Dear my one year old,

My dear, sweet Maddy Jo Bean. I can't believe you turn one year old today. It doesn't seem possible that an entire year has passed since you came into our lives. This first year of your life has been a crazy, emotional, awesome adventure and I wouldn't change a thing! You've taught me so much about myself, and through being your mommy I've been forever changed.

You've always known who you were. Your personality hasn't really changed since you were born. You're generally a happy, easy going baby, but if you're upset you make sure everyone within earshot knows it. There were those first few weeks where you were "colicky", but looking back it only lasted for a short period of time, and you've been my sweet Bean since. (Our lactation consultant, Tiffanie, reminded me once during an emotional break down - of mine - that you had a rough entrance into this world and thus had a story to tell. She told me to let you tell your story, and remind you that I was there for you. That I was sorry you were upset, but that I loved you. You did have a bit of a rough entrance into the world, and it helped for me to remind myself of that when you'd be inconsolable for hours every night.) Your emotional outbursts are getting fewer and farther between now that you've learned some sign language. Communication is key, and when you can't communicate what it is that you want or need you get frustrated. However, now that you're a Big-Girl-Bean your outbursts are getting more dramatic - and more amusing. You throw your head back, sometimes you cover your mouth with both hands, sometimes you cover your eyes. Sometimes you toddle over to me, crying, put your head on my shoulder and when I kiss you or pat your back you pull away, look me straight in my eyes and make your saddest face and start crying harder. As if you REALLY want me to know that you're REALLY upset. haha.

You've always been a Daddy's Girl and that hasn't changed. Since your Daddy works he gets a fabulous Welcome Home greeting every evening. I know it warms my heart to see you SO happy and excited to see him come in the door - I can only imagine how it makes him feel. When he comes in the door it's like no one else is in the room. I hope that never changes. I hope you're always a Daddy's Girl because your Daddy really is great and he loves you so so so much!

The days leading up to your birthday had me a bit emotional. My thoughts were, "if this year has flown by THIS fast, how fast will the next 17 go?!" I feel like I can't blink or I'll miss something new and wonderful that you're doing. You started walking about 3 weeks ago and the list of things you can do increases by leaps and bounds every day! My favorite thing you do, now, is watching you stand up, look over your shoulder at me, giggle and then start running away from me. When I get up and start to "chase" you you start to laugh and squeal in delight. I stomp after you in a dramatic, slow motion style and you just scream and laugh and I can't get enough! When either you trip and fall or when I "catch" you and you tumble to the ground I "tickle attack" you and you laugh sssooo loud. I wish I could bottle your sweet baby laughter. I know, for a fact, that the sweet sound could cheer up the saddest of days.

I feel so lucky to have been able to stay home with you and look forward to our future. As you get bigger we'll be able to have more out-of-the-house adventures, but until then I'm happy to be home with you, reading, dancing, singing and playing.

Happy 1st Birthday Madeline Jo. I love you more than I could ever express.

7lbs 3oz 1 day old

18lbs 12oz 1 year old

Madeline's 1st birthday party

What the world? I can't believe my kid is going to be ONE YEAR OLD tomorrow! We had her birthday party this last Saturday so that my family who was visiting from Florida and my mom could attend. Many people say that first birthday parties are just for the parents, that they're no big deal, but for me it was more than that. I was excited to plan my daughter's very first birthday party. I've never planned a party before for myself or anyone else, but I wanted to plan out something special for my girl. I liked looking through Pinterest to get ideas about a theme, decorations, food, cake, etc. I liked going to Hobby Lobby to get the supplies to make the decorations and the cake. I liked making pennants for the "Happy 1st Birthday" banner. I liked making cakepops for the first time. I really enjoyed making my girl's first birthday something special.

Next year, I'm hoping she'll (we'll) have friends from playgroups, library story time, Cool Beans Playhouse or where ever, so that I can also plan games and party favors too. I've already been looking through Pinterest for party ideas for the future. In a few years she'll be jumping up and down shrieking that she wants a Fancy Nancy party, or whatever it is that she thinks is cool when she's 6 years old, but until then I'm going to plan - and execute - awesome parties to the best of my ability. And I'll take a ton of pictures so she can look back and see what awesome parties she's had.

Her FIRST birthday party had a Watermelon/Picnic theme:

My mom made Madeline's adorable watermelon dress

My heart breaks

I'll never, ever, understand why good women have to go through such insurmountable pain from the loss of their child. I'll never, ever, understand why unborn babies have to die. I'll never, ever, understand why good, loving women who want nothing more to have a child have fertility problems.

I obviously get the science of it. Sometimes there are genetic issues, sometimes there are unforeseen health problems, sometimes something unexplainable goes wrong. But it doesn't make it hurt less. I'm not someone with strong enough religious convictions to find comfort in the thought that "God has a plan for them." It may be true, but it doesn't make me feel better. It doesn't make me less angry for the mothers, or sad for the babies.

In 5 days 4 of my friends have lost their babies. Two of them were in their first trimester, one was in her second trimester, and one was 4 days from her due date. I know life isn't fair, but this takes the cake. All of these babies were wanted, loved, and looked forward to. Their mothers had dreams for their futures, and it's not fair that their dreams got ripped away from them.

I wish for a day that this kind of pain no longer exists for my friends or any other mothers. My heart goes out to my friends, I wish I could take your pain away. :( Rest in Peace Baby Aiden, Baby R, Baby N #4 and Baby Rory.

Maddy's 1st cold

Before I was a mother I did a lot of babysitting. I took many child development, child psychology and education classes. I worked in a preschool - and particularly loved the 18 month class. I had many friends with babies. I loooooved babies. I had endless amounts of patience for kids - especially sick, sad, tantrum-y, clingy kids. Stinky diapers didn't phase me. Spit up by the bucket full didn't phase me. I thought for sure that all that experience and education with babies and kids would leave me cool, calm and collected when the day came that I was a mother and my kid was sick.

Color me wrong.

Looking back now I should have known something was off with Madeline, but I just chalked it up to teething. She was teething, but she was acting different. We were at her Guppy swim class last Wednesday (June 29th) and she wanted nothing to do with the nursery rhyme games we were playing. She didn't want to "swim" after her rubber duckie. She didn't want to play in the bubbles. (The swim class is held in the heated therapeutic pool that's used primarily by arthritic seniors and handi-capable individuals. It has water jets like a hot-tub has and you can sit on the steps and the babies like to play with the bubbles.) She didn't want to laugh and "talk" to the other babies and even started whimper-crying when the instructor tried to play with her. Instead she just wanted to lean into my chest, put her head on my shoulder and play with my necklace. She felt warm, but not enough for me to worry. The other parents looked at me with pity, "poor baby" "teething is so hard" "I remember those days" were some of the comments I got.

When we left the Guppy class she pretty much went back to her normal self, so I just assumed her clingy behavior had something to do with teething mixed with a developmental thing. All babies that I've known have gone through multiple stranger-danger phases where they're really bashful and ONLY want mom or dad. I took her home, changed her clothes and put her down for a nap.

The Bean that woke up from her nap was different than the one I laid down 90 mins prior. She was a FUSSY-MUSS!! Tantrums over every.little.thing! The yelling and growling and squealing was like nothing I'd seen her do before. There were (more than) a few times that I looked at her and asked, "What is your deal?!" I was at a complete loss. My girl has always had a flare for the dramatic, but she's not normally so angry.

I trudged on, counted down the minutes until Jeff got home from work hoping that he would bring our Bean-girl back from the abyss, and was disappointed when our resident "Daddy's Girl" didn't return when her Daddy walked through the door. So, we struggled through dinner, bathtime, pajama time, story time and I collapsed on the cough with an audible "Phew!" when I finally put her down for bed.

30 mins after she fell asleep I heard, over the monitor, the first signs of her cold. Snoring like a dude. Darth Vader mouth breathing. I, still in denial, laughed at the sounds coming out of her room and thought her teething, or maybe even allergies, were making her snore. About an hour after that, though, the coughing started. The type of coughing that was caused by drainage down the back of her throat. The type of coughing that would end up waking her up every 2 hours or so. ALL.NIGHT.LONG. (for the next two nights.)

The next day when I'd put her down for her nap she's sleep for about 15-20 mins before coughing herself awake and then giving up on the nap all together about 15 mins laters. A sick baby NEEDS to sleep to get better, but thanks to this stupid cold she wasn't able to sleep.

Saline spray? we used it.
Nose sucker? we used it.
Vicks on her chest, back and feet? we used it.
Hyland's homeopathic cold remedy? we used it.
Humidifier? we used it.

Nothing seemed to help. I felt sssooo helpless. I was less than cool, calm and collected. Not only was I paranoid that her cold was actually some yet-to-be-discovered llama flu, but I was also sick. So, not only did she need sleep - but so did I. And since she wasn't sleeping, either was I.

In reality, she was only really - REALLY - sick for 2 days. It came on fast, hit her hard, and then she started to get better. She was still suuuuuuuuuper snotty, I still needed to suction her nose, she was still taking crappy naps - but her temperament and personality was pretty much back to normal after those two days. And, two days after that she started taking good naps again, and stopped waking herself up at night, so her mood improved even more after that.

I was not a fan of this cold. And wasn't stoked that she shared it with me. But we both survived. I need to dig around in my dresser and find my big-girl-panties, though, for the next time she's sick because if she's sick with something worse than a cold I can't be FUH-REAKING out, thinking in worst case scenarios, when all she has is the flu (or strep throat, or chicken pocks, or some other totally benign childhood illness) and all she needs is her mom to be cool, calm and collected and take care of her.

poor, sick Maddy Jo

Food

Now that my girl is 10 1/2 months old she's finally starting to like more solid foods. Actually getting the food into her mouth is still a skill that she's working on (hahah!), but at least she's not just blatantly shunning it all together. She's never, EVER, been a fan of purees and has always preferred finger foods. Chewing and successfully swallowing the little pieces has proven tricky, though. She is getting better though; less dramatic gagging, more swallowing, more SUPER disgusting diapers (yay! :-/ ). She also thinks it's sssssoooooo fun to "accidentally" drop her food over the side of her high chair into the open and waiting mouths of her BFFs - the dogs! We're working on teaching her NOT to feed the doggies, also working on trying to remember to lock the dogs out of the dining room while we're eating.

There is a new - but the same, really - development that is REALLY irking me now that she's getting to be a bigger girl and eating more "real" food. The assumption that she needs to be eating all the garbage that older kids - or adults - are eating. And the assumption that she needs to be drinking less breastmilk. (Why does EVERYONE have an opinion on your parenting?!)

First off: Do what you want with your kids. To each their own. I won't tell you not to feed your 6 month old that Happy Meal, because your kid isn't my concern. But, please pay me the same respect, and realize that MY kid is none of YOUR concern, and you're not allowed to make choices regarding her health. For the love of all things holy, when you're thinking about feeding whateveritisyouhaveinyourhand to MY child, please ask first. A quick, "Hey can she have this?" would be reallllllllly appreciated. We've made the decision that she won't have refined sugars, greasy fats, processed foods or meat yet. She has her whole life to eat poorly, but for this first year of her life we'd like to feel confident that she's eating only good-for-her foods. And if we say, NO, to you giving her whateveritisyouhaveinyourhand don't give us a hard time about it. You had the chance to feed your kids whatever you wanted them to have. And you're right, they turned out great regardless, but you had your chance. This is ours. Thank you.

Secondly: We agree with the WHO's recommendation that babies should be exclusively fed breastmilk for the first 6 months of their life, and then it should still be the main source of nutrition for the child's first 12 months - and then continued for as long as it's mutually desired by both mother and child, but preferably until closer to 2 years old. Maddy LOVES her some milks. And I work SO FLIPPIN' HARD to provide her milks to her. So I'm not going to push her to stop drinking it before she wants to. Yes, my situation is different than if I were nursing her in the traditional way. Yes, I less-than-love pumping and dream of the day when I don't HAVE to do it anymore. But, I feel the same way about EPing as I do about BFing: I'm not going to stop giving her my milk until she's done with it. At this point she's still drinking about 30oz of milks per day. Even with her increased amount of solid foods, the amount of BM has only decreased about 2-3oz. At this rate I KNOW I'll be pumping passed her 1st birthday. And while there are days where I procrastinate and complain about having to pump, I remind myself that in the grand scheme of her LIFE I won't be pumping for very long. And honestly, after all the issues we had in the beginning of our BFing relationship it makes me feel good that she loves her milks so much. It makes all the heartache, physical pain, emotional pain, exhaustion, and hard work totally worth it. I don't know why people - even some misinformed Drs - think that breastmilk suddenly loses it's nutritional value at 6, 9 or 12 months of the baby's age - but that's just ridiculous!

Madeline will eventually decide that "real" foods are more exciting than her milks, and she'll start eating more solids and drinking less BM. As she gets older we'll introduce her to more diverse foods, and will relax on the quality of food as well, but until then just know that we make the choices we make because we love her and we believe we're making the best decisions for her with regard to her health.

I'm pretty positive that she's doing JUST fine on a diet of her milks, peas, corn, blueberries, Cheerios, black beans, cheese, rice, asparagus, yogurt, grapes and hummus. She's a happy, healthy, intelligent girl who's meeting - and usually exceeding - her milestones. :)



/I'm stepping off my soapbox now. Man! I hate feeling so defensive about the choices we make as parents.

What's in a name?

April 23, 2010.

I was laying in bed, at my mom's house, in her guest room - which is my old room - in my old bed. Jeff was at work - he was working graveyard shifts. My mom was in Florida. She had gone there about 2 weeks prior to help take care of my Grandpa, who was very sick with cancer, and my Grandma, who was suddenly very sick with pneumonia and in the hospital. I was laying in bed, with my dogs on the bed with me, but otherwise alone. There isn't a tv in that room, and I didn't have the radio on. I tried reading, but I couldn't focus.

On April 8th, 2010 Jeff and I went to the gender scan ultrasound appointment and learned we would be bringing a daughter home, sometime in August. We were overjoyed (admittedly, I was a bit nervous and shocked - I'd always dreamed of having a boy one day, even my pregnant-lady dreams all involved a son), my mom was excited for a grand-daughter and she and my Grandma joked about my getting "payback" by being blessed with a daughter.

But now Jeff and I had to pick a girl's name! We already had a boy's name picked out, but hadn't given much thought to a girl's name. (I already, briefly, talked about how we settled on Madeline's name, but most of the emphasis was about her middle name - Jo - being picked in honor of my Grandpa. This is about how Madeline came to be.)

We went to Disneyland to celebrate our 2nd wedding anniversary on April 9-11, 2010 and went back and forth on girl's names, ending up with a short list of about 8 names on the back of an envelope by the time we got home that weekend. After we got back from California is when my Grandma got sick and my mom flew to Orlando to help my with grandparents.

My mom called me early the morning of April 16th to tell me that my Grandma passed away. I didn't see that coming. I cried and cried and cried. I woke Jeff up - who has just gotten home from work an hour before and had just falled asleep - with all my crying. I called my boss to tell him the news and told him I wouldn't be in. And then I sat. And cried. And sat. I had an OB appt, scheduled far in advance for that day and decided to go - to make sure everything was ok with my daughter - but all I remember of that appointment is crying to my Dr about my Grandma's death. I'm sure she checked her heartbeat. I'm sure she told me what new changes to look out for, what new milestones to expect, but I don't remember any of it. I just remember crying. Thankfully, Jeff was there to drive me to and from because I don't remember the drive there.

I went back to work the next Monday. I don't remember much that whole week. I was in a weird haze. I'd call and talk to my mom every day. I'd ask her how she was doing. I'd ask her how my Grandpa was doing. I sent flowers. I tried to not cry very much to my mom since I knew her pain must be a million times worse. And she was being so strong for my Grandpa's sake, so I didn't want to make her cry by my crying.

At some point during that 1st week without my Grandma I stopped crying, but I still don't remember doing anything specific.

Which brings me back to the night of April 23, 2010. Where I was laying in bed, at my mom's house, all alone except for my dogs. The book I was trying to read was The Art of Racing in the Rain (which has a pretty sad part in it, by the way, I don't recommend reading it following the death of a loved one) but, like I said I just couldn't focus so I put it down.

I was alone in a dark, empty house, at night... feeling really alone - emotionally - and kinda numb and then I realized - yes, REALIZED, suddenly after a week of being so detached from the world - that I wasn't alone, after all. My daughter was with me. Always with me. So, I put my hand on my stomach and started talking - out loud - to her. I apologized for not talking to her much lately. I told her I loved her. I asked her how she was feeling. I was trying to re-connect with her.

I was told early on in my pregnancy that I had an anterior placenta. Which meant that my placenta was positioned on the front of my uterus, which made feeling my baby's movements harder than if the placenta was positioned on the back wall of my uterus.

I was talking, out loud, to my daughter as if she was going to respond to me. At one point I asked her, "Can you hear me? Let me know if you can hear me." Nothing happened. But I kept talking. I told her about my Grandma. I told her I was sorry that she'd never get to meet her, and told her about how much my Grandma loved her. How excited she was to meet her. I cried some more, but I kept talking. Eventually, I declared that she needed a name! And I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the envelope of names. I asked her if she liked Johanna? (nothing.) Arabella? (nothing.) Amelia? (nothing.) Madeline? (kick.) My heart jumped. I held my breath. I smiled involuntarily. And I went on. Josephine? (nothing.) Kendall? (nothing.) Isabelle? (nothing.) I said Madeline again. (kick. elbow-roll. kick.) I laughed and told her I was going to tell her Daddy that she picked her own name.

And when I told him how it happened he just smiled and said, "Well, ok then. Madeline it is." ♥ And it was. From that night on I never thought of her as anything else.

I swear, I came out of that sad, dark, lonely haze after that night. My daughter had a name - that she picked - and I was talking about my Grandma again. I was still sad, I'm still sad, but I wasn't numb anymore. As super-cheesy as it sounds, my Bean-girl pulled me out of that haze and reminded me that I had something wonderful to look forward to.

People would ask me how we picked Madeline, and I would usually give a generic answer about finding it in a baby book, liking the meaning, etc etc... but it's sort of hard to explain that we didn't pick Madeline. Madeline did.

slow down and enjoy the ride

The last couple of nights my girl has been waking up a lot, I mean - 3-4 times a night, which is a LOT. Yes, I'm tired because of it. No, I don't drink coffee. No, I don't get naps since she only takes 30 min naps. But... I haven't minded. It's not going to be like this forever. She's not going to wake up in the night frequently for much longer (in the grand scheme of things). She's not going to need extra snuggle time for much longer. So, for now, I'm going to enjoy it.

I'm going to enjoy the weight of her little body laying across my chest. I'm going to enjoy her little fingers raking my arm back and forth a hundred times. I'm going to breathe in her sweet baby breath. I'm going to steal a million kisses from her soft forehead. I'm going to find peace in the rhythm of her breathing as she matches it with mine. I'm going to smile to myself as she turns her head to the right, then the left, then the right again while she's trying to get comfortable. I'm going to savor this moment because it's going to be gone before I'm ready for it to be.

There will be days when she'll want her Daddy over me. There will be days when it seems she likes spending time her friends more than me. There will eventually come a day that she'll want to be around anyone other than me. But for now, she wants her Momma. And as tired as I may be throughout the day, I'm so happy that I get to be there for her and that I can make it all better when she wakes up and needs an extra snuggle sesh. I'll gladly snuggle-bunny my Bean, even if it means I don't get a full night's sleep. Because my girl doesn't snuggle with just anyone. She's not a snuggler. I'll take what I can get. And truthfully, middle of the night snuggles are sort of sweet; the house is quite, the world outside is quite, it's just me and her, and I get to watch and take in every little thing about her while she drifts back to sleep. And once she does... I softly kiss her face and lay her back down. Ready to come back to her as soon as she needs me.