A Lesson in Listening...

Let me first start this post with a HAHAHA at my resolve to blog daily. Considering it's been over a year since my last blog post, I think it's safe to assume I'm a blog-fail. Now that that's out of the way, I wanted to address something I've seen happening SO MUCH in recent days. Also, I don't normally swear in my posts, but I did a few times here. Apologies in advance, let's just call it 'fitting for the theme' this time.

We lost. We're lost. We lost our way. We're stumbling in the dark.

However you want to put it.

I'm not just talking about the election, although, I gotta tell you - I can't wait until we're all complaining about something else. But what I really want to address is how we have strayed off the path of being human. Our lack of empathy and compassion for one another has flown the coop. That's okay, if you've always been an asshole (pardon my French) but I have watched [seemingly] nice, articulate people turn into vapid, uncaring, my-shit-doesn't-stink, out and out jerks. I'm talking to you, yes, YOU. If the shoe fits, of course. If I said something and it struck a nerve, take a sec and do a little self observation. If it didn't bother you personally, but you have seen the same prevailing attitude, I'm glad to call you friend. 

The other day I had a horrible experience. HORRIBLE. At least it was to me. And then I had someone basically tell me I was overreacting to a situation I should be grateful for. So here's what happened: I walked into the SICU (Surgical Intensive Care Unit) following dad's lung operation. As I walked down the halls, the cacophony of beeps and monitors going got louder and louder. There was no escaping it. I apparently stopped, froze and began crying. JUST LIKE BEFORE when the lady in the electric cart at Publix backed up and the beeping started, a week after Paisley had come home. They had to call Kevin, because I couldn't drive. So back to the SICU, I sat down in the chair and tried my hardest to do those breathing exercises they taught me, like I was meditating. And the next thing I knew, the nurses were asking if I was okay and waking me up. I don't know if I was so exhausted that I relaxed myself into sleep, or if I passed out. No joke.

Later in conversation, we were talking about how we call it PTSD of the NICU. This someone else felt it was overreaction, because... get this, our baby is healthy now and home and not dead and therefore we had no right to feel traumatized from our stints in the NICU. We should've got over it and moved on. I won't defend our feelings, but I will say, don't think for a second that we don't appreciate what we have or how blessed we are. But we went through the toughest times any family should go through... not once, but THREE times. We witnessed, with heartbreaking sadness, a family play with their daughter's toes one day, and walk out with NOTHING the next. Torn between joy that we were not in their situation, devastation for their loss, and guilt for being grateful. We drove on less than 2 hours of sleep back and forth for nearly a year if you add up each child's time in the NICU. We woke with that terrified feeling that having left the hospital for any length of time was a sign that we didn't love our child enough to stand bedside for 24 hours. PTSD is not reserved simply for members of the military, or survivors of a shooting. It's any time of stressful trauma that is inflicted on someone. And for anyone to diminish someone else's pain as if it were insignificant because they are alive to talk about it today... you sir, are ASS!

I'm so exhausted from hearing people with total intolerance to those around them. I don't expect the average stranger to care about my life. But people who are 'close' or friends or even family, if you've found your compassion meter is empty, please get it refilled... or go stare in the mirror and tear yourself down. People struggle with so much these days. Parents struggle to raise their children amidst chaos and criticism every day. Yet not one of those critics are volunteering to do it for them or even offer a hand. We turn a blind eye to those in need, cast aspersions at the clothes someone is wearing or what they look like. And yet, so many are 'too busy' to volunteer, or give back. We have a society filled with people who have hidden illnesses and then SUDDENLY we are doctors and assessors... and yes, judges. I say this all, and you may think, wow talk about the kettle. I know I am not blameless. But I'd like to think we are constantly, myself included, maybe myself ESPECIALLY...trying to be better.

Better people. Better friends. Better spouses. Better daughters. Better mothers. 

So this beautiful Sunday morning, I sit on the couch, with laundry on one side & papers to sign for school on the other. One leg up, because I broke my toe (AGAIN) and watching Sherlock together. And we are taking turns telling each other what we like about the other person. I'm filling up my compassion meter, and adding a tankful of patience while I listen to what is important. Reminding myself that having empathy for one situation does not equate to antipathy for another. Reminding myself that we are human and fallible. Reminding myself that a little compassion goes a long way.

What would you do with #MoreMinutes - treasure the time you have and make the most of life!

This beautiful lady is my mother - I cherish the friendship we have and the bond that is evident for my own daughters to witness and hopefully want for themselves as they mature. 

Today, as she does every 1.5 years or so, she donated just over 13" of her hair to Wigs for Kids - I love her heart and that she always gives back to so many. While at Great Clips she saw a sign that asked what she would do with #moreminutes - without batting an eye or pausing to think about it, she said she'd spend more time with her granddaughters which is hard for her to do with a full time job and somewhat limited mobility. 

I would wish for her to have some more minutes just to go do something fun with the girls. It always seems like the only time she can spend with them is when we're running errands or going to appointments. She's been a rock for me during the trials of having had 3 preemie babies in the NICU and I honestly don't even want to try and imagine what my life would be like when we run out of those minutes. Don't take time for granted. That's my PSA for today!

KUBKID building blocks by Janod... the toys that grow!

With the celebration of Paisley's 1st birthday, she ended up with some pretty cool toys. I have to say that some of these toys are just absolutely amazing! Why didn't they have this when I was little?! I love the combination of educational and creative and fun all in one. A particular gift that really stood out for me were these Janod KubKid Building Blocks. Enough so, that I wanted to make sure I shared with all of you. Each block/cube has a different side and they make up 6 different illustrations. Janod is an educational toy manufacturer based out of France, however, you can order from most retailers such as Amazon or Barnes & Noble or Scholastic.

They blocks are hollow and designed with high color graphics of farm animals. It's fun to watch Paisley learn to stack and build with the blocks. They are rated 18months and up, which I imagine is meant for the puzzle aspect. Each side put together creates a vibrantly colored farm animal. Absolutely adorable. I've watched Paisley play with them until she falls asleep, as they are constantly entertaining to her! Whether you are giving these as a gift for a child, or for your own child, these are highly recommended! I think I may just pick up a set to drop off at the girls' daycare.

Janod fb page: Click here!    Janod twitter: Click here!

Life goes by in the BLINK of an eye!

Truer words have never been spoken! I'm not sure when it happened, or how even... it seems like we were on the countdown until Paisley could come home from the hospital. Then just days until Linda (MIL) came in from England, then the holidays, then the pre-op for each surgery... and we were saying.. oh, that's next week. And oh, that's in 2 weeks... and then suddenly - it's AUGUST! 

The preparations for a celebration of a life hard fought and won were looming in the back of my mind. I mean, how do you not go overboard? But how do you reign yourself in from being psycho-crazy-decorating-madness-mama? Thankfully, with the help of a realistic, yet supportive hubby - and some really great friends!

I wanted to show you some of the prep that went into this occasion, and then of course, some pics of the party and some pics of the birthday girl!

Making BUNTING. My friend KeKe and I decided we were going to hand paint ... that's right, HAND PAINT bunting for the party. I went a little nuts and said something like, "Hey let's make this look like a used car-lot!" And the next thing you know, I'm painting a scene from Super Mario Bros on a triangular piece of canvas at 2am. *shakes head* At one point in time, we roped the guys into painting with us, but our OCD nature took over and they were quickly fired.

Rolling LUMPIA. *This part of the post is directed at Katie, since I'm SO NEGLECTFUL and constantly forget to email her my recipe*

Recipe (this makes approximately 100 rolls):
Lumpia Wrappers (aka Spring Roll Wrappers)
1- head of cabbage
2c- carrots
1c- snap/snow peas or green beans
2.5 lbs.- boneless, skinless chicken breast cooked or ground beef uncooked

- Use a food processor, it's so much easier! Food process everything until it is minced. Mix with 2 egg yolks (separate the whites for later). Add seasoning. *As with all my recipes for lumpia, pancit, etc... if you don't eat a particular thing, don't add it. Ex: you don't eat cabbage, you can sub bean sprouts. Or sub ground pork for ground beef. Season with seasonings you prefer. Some people prefer salt and pepper. or some prefer a little more spice. I typically always add in some sort of meat tenderizer, because it does help when cooking.*

Deep fry lumpia until they turn golden in color and float in the pan. If you are using the precooked chicken, you only need to cook for a short time.

Big THANK YOU to Jenn, Rosemary and KeKe for your lumpia rolling slave labor assistance! And a big THANK YOU to Martha and Mary... for everything else :)

As you can see, the party was a success, the birthday princess made out like a bandit, and we are once more reminded how quickly time flies, how much our family is blessed and how grateful we are to have the friends that we have! Thank you to everyone who came out, who sent well wishes, who helped us through this year... just... THANK YOU. Know that while our time is hectic and limited these days, our appreciation for our steadfast friends is strong and never wavers. Thank your blessings, appreciate the silver linings, and share in the happiness when you have it. Oh, and share the cupcakes too!

Also, a big humongous, long drive thank you to Jane & her daughter, and Ate Gina & Uncle Jimmy and family and honorary Aunt Mary - for making that drive out to come party with us!

Trying out the Contours Twist Grow With Me seat

We recently had the opportunity to test out the Contours Twist Grow With Me Seat in the Adkins Asylum. It's always fun to try out new gear, and as our family grows, we find our needs for different baby gear adapts as well. We really loved the design and the bright color selection that it comes in. But more importantly, we loved the fact that the foam insert comes out completely for cleaning! If you have children, you know there's really never a time when "clean" and "eating" are used in the same sentence!

We used this for feeding Paisley, who at the time was 7 months old. She seemed to be dwarfed by the seat, but then she is particularly tiny. Ella tried it out as well, and she managed to fit in just fine - however, we buy things that will grow, so I wouldn't necessarily suggest buying it for a 3 year old with the intent to use it long term, if you get my understanding. Paisley seemed to enjoy it though, as she liked to sit up and look around.

As for Kevin and I, it really made feeding easier and the Contours Twist Grow With Me seat is very versatile for all types of feeding. We have a counter height table and stools, so finding a highchair to work with that isn't always easy. I loved how I was able to strap it onto one of our stools (with a back) and sit and feed her, especially post-surgery. Kevin, on the other hand, likes to sit on the floor and feed the baby. So it worked for both of us! We're particularly fond of the Contours line of baby gear. They are consistently striving to make something that is good for more than a 3 month use. They care about safety and are always open to suggestions. I love their customer service, having dealt with them when we purchased our Contours Options Elite Tandem Stroller!

Click here to read my review of the Contours Twist Grow With Me Seat on Amazon.

Blue Water Seduction Series by Ava Branson

On a personal note... There are few opportunities when I feel I get some bragging rights, but in this instance, I'm going for it! I read a book by author Ava Branson (contemporary romance) and ended up becoming friends with her on facebook. Lo and behold, we discovered she lived only a stones throw away from me. Our fb friendship became a series of messages and giggles, a severe love of wine and a lost purse, and a trip to the beach and I was never more excited to have been able to celebrate Paisley's 1st birthday - and that both she and her daughter attended. Nothing cooler than having one of your go-to authors become your real life friend! Having said all that, you also get a bit of a glimpse of the trials and struggles an indie author really goes through to get out there. As well as the triumphs and personal accomplishments! 

I recently attended IndieBookFest - which if you didn't go this year, definitely make it a point to go next year! Not only can you meet your favorite authors, but you can meet new ones, attend panels, learn if you want... it's a wealth of information and wrapped up in one big class act! In any event, Ava was attending, along with several other new and seasoned authors, and it was so cool to hear her talk about this past year. 8 books in less than 2 years, that's all I can think.... whew!

Ava Branson (far right) with other indie authors at the IndieBookFest author panel

Time to get bookish! 

I LOVE A GREAT BEACH READ

What that means is, sometimes I just love a go-to-grab that I can pack in my bag, read at the beach, or in the doctor's offices or wherever. The Blue Water Seduction Series is awesome because not only does it give me my HEA, as they aren't so heavy that I walk away needing an ugly cry, box of tissues and lots of concealer. Although... I did get a bit watery-eyed during a read of Ava's most recent book coming out! But also, I love the fact that they take place.. on the beach! or the ocean... it works, I can truly transport myself.

The first book in the series, which ultimately led to this astonishing friendship, is Rough Seas. I loved this story of a young woman and an accomplished CEO. Who doesn't like the thought of being swept off your feet by a gorgeous Greek yachting magnate? Thought so! Here was my review... but honestly, if you really want to know JUST. READ. THE. BOOK. 

The second book, called Fiery Seas, was just as tempting. Talk about hot! If the cover model alone doesn't lure you in... Ahem, anyways, I loved the chemistry between the main characters and I loved reading little snippets about the characters from the first book. What's nice about this series is that even though it's technically a "series" - they are all standalone. So you don't feel like you have to read all of them in order to know what's going on... although I highly recommend reading them, because you'll definitely want to! You can find my Amazon review for this here.

The most recently released book (look out! there is another one coming out shortly though) was Sapphire Seas. A lot of this takes place in hot and sultry Belize. But what I loved about this particular book was our heroine's go getter take no BS attitude! She's already accomplished and in fact, brought more to the table than her counterpart. She wasn't just swept off her feet and actually stands her ground on several issues. I love it when the heroine can do that without losing her femininity and said as much in my review. Definitely another book worth reading... now to wait with bated breath for the release of Ava's next book, Sensuous Seas, to come out! 

Another great thing about Ava Branson is that she is FAN-tabulous! What I mean by that is that she is great with connecting with her fans! You can follow her on fb and twitter, and even see much of her inspiration for her books on Pinterest! It's so awesome. Once you've read her books, hop on over to her webpage and sign up for her newsletter!

facebook: Click here!

twitter: Click here!

pinterest: Click here!

All Things Colleen Hoover!

I started out reading Colleen Hoover when our book club, Between the Covers, suggested Maybe Someday as the Book of the Month. I totally wasn't prepared for an author such as this. To say I was blown away... literally blown. away. by her writing is/was an understatement. Every book I've had the pleasure of reading since then, has continued to surpass my expectations!

My favorite all time of Colleen's is Confess and it's only been out about a month. But in that time frame, I've read it about ... oh 4 times already. I loved every aspect about it. Here is my review of Confess by Colleen Hoover:


Prepare to lose a little bit of yourself...

Yet another WOWSA from Colleen. It goes without saying that I'm a Colleen Hoover fan. I think her books just continuously surprise me for the better and offer something new for me to love. I loved the entire premise of this book. I loved that it was based off of real confessions from her readers, I loved that there is an artist (Danny O'Connor) who produced the stunning artwork that is not only read about but SEEN in the book, no matter the digital or paperback version. I loved everything about it. I read it with almost a bit of trepidation, in fear I might read my own confession in there!

Another reviewer mentioned that they didn't like at the end how there was this culmination of issues and plot twists... and I can see that. However, I truly felt that this is a typical style for Colleen. I don't necessarily see that as a downside though. I gave this book 4.5★ only because I had the most difficult time following the jump at the very end. I was at a loss as to how any relationship could exist with such a secret as large as that between them. But life is unpredictable as I well know, and this was only the beginning of theirs. So who really knows what their future holds? Maybe one day down the road a true revelation will exist.

On another note, I loved what this book brought out in her readers. As a fan of Colleen, I follow her on social media. The honesty and confessions that this book brought out were amazing. heartbreaking. wrenching. disgusting. hilarious. Like with everything she touches, a wealth of emotions were brought forth. And OMG the gnomes!

Thank you Colleen.

Links to my other Colleen Hoover reviews...

Confess  on Amazon or GoodReads

Maybe Someday  on Amazon or GoodReads

Ugly Love  on Amazon or GoodReads

Why I let a stranger yell at my child...

First off... let me start by saying that my husband Kevin and my best friend Martha are my everyday heroes. Regardless of whether what they did was their "natural instinct" to try to help or not. They did. So the prelude to this story is this:

Saturday afternoon, we went to our local Education in the Park festivities. Our daughter, Laurel, is in a school production and she was with her theatre troupe performing a few songs from their play that will be showing in May. It was blistering, sweltering hot that day, and sitting under the shaded canopy didn't make it any cooler in my opinion. Their performance was the last set on that stage (thank goodness) and as everyone started filing out and leaving, you find you have the occasional group of 3-4 gabbing parents talking. I was showing off Paisley to one off the parents who'd last seen me when I was pregnant. I wandered over to where Kev was putting Ella in the stroller and Martha was talking to the kids and almost as a unit, we looked over at an elderly gentleman, who, minutes before had been standing, but was now hunched over. Without a word of communication, aside from, "Is he okay?" - both Kevin and Martha jumped to their feet and rushed over to this man.

We didn't know him, and obviously, several other people didn't either...as they scurried to the winds as quick as can be. There's no blame there. I guess for some that instinct to help just isn't ingrained in you. I'm grateful to be surrounded by people where the opposite is the standard though. I'm still holding Paisley on my hip, the girls have taken the man's granddaughter (or great?) to the Crayola tent a few tents over, to color, and I'm moving chairs to clear the area and getting water. Another lady calls for a medic. It's all a matter of minutes lapsing, and a blur of separate entities doing what they know how to do as best as they can.

And then I look over to the stroller and I notice something that stands out with appalling clarity. It's empty. Where has Ella gone? I scream out Laurel's name, and I guess by the tone of my voice, it signifies to Kev that I'm upset, but I wave him off, because... he's busy helping to save this man's life. But my heart is racing as I flag down an event worker and inform both her and Laurel and Emily all at the same time that my little girl is missing. I'm bumbling through an explanation of what she's wearing... blue jean shorts with green threads. I don't know what the green threads have to do with it, but I repeated it several times over. I did the frantic rushed gaze through the crowd, running from bounce house to bounce house. Stopping at the sno-cone tent to see if she managed to sneak a 2nd cone in, despite me saying no. The lady on the golf cart drives up to me a few minutes later, empty seat beside her, asking me something. But all I saw was the empty seat and so I didn't hear what she was saying. Finally she says, "Ma'am, is that your little girl?!" and I look, but no... I told her she was THREE, that is obviously like a 1 or MAYBE 2 year old. ... and then the adult moves out of the way and I see a man holding her hand helping her to find me. I come running up, and he says, "Are you her Mommy?" and before I can answer, he says to Ella, "Is this your Mommy?" and she says yes, and hugs my leg. And he pries her from my leg, and proceeds to yell and lecture her. And I let him.

That's right. I let this stranger yell at my child. Because EVERY THING HE SAID WAS TRUE. It was everything I was going to say. And it probably meant more coming from him.

He told her how dangerous it was and to NEVER run away from Mommy. And to NEVER slip out of your stroller (mind you she unbuckled herself not an hour later and tried to slip out...) and he went on and on, and she cried and then my 3 year old said, "I understand" and he stood up and hugged me. I didn't catch his name. In a lineup, I'd never be able to pick him out. But I'll be forever grateful. I vaguely recall him mumbling that he has a little girl too and he could only imagine my fear.

There's no real moral to this. I let a stranger yell at my child because it was important that someone impart how scary this could have really been. My husband and my best friend helped save that man's life. Not through any procedure, but because they cared and showed compassion and jumped in to help. He may have had a heat stroke, or a heart attack, who knows, we let the professionals take over when they got there. Our day had a happy ending, but it could have ended so much differently. I hope you understand.

Why We Walk

Many of you know about our commitment to the March of Dimes, and that we walk and fundraise every year for the March for Babies. Sure, we've had preemies. Sure, we think it's a great organization. And yes, we truly do believe that the March of Dimes is dedicated to healthy pregnancies & babies! But for us, and most family teams that participate, it is so much more and there is normally a defining moment for Why We Walk.

At the March for Babies 2014, I was pregnant with Paisley then (upper left)

Lined up for the March (upper right) With our company team, Family Health Care (bottom)

When I spoke at a kickoff campaign last year for the first time, telling our story, I brought myself to tears. Not that I was that eloquent. pfft. No, I started crying because the memory I shared was SO VIVID, even 2 years later, with a happy, healthy baby...correction, toddler! sitting there wreaking havoc in the room. I am glad for the opportunity for donors and fundraisers alike to get the chance to see firsthand a family that has been neck-deep in the NICU, with firsthand experience to what kinds of education and support the March of Dimes provided. But more importantly, I wanted to share what was the driving force and motivation behind our commitment. I wanted them to know .... and so, with just under 2 weeks before we walk again, I want you to know as well, exactly Why We Walk.

...it does not get any easier - no matter how many times you've done it before...

It was discharge day for me, March 4th, 2011. I'd had an emergency C-section, and had been deemed fit to go home. I was ready to a certain extent. Certainly sore, who isn't? But mentally... I had no idea. They discharged me, and Kevin helped me down the stairs to Ella's room. By then she had been moved to Pod 8, and we had the routine of checking in, scrubbing, dropping off breastmilk - down to a science. I went in and I held her hand through the incubator window. We stayed for several hours, until shift change, and then reluctantly made our way down to the car. We were going home, without our baby. But I was determined to be a grown-up about this. I knew she was in the best of care, that her doctors and nurses were highly competent medical professionals. In fact, I knew she was receiving better care than I could possibly give at that moment. But we were leaving our baby. That's what it boiled down to in my head. I remember getting in the car, Kevin making sure everything was packed up tightly, even coming over to check that I was seatbelted properly. And then we started the drive home. We made it about 4 minutes. Right after you get on I-4 off Kaley, about 20 feet further... before he pulled over to the shoulder. And he reached over the console, held my hand and we sat there in silence, crying. My silent tears eventually turned into sobs, because in my head, all I could hear was this voice saying, "THIS IS NOT RIGHT! This is NOT the way it should be! No parents should ever have to leave their babies!" and I think I was hoping my crying would drown out that voice. That is Why We Walk.

Fast forward 2 years later... the same scenario is playing in my head. I was discharged just 2 days after Paisley was born. I pep-talked myself into handling this better. "We've been through this before" - "Same old song and dance" - "She's in the BEST CARE POSSIBLE" - "You can handle this!" - "You have 2 babies at home that need you" and again "We've been through this before"  But no matter the litany of go-getter-you-can-do-it phrases I told myself... it didn't make it any easier. I didn't even make it out of the driveway in front of the hospital before I gave in to the tears. This time, Kevin just pulled into the parking garage and we sat there together, holding hands until he got out of the car and came and just held me. Some things make a marriage fall apart and some make them stronger. I like to think we've been through the sickness and worse part of our vows in the first few years of our marriage, so we should have smoother sailing for the rest. But that moment there, was this glaring truth that it does not get any easier - no matter how many times you've done it before. And we've been down this route 3 times too many. That is Why We Walk.

We hope that one day, enough research, education and treatments will have accumulated to the point where no parents will ever experience the devastating loss of a child be it a miscarriage or stillbirth (the statistics for how common pregnancy loss occurs is staggering!). We hope that one day NICU nurseries will not be filled to capacity. But for us, the Adkins Family aka Team Adkins Asylum, we hope that when your little bundle of joy is brought into this world... that you get to experience the JOY of bringing her home, surrounded by family and love and never the loss, devastation, and even guilt... of driving away that first time. That is Why We Walk.

How can you help? Donate, Walk/Join/Create a Team, Start a fundraiser!

March for Babies 2015 - Just around the corner!

March for Babies 2014, Osceola County
I was pregnant with Paisley here!

Last call for Team Adkins Asylum t-shirts! Feel free to order one if you want to support a good cause (proceeds are donated to the March for Babies) or if you're just a plain ol' T-Shirt junkie and want to wear a shirt with a baby in [fictional] straight jacket! I will close out orders for shirts on Wednesday, April 15th (Paisley will be 8 months old!) Thank you again to everyone who has supported our campaign and the March of Dimes! There's still time to donate or sign up to walk. We walk in just under 2 weeks!!! We have raised $835 of our $1000 goal! 

How can you help? Here are your options:

1) Sign Up to walk
https://www.marchforbabies.org/Registration/Signup/…

2) Donate to our team fundraising page via the March of Dimes
https://www.marchforbabies.org/LaurElora

3) Order a TEAM ADKINS ASYLUM t-shirt
http://tinyurl.com/AdkinsAsylumTshirtOrderForm

And in case we haven't said it yet... THANK YOU

heart emoticon
One more thing... Find out why WE walk!

A bicyc... erm, stroller built for TWO!

We have been running back and forth trying to find a stroller/pram that will work for both Ella and Paisley now that Paisley will be coming home soon. Who knew what an adventure that would be?! After visiting several different retailers, we had decided to go the route of a tandem stroller - mainly because I have difficulty pushing a single stroller through a doorway... so the thought of trying to maneuver one twice the width was a bit daunting to me. Let me first start off by stating that we borrowed a friends stroller and ultimately decided that it wasn't going to work. That's what brought us to the Contours Options Elite Tandem Stroller. We bought this at BuyBuyBaby, and I very rarely endorse any particular store... HOWEVER - we received the BEST customer service. The most knowledgeable floor associates and helpful management team I have ever had the pleasure of working with. Just wish they were closer to where we lived. In any event, the bottom line is that we LOVE our Options Elite. 

As seen in the picture below, we love the versatility of the carriage with the seats! With Paisley being so tiny, having come home from the hospital at just under 5lbs., we had to get a certain car seat. Unfortunately, it was not compatible with many other travel systems. We loved that the Options Elite came with a universal adapter bar (be sure to check that your model car seat works, as not every seat will work). As she transitioned into the regular seat, she was able to sit upright and look around. We like to face Ella and Paisley to one another, as they like to giggle and stuff. But there are also occasions when we just like to flip them around as well. One of the major selling points for me was the side zipper in the underneath storage. There is nothing more frustrating than trying to get something out from under the stroller and having to fight because the seat is there. The Options Elite has a zipper on both sides. That's right, BOTH SIDES. I loved it!

   

I honestly only had 2 complaints. 1 - it's a bit bulky/heavy for my liking. Mind you, this is a double stroller. I have to remind myself of this. And while yes, the aluminum frame is more lightweight than others... I had a bit of difficulty picking it up to put in the truck. 2 - accessories are not included. And by accessories, I mean the drink tray particularly. I've never seen a stroller that didn't come standard with the tray... so it was a bit of a surprise to learn that those were additional. We did get them, mind you. Along with the rain covers, the parent console (a neoprene like zippered bag with areas for your phone and a bottle) and the shopping bag attachment if you happen to be out and about with only 1 child. 

After the purchases though, I'm a happy camper. The 4 wheels handle most terrains easily, and you can easily push the stroller with one hand, although 2 hands on anything I'm steering makes me feel more comfortable! The Options Elite comes in several different canopy color options, but I fell in love with the Laguna Blue with the chevron pattern on the inside. They are easy to clean and there is a zippered mesh section that you can unzip to allow more airflow in the buggy. Highly recommended!

I keep thinking I'm going to do a short post for you guys... I keep lying to myself and you

Yesterday, I posted this on my fb page... 

Bitter.com.

Despite the pain, I have had a great day today. Kevin is off, Ella's NICU follow up appt went great. Got stuff accomplished, I feel good, etc. Went to regular doctor appt and now being admitted. Where did the day go wrong? I just want to cry right now. And I want my mom :( And a burger, because ya know, they don't let you eat in here and I've been here for a while. Oh, and they have Frozen on loop - >( feeling bitter at The Baby Place at Celebration Hospital.

It was more as a lighthearted attempt at both cheering myself up and keeping my family and friends [that want to know] informed. I've had a VERY difficult past few days, both pain-filled and emotionally wrought. This pregnancy, which happens to be my last, has taken it's hardest toll on me. We jokingly blame Kevin and say "It's all your fault" - because if you cannot interject a little bit of levity in life, you are truly missing out. There is no one out there who can say to me that life does not come without obstacles... or heartache... or angst... or hell, even just the occasional speedbump. Some friends and family posted support and well-intentioned words of encouragement. And somehow or another a fistfight almost occurred.

There is also not ONE PERSON that can say to me that I don't value, treasure, consider myself grateful or blessed for ALL that I have. I don't bemoan the fact that I don't make 6 figures a year (or maybe I do on days when I'd really just like to lay down on snuggle with my little ones) but normally, no, you won't hear me complaining about having a job to do or a job to go to. Or having rent to pay, or anything of that sort. Because I'm grateful that I have a family, and a job, and a house to live in and even when I take my children to the doctor - I'm grateful that, for the most part, I have relatively healthy children, and the ability to take care of them when I need to. I count every blessing we have. And I don't focus on what we don't have. I've taken my daughter to countries where she can see firsthand how much more we are blessed than others, and shown her how to give back... even in the littlest way, so that we can better appreciate every. single. thing. we. have. 

EVERY. SINGLE. THING.

So now that we've got that out in the open. For clarification. I am not complaining. I am reaching out. I have said time and again, if my posts bother you, or if you feel compelled to roll your eyes because you feel I'm complaining, I ask you simply to either not read, ya know- scroll down your page til you see a picture of cats drinking coffee or something- or delete me from your friend's list. Because I cannot honestly EVER REMEMBER seeing someone in pain or need and telling them that I don't want to hear it.

This pregnancy has been so pain-filled ... yes, PAIN-FILLED, not discomfort, not cramping... PAIN. I have struggled with literally throwing up around the clock (that's about 24-28 times a day) and when I wasn't full-fledged vomiting, I was dry heaving. When that wasn't happening, I was getting more and more needles as they pumped my body full of fluids so that baby and I would continue to survive. Every 15-18 hours, I inject a small needle and catheter like tube into my now VERY pregnant belly, where I am infused with anti-nausea medication (because it doesn't just go away in the 1st trimester like some people seem to think). And since I haven't always been in the best shape, heck, let's face it, I've been overweight for some time... AND I never properly healed from my c-section with Ella - I have zero muscle tone in my lower abdomen. The baby and everything else is now pressing on my pelvic bone, and according to the doctor, may very well have fractured it. HOW DOES THAT SOUND FOR FUN? If that's not a stunning endorsement for this is the last baby, I've never heard one louder (or better).

So more about me. Because this is my blog, and since I can't afford to go to the therapist right now, and she so kindly emailed me off the books, this is how I cope.  I, personally, have struggled with depression - and have internalized it as much as possible. Being in pain is such an enabler for depression. I truly think it is. For one, when you hurt, it feels like nothing will make things better. You take medications, and they are a temporary relief to your pain... but you know you'll be miserable again when the meds wear off. You are constantly struggling to see the light at the end of the tunnel. 

This Sunday, August 10th - was the FIRST time I ever recalled just wishing I didn't wake up. I'm not talking wishing I could roll over and go back to sleep. Or wishing that it was not the day before Monday. I'm talking, I wished myself out of existence. I was disappointed that I had to cope with the pain and misery for even one more day. I wished it more than I loved my family, friends... and more importantly, I wished I was not here more than I loved myself. It's a hard point to come to when you realize the pain is THAT GREAT (although, personally I think "great" is a horrible word to describe that feeling) that your very own existence seems inconsequential compared to the pain you are in. And then Robin Williams passed away, and it was such an echo of my sentiment. Because normally, I'm a happy go lucky, cheer people on type of person. And I ran out of "think of the blessings" and hit the IDGAF stage. And I guess, some people just aren't used to that from me. It's ok. When your turn comes, you're entitled to it. And if you say out loud how you feel... I certainly am not one to judge.

I won't say I'm "all-better" today. I'm a damned sight better than I was yesterday, sitting in the hospital, watching Frozen on loop (a friend commented, "Frozen on loop?!?!?! You are now in hell in the form of a hospital.") and getting poked and prodded, (which if you're dehydrated - which happens when you get sick all day no matter how much water you drink - makes for repeated attempts and sore arms when they try to get blood) AND still in pain, oh yeah, and you don't get to eat ANYTHING for, at minimum 10 hours, and who doesn't get cranky, irritable and whiny after 10 hours of no food #notthisfatgirl .... I was pretty miserable. Today I am "home" and en route to the perinatologist to make sure baby Paisley is progressing the way she should be since it's almost a given I won't go full term. I did NOT however, wake up wishing I hadn't woken up. My beautiful daughters came in and hugged me, and Ella was kind enough to wipe her snot-dripping nose on my shirt, causing me to immediately throw up (lol?) and Kevin woke up at 5am and checked my blood pressure, and put a frozen cloth on my head that I really don't recall asking for, and my Mom and Dad talked on the phone with me and told me they're rooting for me and we can do this. And I know we can.

To my friend that meant well, but it didn't come across that way, some of this is for you. To my friend (who is also pregnant and going through a miserable pregnancy) thanks for being my wing-woman, please don't bruise your knuckles. To my sister-in-law and other friends who think I'm a better woman sometimes... remember that I'm not. Because instead of standing up for myself, I turned off my phone, put my head back on my uncomfortable hospital bed pillow and cried. Like a wuss. I let it get under my skin. Into my head. Embedded in my heart. And I almost let it get the better of me. Almost. Until later that evening I logged onto fb, and saw the posts. That of the original poster who did not mean to be so harsh, and those of you who so steadfastly stood up for me, or helped me back up. They made me remember I am not alone. Thank you for that.

It's dark in here... enter at your own risk (oh yeah, and it's long)

So as I mentioned in my first post, some of this is to keep friends and family in the loop. Some of this is to keep me...sane. I've been struggling with this sort of depression off and on since I started getting sick with this pregnancy. I guess, if I want to be honest, that it means I've been teetering very closely on that edge, and the pregnancy was just an excuse to topple me over. But I've also been dealt some pretty judgmental blows recently.

There is nothing that can explain the feeling of inadequacy like hearing other people essentially BRAG about something that comes naturally to them... but that you struggle with doing. From friends and family, to co-workers and bosses, and heck, even strangers. It's an age-old process. Millions upon millions of women time and again do it. And here I sit, having a pity party because bringing a new life into this world is not just an effort, but a seemingly impossible task for me.

I've had people tell me, "Well you know, it says that you're only supposed to be nauseous for the 1st trimester." or even "It's not like you have to do anything special, many women get pregnant." And I guess, to a certain extent, it's my own fault, because, well it's one thing to hear it, and another to let it get to me. And it's easy for some to go, "Oh just ignore them" - but it's another thing entirely to do it. I've even had one person say that if I wasn't overweight, none of these problems would occur. And maybe they wouldn't have. But the harsh reality is that I AM overweight. The harsher reality that I neglected to touch base on was that, when I was NOT overweight, I still had difficulty being pregnant. Depression doesn't use logic to weigh out those opinions though. It doesn't put up a flashing sign that says, "HEY! Skinny people have problems getting pregnant too!" or "Healthy women struggle with pregnancy as well." There is no statistic that says only overweight women have stillbirth. There's nothing that says perfectly healthy women have bodies that have unhealthy innards. There's no journal that says if you are 125 lbs. your babies will be full term. So it's easy to lie down and take it. It's easy to let it snowball. And yeah, sometimes I just feel like it's easy, so why not?

"But I'm going to let you in on the darker side of all of this. I may catch heat for it. I'm sure plenty of people have an opinion and will consider me weak, think less of me."

In the more recent weeks, I've been hospitalized a few times for various reasons. None of which are the same, but all equally scary. When they start slinging terms like "transfusions" and "waivers" and "living wills" it's time to put on your big girl panties and realize your pity party at home can get a little complicated. I've hit the stage where I can no longer walk without any extreme amount of pain. Some people would just suck it up, or since the doctor did prescribe pain killers, they'd maybe pop a pill. The thing is, I've never really been good at just "sucking it up" and dealing with the pain. And I've already got a grocery list full of meds, so yeah, I'm hesitant to just start poppin' more pills... prescribed or otherwise. 

But I'm going to let you in on the darker side of all of this. I may catch heat for it. I'm sure plenty of people have an opinion and will consider me weak, think less of me. And you know what? I'm okay with that. I'm tired of internalizing it. People ask me how I feel? And all I can think is... I feel like $h!t. You asked. But instead I smile, and try to lessen the degree of pain I'm in by saying something inane, like - "One day at a time" or "Almost there" anything other than what I really feel. They don't really want to know anyways. Most people just expect me to say fine and go about my day. So I do.

I woke up on Sunday with the most intense pain I've ever dealt with. I'm talking - worse than the post c-section, worse than when I broke my arm as a kid and never said anything to my dad because I didn't want to get in trouble because I went down the slide face first, worse than literally slamming my hand in the car door and hearing my pinky break. Yeah, THAT kind of pain. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against my pillow, felt the tears leak out, and realized that I was DISAPPOINTED that I woke up. I just wanted the pain to go away. 

You have to understand, that of everything I have to be grateful for in life, it's my wonderful husband and my two beautiful daughters. It's my mom, dad, brother and all the other family members in my life that just... give me meaning. I treasure family more than anything in the world. So when the pain is SO GREAT that the only relief I can look forward to is the thought of never waking up, and NEVER seeing any of that again - I realize that I've come to an impasse. It's difficult to admit that I would be so willing to give up EVERYTHING that I hold near and dear and treasure the most. Even to myself. 

I'm sure the first thing you're all screaming is GO SEE A SHRINK! No offense to those in that profession - seriously - but I don't put a lot of faith in seeing a shrink right now, unless you're going to take the pain away. It's the pain that drives me to this. I'm not on self-destruct mode. I don't go out drinking, or do any type of drugs to numb the pain. I'm not intentionally harming myself. I'm living. One. Day. At. A. Time. I'm crying myself to sleep. As silently as possible, so I don't wake up Kevin, because he has to go to work in the morning, after he drops Laurel off to camp, and gets Ella ready for the day. As I sit upright, because I can't physically lie down without intensifying the pain. I wake up approximately 14 times throughout the night. Which essentially means I don't sleep. And judging by the permanent purple smudges on my eyes that look like I've invested in permanent plum eye shadow - I'm guessing that I DON'T sleep. I spend all day trying to get "comfortable" in bed. And this is just the "physical" aspect of pain.

 I'm living. One. Day. At. A. Time. I'm crying myself to sleep.

As silently as possible...

The "emotional" side is just as intense, and sometimes worse. I sit in bed and volley between having faith and not. I mean, who really lets you live in this much pain? Or what have I done wrong in a past life to deserve it? But also, there's the loneliness. When my family comes home from their respective places, and they all convene in the living room... I sit in my room and cry some more. It's a self-imposed prison. I jokingly refer to my 1-2 hours of walking around as my "time-out" or "prison break"  for good behavior. You have NOTHING but time on your hands to sit and think about things. 

Oh sure, everyone says just relax and enjoy it! Or some have even suggested getting away from my family because they must be the cause of my stress. I want to tell these people that they have no clue. In the nicest way possible, you have no clue. When our household income is literally sliced in two with no notice, but the bills remain the same. Or when you want to do something as simple as get the oil changed, but can't really afford to do that, but you're afraid to let one of the only working vehicles you have go to pot. Or knowing full well that the laundry will continue to pile up, or the dishes will eventually need washing, despite the fact that it hurts to stand for more than a 10 minute stint. Or, and this is the pity party part... knowing that only 1 or 2 people will stop out to say hello and give you a friendly face, an adult to talk to, a little news from the outside world. Because for some, the discomfort is greater than the friendship. And you have to live with that. And you get to THINK about that. Because, in all honesty, what else is there to do?

I can't tell you that writing this out and sharing this will make my hips feel better. Because it won't. I can't say that I'll mentally be a better person for having written this - because I just don't know. I may instantly regret hitting the publish button. But I'm in for a penny at this point. I can't say that I'll be able to walk tomorrow without pain... because, well I'm pretty sure I won't. I can't even tell you that if I wake up in pain tomorrow, I'll feel any differently than I did on Sunday - because I don't know what tomorrow brings. I don't know the extent of the pain I'll be in. I don't know what mindset I'll have. If I went to bed and actually slept. If I was able to lie down on my side instead of propped up vertically all night. I won't know any of this until tomorrow. But MAYBE... just maybe, before YOU judge someone, before you roll your eyes because they sound like they're moaning, before you notice that our yard is overgrown or there's an oilspot in our driveway, or see my husband helping me out to the car each time... maybe you'll realize there's always more. And that it makes people feel less. And when you're down to nil, it doesn't take much more to teeter over that edge.

*On the bright side, officially at 27 weeks. We're talking BABY STEPS with the doctor... so the goal is to get to 30 weeks. Then we make another goal... until we get to where we need to be. Paisley needs to just hang tight and stop trying to make an early appearance.*

The kinetics of our marriage...

I've discovered there are so few things to help you get through a rough patch in life like having the support and strength of a great partner. I've said it before, and yes, I'll say it again... and again if I have to. I am SO BLESSED to have Kevin as my other half. No, I'm not getting hormonal on all of you. I just wanted people to realize that I not only acknowledge it, but that I constantly tell him THANK YOU. And I'M SORRY and I LOVE YOU. Most of all, I tell him I love him.

Being someone's partner can sometimes be a "thankless" job. You're married, so you expect that support. You expect them to understand your woes, and applaud your achievements. And there are many people who are disappointed and disenchanted with marriage because it doesn't come naturally, and many times emotions are forced. I'm blessed in that I remember to do those things to Kevin... and I'm even more blessed in that he reciprocates!

We are essentially like those metal spheres attached to a string - KINETIC ENERGY SPHERES. They are fascinating, and I could easily be entertained by them. Different wavelengths and speed have the ability to alter the patterns, but the patterns do still exist. One sphere follows the other under they've found a rhythm where both spheres are continually ricocheting off of one another. It's fascinating. And it applies to our lives like no other.

 I constantly tell him THANK YOU. And I'M SORRY and I LOVE YOU. Most of all, I tell him I love you.

But it can be a double-edged sword as well. If there is anything this pregnancy alone has taught me, it's that you can't take your spouse/partner for granted. I am trying SO HARD to do what I can at home. Watching him go to work in the morning, come home and try and start dinner, wash laundry, etc. - Just WATCHING him is exhausting. The scary part is, I KNOW what it's like. I was a single mom before Kevin and I got together. It was all I ever did. EVERYTHING. So when it looks like he's burning both ends of the candle, I have to intercede and remind him that he's no good to me if he burns out. I also have to remind him that I married him to be my partner... not my nurse.

The sad part is, just walking to the mailbox and back thoroughly exhausts me. Washing dishes is easy, but I'm standing. I've fallen asleep standing at the kitchen sink. Walking back inside the house, I am quite literally worn out and have to sit down for a few. The sad part about this is that normally if I sit for more than 5 minutes, I suddenly find myself horizontal and ZZZzZzzz-ing. I don't know why or how he puts up with me, and sometimes I ask myself if I'm worth even HALF the trouble. Sometimes, I ask him (although I don't know what I'd do if he told me an answer I wasn't prepared for) if he thinks I'M worth the trouble.

As I watch him get run-down, and start getting sick - I have to force him to take a breath, go see the doctor, take his meds. It's important that I continue to take care of him as much and as often as he takes care of me. I love our children. But I see them climbing all over him when he just comes home from work, and I want to yell at them to leave Daddy alone. Just for a minute. Let the man catch his breath. And then I realize, I've just told him about 20 things that happened or need done and didn't get done. I'm just as bad as the kids. 

There's no moral to this post. Just a reiteration of I LOVE YOU and a reminder to myself even, to be grateful for what I have. I've done it alone. I've done it with the best partner ever. When those are your options... it's easy to choose. In case I ever take him for granted, someone send me the link to this post. 381xx

Life is what happens...

So, I've been jotting down notes in Word ever since I found out I was pregnant. I thought about going back and doing some posts retroactively, but to be honest, it's a litany of me getting sick, missing work, getting sick, going in the hospital... you get the point. I'm going to just throw in some back knowledge, and a little bit about why we're going here and then I'll start from there. I'm a 33 year old mom to two beautiful little girls, and wife to one crazy red-haired British dude. That's what my Girl Scout troop calls him: the crazy British dude. Kevin is my rock. I want to make that clear from the get-go. Because I'm sure in one or two or all of my posts, I may rant or grumble or whine or plain out bitch - and it may seem like I am ungrateful. And I don't want for any given point in time, anyone to ever mistake the love and appreciation I have for my husband. He is our foundation, and without him, I cannot imagine how our lives would be. That being said, there are times when a simple shake of my head, nod and smile, yes honey - any of those... are entirely appropriate.

I am presently 25 weeks pregnant with our 3rd (and last) child. As luck would have it... we're having, you guessed it - ANOTHER GIRL! Poor Kevin. Of our 2 daughters, both were born premature, each pregnancy worse than the one prior. Laurel Leah (DD#1) is now 9, and was born at 32 weeks. Elora Sage, aka Ella, (DD#2) just turned 2, and was born at 31 weeks. Her birth resulted in a TIA, or a minor stroke, for me and had her hanging out in the NICU for just over a month. So let me just make it clear, each birth has been progressively worse. While Laurel was early, she did not require a stay in the NICU. She was big (7lbs and 6 oz) and I was on insulin with this pregnancy and aside from being a little jaundiced, she was healthy. I was induced, had her naturally, and recovered relatively well, albeit a bit worn out. Ella, on the other hand, had us going from the beginning.

First of all, John Lennon sure knew what he was talking about... we went and made plans! Kevin and I were newlyweds, having married on the 4th of July that year, and planned on waiting for the immigration process to finish up before extending our family. In September, we discovered we were young, misguided fools - and I was pregnant! I managed to escape the insulin beast, but what I didn't get there, I more than made up for. Ella's pregnancy had me passing out left and right, my heart wasn't up for the extra load. Apparently neither was the rest of me, since I ended up with a TIA. I went in to one hospital and woke up in another with the doctor telling me, "You should let your parents know you're having a baby." To which I replied, "Oh they already know." And he chuckled and said - "NO - you're having one in about 2 hours" and so began the saga of Ella.

It was more difficult than anything I'd ever dealt with before. Leaving your baby in the hospital when you go home from giving birth is a disappointment like no other. We recently acted as our local March of Dimes Ambassador Family, and when I spoke, I referred to the varying emotions you feel as a parent that first time you drive away from the hospital with your child in the NICU. We had no real option, as we still had a little girl at home. And yes, we had jobs if we wanted to still be able to provide for our family. It was rough. My husband and I sat on the side of the road that first time, and cried together. We were in varied stages of guilt, grief, anger, frustration, disappointment and yes, we still had that sliver of joy because we DID have a baby. And for all intents and purposes, she was healthy and whole. But we felt incomplete - and we knew we would until the day we could bring her home. Ella's progress was much like many babies in the NICU, and also different from so many others. She was a strong little fighter, and jumped through hurdles faster than they anticipated. Every obstacle or goal she was to meet, she met and then moved on to the next one. She was a happy baby (still is) and loved to be cuddled. Wasn't fussy and irritable and the nurses loved on her all the time. We met our favorite NICU nurse, Jenn, at Winnie Palmer - and she left such a lasting impression on our hearts, that we continue to keep in touch with her today... even if she did move several states away *grumble, grumble* from us!

"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."

-John Lennon 

But that experience left a mark on us as well. We tendered the idea of having another baby and ultimately, we decided we just weren't going to try for another. I'm by no means on the shelf, but I was getting older. It had already been proven that my body just wasn't capable of carrying a baby full-term. And despite people telling us that "every pregnancy is different" - we also had experts that said that the likelihood of having a repeat experience was very high (especially since we're talking about the same father) - this is why you'll hear me say, "It's all Kevin's fault" so often. Kevin and I arranged for him to have a procedure done (the dreaded V) in late March. Unfortunately, we'd had some issues with our current BC plan, and then I went on traditional BC, aka the Pill, while being sick and on antibiotics. At this same time, my heart started doing these weird fluttery things again, and I was passing out...again. So lo and behold, I went to the cardiologist. When he told me my heart was working for 2, I felt a little stupid. Okay - I felt a LOT of stupid. I work in a doctor's office by the way, so the fact that it did not occur to me that antibiotics and birth control are not good team players... well, like I said, I felt a LOT of stupid.

 

We don't believe in the alternative, so Kevin and I immediately got over the shock, cried, laughed, told our families, cried some more. Fast forward now to mid July - my thyroid has given up the ghost, my blood pressure thinks it's in an express elevator, and now my blood sugar thinks EVERYTHING is cake, with icing, on top of icing. After a few days stay in Winnie Palmer, which sometimes feels like a vacation were it not for the needles and rationed meals, my perinatologist has deemed me unfit for work. I'm officially on bedrest at 25 weeks, and slowly going nuts. Okay, maybe not so slowly. The next few weeks will chronicle some of the struggles, maybe flashback to some of the health issues, and since I'm 90% positive I won't go to term with baby Paisley - her journey after birth. On the bright side, I have plenty of opportunity to notice that the tops of the walls in my bedroom never got painted. Oh yeah, and it's all Kevin's fault. Thanks for reading!