The number one way to help a nursing mama out? Offer her a drink while she is nursing.

My Brest Friend- I didn't buy this. I wish I had instead of the Boppy. It offered more lumbar support, which is important because nursing is easiest when you have strong, upright posture.

A support system- Let's be honest. I would've quit bigtime if it weren't for having my mom there to tell me it would get better (and to tell me that it was not okay that my breast was red hot and hard.... hello mastitis), a husband who stayed up in the middle of the night so that I could hold his hand when Max started to latch on, and a family that didn't mind me nursing wherever was most comfortable for me (the couch, mainly). As much as we want to think nursing is instinctual, it isn't completely and there is a learning curve for you and the baby.

We're going on nearly five months of nursing and we plan on nursing for a long time still to come. Not everyone will have it as hard as I did, and certainly there are mamas who have it rougher. But, I am a firm believer that if you want to make it work, it will work out. It takes a decent amount of faith, but it's completely worth it.

You expect life-altering events to change people. Sure. But, the thing I can never get over is why, exactly, people change the way they do. I mean, you can connect the dots and you can place your bets and make your assumptions. But, even the people who are doing the changing don't even know what is happening. And even when the changing is complete, I bet the majority of people don't even realize what just went down.

Are you following? Right, well, let's explore. 

I've been doing a lot of throwing away of thoughts and things and places and, yes, people. The sort of purge that leaves closet shelves emptied and clears the cobwebs from the grimy corners of memory. A deep clean, if you'll allow me to stretch this metaphor one step too far, of my life.

It's not only that, though. Without even realizing it, I've become a totally different person. And never, ever, in a bagillion years, have I ever liked who I am more that right now. That's a good feeling. Especially when you are so happy with your simple, joyous life that you don't even sit back to think about how happy you are. That is when you know you are really happy.

All of this is to say, well, in case you didn't know, I quit my dream job and I'm learning how to be a mama. But, part of that is also learning how to fill my life with the simple things that I love. This blog, believe it or not, falls into that simple things category. So, I've got a lot of drafts to dust off and publish for you on everything in this ordinary life of mine.

So you know that little notes app thing on your phone? Well, thank goodness for it (I'm talking thank goodness for you), because I started jotting down things I wanted to share with you for this list of third trimester must haves in that notes app and I totally, completely forgot about half of them. Yup. I'm having postpartum amnesia and my kid is already 4 months old.

Anyway, yes, third trimester. People don't tell you how bad it is because then you wouldn't get pregnant. Shhhh... I didn't just say that.

So many things become difficult or darn near impossible as that kid keeps growing. And that is where this list comes in. Whether it's trying to shave your legs or get a good night's sleep, you'll appreciate some assistance. Here it goes:

1 A fancy razor. Like this one. Do me a favor and try shaving with a bowling ball attached to your belly. First of all, you can't see where you are shaving. Second of all, you can't stretch and bend like you used to be able to. So, why even try to lather shaving cream and then attempt to aim that razor? Trust me, this buddy is worth the money.

2. Bump Nest pillow. Never actually bought this thing. Regretted it. But I kept picturing myself ordering it only to go into labor hours later so I never bought it. BUY IT NOW. Like, even if you aren't pregnant, BUY IT NOW. Don't make the same mistake I did.

3. Tums. All the tums. In your purse, in your kitchen, on your nightstand, in your pocket. All the tums.

4. Free and Clear Laundry Detergent. Listen up. You can wash your babe's clothes in Dreft all you want, but unless you are totally cruel and a meanie, that baby is going to spend 75% of his or her time cuddled into your chest. And your partner's chest. And your friends and family. Are their shirts being washed in Dreft? Thought not. Just wash your entire household in something free and clear. We use this. That's all. Save yourself major money and send me a thank you note.

5. Pantyliners. Just trust me. You will need them.

6. Even larger clothes. When you thought you couldn't get any bigger, it happens. You will actually outgrow your maternity clothes. 

7. Hospital bags. Pack early.

8. Lullaby music you actually enjoy. The one thing I didn't actually buy into was that babies will remember the sounds you play for them in utero. Except that I would sit in Max's nursery with the lullaby from his Serenity Star playing every night. And, would you know it, that song calms him down so well!

9. A chiropractor. An adjustment will immediately ail your aching back. I swear by it.

10. Date nights. Make the time. Go on dates that will be utterly impossible with a third wheel. You'll be happy you did.

This year's adventurous trek down the road to the Y Worry Farm was made with deep, sincere intentions to find the healthiest, jolliest, most perfect Bert and Ernie pumpkins at the patch. Picking out the best Bert and Ernie pumpkins takes time, energy, and a discriminating eye because they can't just look good as individuals, they have to look good as a pair.

You see, the fat Ernie pumpkin has to be perfectly round, solid and bottom heavy so it won't fall over. But the skinny, tall Bert pumpkin also has to be perfectly smooth and then they have to be well proportioned to one another. I can imagine it's sort of like picking out the main characters in a romantic comedy- they have to be attractive and well-suited for their individual roles, but if they don't have any chemistry together, well, forget about it. Your romcom is dead.

Our pumpkin patch adventure also happened to be Max's first time out of the house anywhere other than the doctor's office. Deep. sigh. of. relief. He didn't get catch anyone's sickly germs. Or have a meltdown while we were out. He just slept 98% of the time. Surprising? Not really considering we went when he always wants to catch some zzzzz's. But, hey, he can't ever say we deprived him of seasonal festivities when he gets older. We have the pictures to prove it.

Anyway, Bert, Ernie and their tiny pet pumpkin Rubber Ducky are getting along splendidly out on the front stoop waiting for their planned surgeries (errr carvings) later this month. And, as for Max, he was the cutest little pumpkin at the patch so we decided to keep him, too.

Have you seen this?!

It's probably the best thing I've come across on Instagram since having Max. She's dressing her little babe up in a new Halloween costume each day this month and I can't get enough of it! 

In between the classics (skeleton, Charlie Brown, Hungry Caterpillar) she dresses adorable Noah up as Ludacris (!!!!), Maverick, and Jean ValJean. Snaps for Jessica. This is incredible.

Because, yes, my baby is special enough to have his entrance to this world in trilogy format. Yes.

But also, because I devoured birth stories in my last weeks as a pregnant mama-to-be and I hope that I can be of nervewracking help to other expectant mamas with this birth story business.

So, before we move along, read part one and part two. Unless you are like me and always read the last page of the book before you even start it. In that case, continue on.

Well, after hearing that I was only 4 centimeters dilated at 3:00, I let my exhaustion take over. The contractions had, up until this point, been unbearably painful however I was surviving. Breathing is difficult when you are in that much pain, but you make it work because you have to. But, it's like my willpower gave out on me after Dr. Keith checked me. Or, as Alex said, the contractions just got more intense. Which they did. I still wasn't getting a break, but sitting there in that bed hooked up to my second dosage of penicillin and fluids, I went into my own hell. It wasn't even hell, though. It was almost like a void. Alex said this was the most difficult for him because all he could do was watch me. I didn't want help and I couldn't tell him how to help if I tried.

My only guess as to how the rest of my labor would go was my mom's stories. She had long labors. Twenty-four hour labors. I had a long way to go if I was going to be like her. And, as terrified as I was at having an epidural.... the pain, the catheter, the simple idea of it.... there was no way I could labor for another twenty hours like this. I mumbled out to Alex to call our nurse, Michelle. I wanted to talk to her about pain management.

She gave me this story about how most women say the IV hurts more than the epidural. I disagree (and I told her so when I got my epidural). I will admit, however, that the pain and discomfort of the epidural was nothing compared to the contractions. Nothing. My epidural experience was a smooth one. They sat me on the edge of the bed, which, believe it or not, was nearly impossible between the weight of my baby, the monitors wrapped around me, the pain of the contractions, and the awkwardness of hospital beds. Alex sat in a chair to my side and Michelle stood facing me. She had me hold her shoulders, I dug my head into her chest and wrapped my knees around her legs. I met her hours ago, but I was gripping her like she was my mother. She helped me breathe through the contractions and the anesthesiologist poked me with the numbing needle. Now, my friends, that hurt. Low toned moaning pain, which is worse than "OUCH" pain. The good news, friends, is that the epidural itself was barely even "OUCH" pain thanks to that lidocaine shot. The biggest stress of the epidural was that I was heading to a peak of a contraction as they put in the epidural and you. can't. move. I was screaming to them so hard about how they better do it right then or I wouldn't be able to stay still. And in it went.

Apparently they always end up that way- right as you are heading up to a big, awful contraction, those suckers are put in your spine.

Michelle propped me up on my right side, turned the lights out and left to let us sleep. Alex fell right to sleep in the little makeshift bed/ couch they have for the dads. I couldn't sleep, just sat there with my mind swarming with excitement. Plus, that stupid blood pressure monitor kept squeezing my arm every five minutes.... you try sleeping with a blood pressure monitor on! By the time I calmed down enough to possibly get some shuteye, I could hear commotion in the room next to ours. It was about 5:00 and I relished in listening to the sounds of this little baby girl being born just a few yards away from me.

Michelle came back a little after 6:00 to turn me to the other side. I asked how we were doing and she said baby and me looked great. Then, she left. Except she came back maybe five minutes later to check my progress.

"You're ready to push!"

Excuse me, what?

"Yeah! His head is right there. It's time to push!"

Apparently I'd gone from 4 centimeters to 10 centimeters in about two/ three hours.

So she left to grab Dr. Keith and I shouted over at Alex who was enjoying his two hours of rest. "ALEX!!! WAKE UP!!! IT'S TIME! IT'S TIME TO PUSH! WE'RE GOING TO MEET OUR BABY!" His first reaction was how long did I sleep for?

Dr. Keith came back in and they set me up to start pushing. I still had no pressure, no urge to push... I was only a couple of hours into my epidural. They shared with me how glad they were that I got the epidural because of how fast and strong my contractions had become. And, with that, we got to work.

Pushing was such a memorable part for me. It was starting to get light outside, and inside it was just me, Alex, Dr. Keith and Michelle. Michelle and Alex held my hands and Michelle coached me through each contraction. Each time I would take a deep breath and then push to the count of ten three times through the contraction. In between contractions I asked Michelle about herself, we chatted with Dr. Keith about her baby boy at home, and we laughed about naming babies.

The nursing shift changed at 7:00 and so we told Michelle we were sad that she wouldn't be there for Max's delivery. But, to all of our surprise, 7:00 came and it was time for Dr. Keith to suit up in her gear and they called NICU in because there was meconium (Max had pooped in utero) and he would need to be checked out. They kept talking about how he had lots of hair and Alex kept looking over and seeing his head. I knew I was close to the end.

A few minutes later, with both the nightime and morning NICU staff, both Michelle and our morning nurse, Lori, I pushed real big and I immediately could tell that was my delivery push. Even with the epidural, I felt a huge sense of relief and release all at once and he was born. Out he came in that one, huge push, shoulders and all.

They had to take him to the other side of the room, under the warmers, immediately since he had pooped on himself. So Alex didn't get to cut the cord, Dr. Keith did (Alex was able to cut a ceremonial cutting once Max was stable). But, then he went over and watched everything as he got cleaned up while I kept at whatever I had to do.

I was so distracted by trying to see my baby on the other side of the room that I really didn't pay attention to the delivery of the afterbirth. I think I remember pushing when she told me to and out it came, but maybe not. Then, she had to stitch me up because pushing for thirty minutes doesn't come without a few tears I found out. Three tears, to be exact. I would get the epidural all over again just so I could live through the stitching up of my tears. Yikes. Those made recovery not very fun.

Alex was snapping pictures with my camera the entire time and bringing the camera over for me to see. Finally, probably five or ten minutes later, they brought Max over and I held him right on my chest. I can't even begin to describe how that felt. I just held him tight and kissed him and talked to him. I could've stayed there forever with my new baby.

And, oh, those cell phones of ours. Alex sent out a quick photo and a text message to our immediate family with what battery life he had left and we waited for my brother and his fiance to arrive with a charger so we could spread our happy news even further.

Max tipped the scales at 7 pounds, 5 ounces and 20 inches long. Happy, healthy, perfect, beautiful. And, as Alex told me, "You did good."

(Oh, it's best you read part one before moving along here...)

Once we arrived in our labor and delivery room, I was told I'd have 30 minutes to be free of monitors so I could walk around, hang out, do whatever. (Note: the best thing about intermittent monitoring is that it is my only concept of time.... it's the only way I can piece parts back together). We quickly settled in and searched for a phone charger. Nothing. Both of our phones were now under 20% battery life and I was, honestly, more concerned that we would run out of batteries than my labor. I had Alex text my brother and my dad and tell them both to come first thing in the morning with a charger so we would have freshly charged phones once baby arrived. Then, I made Alex turn our phones off.

So we started walking the halls with my IV strolling alongside me. It was so quiet. I couldn't figure it out. How are babies being born all around me but I couldn't hear a sound? Shocking, huh? While we were walking I felt a few contractions, but nothing I couldn't make it through. To be honest, walking was boring. I was happy when it was time to head back to the room to be monitored again.

By now it was a little after 1:00 and I was back in the bed with all of those contraptions attached to me. My first penicillin bag hadn't finished yet and the nurse noticed it was barely dripping. When she opened it to drip faster, let me tell you, it burned. Oh man. So during the next thirty minutes of monitoring, Alex and I were able to carry a conversation in between the contractions. He could tell when one was coming and we'd just be quiet while I breathed through them. They were getting pretty painful at this point. Sort of like period cramps, but worse. Anyway, I still found them relatively manageable in the grand scheme of labor.

After I was relieved of the monitors, I was also unhooked from my IV bags because that penicillin drip was finally done. We went to walk the halls again because, well, what else do you do at 1:45 a.m. in a labor and delivery ward? This time, however, the contractions weren't as easy to muddle through. They were coming every minute and I would stop, push against the wall, and squeeze Alex's hand. I kept rushing past any sign of nurses or visitors to hide around a corner to go through the next contraction. Hidden, I would sway back and forth and try my best not to moan out load. The most terrifying feeling became not the contraction, but the beginning of the contraction, because you knew what was ahead but you couldn't stop it. We walked one loop of the ward and I rushed back into the room as another contraction started. Alex said we were gone maybe five minutes.

Back in the room, I asked Alex to hold a cold washcloth on my pelvis right where the contractions were. That worked for a little bit. Then, I had him rub my back. The first contraction I wanted it up and down my spine, the next contraction I wanted it the exact opposite way. It was ridiculous how everything worked for about 30 seconds, and then I'd need something else. Eventually I ended up bracing myself in the bathroom doorway. Poor Alex just stood and watched as I rocked myself back and forth in the threshold. I remember looking in the mirror and realizing just how quickly I'd become exhausted.

Sometime later (I guess half an hour after I started my last walk), the nurse came back to hook me up again for monitoring. I had her give me a birthing ball and she hooked me up while I rocked on the ball next to my bed. Bouncing, rocking, swaying.... everything worked a little bit better on the birthing ball. We kept looking over at the monitors at my contractions. They weren't giving me a break. They were starting to plateau and nothing was helping.

When the nurse came back to take off my monitors, I went straight for the bathroom. I had to go pee, and then I was thinking I would shower. Why not, right? Well, there was fresh blood when I went to the bathroom so I made Alex call the nurse right back because there's nothing like fresh blood to terrify a mom in labor. As he was getting off the phone with her, I started vomiting. I wasn't nauseous at all. I was just projectile vomiting over and over and over again. All over the bathroom.

The nurse came back and said, "Why didn't you tell me you were nauseous?" to which I replied, "Because I wasn't." Well, she made me get in bed and hooked me back up to the IV for some fluids since I'd vomited everywhere. I was also practically naked at this point and asking for the room to be cooler (it was already as cold as it would go). You see, it turns out you abandon any modesty you may have when you go into labor. Things had gone from bad to very bad in a matter of maybe ten/ fifteen minutes.

So there I was on my IV in the bed again and to be honest, there wasn't much more I was up for at that point. The walking, the birthing ball, the swaying back and forth... nothing mattered anymore. My pain management was literally bracing myself against those plastic arms on the side of the bed and hoping they wouldn't break (because then what would I push against?). Poor Alex just watched me and I just stared into space.

That's the thing. I got to a point where screaming, moaning, crying... the pain level is past that. You are just there in a mountain of pain, just there working through to the other side.

Dr. Keith came back to check on me. "The contractions got stronger, huh?" And then she checked my cervix.  About four centimeters.

She had got to be kidding me. I felt completely deflated. At midnight I was three centimeters and now, three hours later, I was only one more? I was doomed to have a cesarean... there was no way I was making it to 10 centimeters by that evening.

I asked if baby was doing okay. I asked if I was doing okay. Calm, quiet answers. "Your body is doing exactly what it needs to and your baby is doing exactly what he needs to. You two are doing great." No, my body needed to hurry the %$3!@% up and cough out a baby.

My lovely, kind, gentle doctor exited the room again and left me on that bed where the "break" I was getting in between contractions was literally seconds every few minutes. It was like five to seven minutes of hell followed by ten seconds of rest. Over and over again. And I was barely even halfway there.