Back at it...

I think I have just about survived my first day at work. And I am proud to say that I have not shed a tear. Yesterday however was another story. I think I pretty much cried all afternoon. My hubby started out understanding and considerate and by the evening he was frustrated. I understand where he was coming from, I was pretty much ruining my last night before I was back to work.
I hope that I get home and my house is still standing and everyone is snug in their beds. Then the guilt will lessen and perhaps make it possible to sleep. Is it weird that I am excited that I get to wake the baby for a night time feeding just so I can hold him in my arms a few hours sooner? I guess there is a plus to baby having MCADD tonight.
So I work in a hospital in the MRI department and I have a fairly decent schedule for being fairly low on the totem pole. I work 12 hour shifts 3 days a week till about 10 at night. The problem is they are changing up our staffing model, and so far the plans for the future absolutely stink for my family. I am really trying to not freak out.

Do I want to work every evening till midnight leaving my hubby alone to put kids to bed? Leaving the only time for yard and house work on the weekends. And no time for my spouse and I.

Do I want to work every weekend making it impossible for us to leave town but making it so that I can tuck my babies into their beds at night?

It is seeming that we are going to have to make some hard choices......I have been trying not to freak out thinking that somehow it is going to work out ok but it is not looking likely. Really not exactly what I wanted to return to.

Defeated?

I wake up in the morning vowing to be a better mother. And by the end of the day I am hoarse from telling my daughter 100 times to leave her brother alone or to stop tormenting the dog. I feel defeated thinking how much I would have rather been hoarse from singing songs and laughing.

I wake up vowing to eat better and by lunch time I have been to the pantry more times then I can count. I feel defeated thinking how much I want to lose this last bit of baby weight.

I wake up vowing to run my old loop around the neighborhood and I feel defeated when I am too tired to even try or I only make it a few yards farther then last time.

I wake up vowing to complete all of my physical therapy exercises and feel defeated when I make it only through a fraction of them.

I wake up vowing to get the toilets scrubbed and the floors clean and feel defeated when all I manage is to get the toys picked up or the dishes put away. (notice I said or, it is usually an or, not and)

I wake up vowing to be a better wife and yep you guessed it... I feel defeated when I can't remember if I even asked him how his day was.

Am I defeated? Not hardly. I would be defeated if I didn't wake up and try to be better. And I really feel that if I keep trying I will get better at something if not all things. I am just going to keep on, keepin on.

An hour really does make a difference.

After my rant that night the baby has slept from alarm to alarm. And I must say it is such a blessing! An hour really does make a difference. I won't lie to you and tell you that I am not dragging my tail every afternoon, I am still tired but there is light.

This light is coming at the perfect time because I am gearing up to head back into the work force. I am full of anxiety!

Will my baby survive without me?

Will my family watching him go crazy with my constant phone calls and questions about his eating?

Will I be around for his first giggle?

Will I survive?

I know that I survived my return to work after having my daughter but this is a little different. Does everything have to be about MCADD? The answer is: not everything but most things. The best part is that it feels as though less and less is about MCADD.

What a difference an hour makes.

Ok not really. I was entirely gleeful heading home from the appointment with our geneticist to find out exactly the value of an hour but for some reason God has different ideas.

Our appointment went well and we were given the go ahead to go four hours between feedings. Problem is our house guests last weekend headed back to Portland, their daughter leaving behind a little bug she had. Now everyone, except for me, has the sniffles. The sniffles to our 11 week old baby boy has left him with fitful sleep. I was so excited to find out what it felt like to add an hour to my alarm clock, unfortunately I am still waiting to find out.

I know that I am having a pity party right now and truly I am more worried about my families health then getting more sleep. So far no one has spiked a fever and everyone is eating well. That, in my life, is the most important thing.

Calling all FOD moms....

We have our first appointment with the geneticist this Wednesday. I am compiling my list of questions for him and don't want to miss any important questions since he isn't local and only comes here quarterly.

I am asking for your help....is there anything that you all think is important to ask?

Thank you for everything these past two months!!!

First things first

We had two firsts this weekend.

The first, first....

Immunizations! As we approached my sons two month check up I was excited to see how much he had grown. I see it daily from the new smiles to the new cooing to the rolling over to the holding his head and chest up. I know he is getting chubby and stronger by the day but for some reason having the baby's doctor notice makes a world of difference. My victory for all the sleep less nights. (and I mean sleep less rather then sleepless, there is some sleep just less). But with the 2 month check up also came the immunizations.

As the day approached I got sick to my stomach. With my daughter her "shots" made her fussy and feverish. I was worried that the same would go for my son. Then I got to thinking, "does that mean I need to feed him more often?"...."What did they tell me to do if he gets a fever?"....

Well he and I both survived. He did get fussy and as instructed I gave him a dose of tylenol. Turned out though that he was merely gassy. So I had to laugh at myself.

The second first....

We took our little guy camping. If you can really call it camping. We stayed in an RV park in something more like a condo then a camp trailer.

I was a little worried about going. My sons immunizations were the same day and I was already nervous about that, and there is always that little worry in the back of my mind, what if he won't eat? But I came armed with bottles and formula and I knew where the nearest ER was.

I don't want his diagnosis to change our lives drastically and I don't want him to miss out on a single thing in life. I do realize that he won't remember this camping trip. He will see pictures when he is older and probably not care all that much but his sister loved it. She loved every minute of it and that made it worth it.

Bruneau Sand Dunes