Up to something religious?

I am working on something.
I'll let you all in on it soon.

I hate cleaning, but....

Suddenly, 

cleaning the kitchen doesn't seem like such a bad idea.

Happy Friday! 

A peek inside

We moved into our new house a year and a half ago, and I have yet to post any pictures.

Why not?

It is usually in a state that might make you feel good about your cleaning and organizing skills, 
but 
not one I care to permanently document. 

Here are just a few of my favorite things...

Fiesta

Pigs 

and 

more pigs

What are some of your favorite things?

13 weeks

It seems like she's been with us forever.

13 weeks

Love you, baby girl.

48 Hours

After my breastfeeding experience a few weeks ago, I was glad to have several weeks before I had to face that doctors office again. That would give me plenty of time to decide how I was going to address the way I was treated and to gain some perspective.

Except

They called the following day to see if I would like to move my scheduled injections from the 23rd to the 11th.

Ugg. I was not looking forward to these injections. After the trauma of my c-section, I wasn't any the mood to inflict farther pain on myself anytime soon, and while I desperate want relief from my back and neck pain, I didn't want it to hurt. Because I am breastfeeding, that limits what they can use for pain relief during the procedure. I was going to have to suck it up. I had some injections in my second trimester, and they really weren't too bad, considering my doctor hadn't done injections without the aid of an x-ray in years.

I can do this. I need to do this. Why put off any longer what could possible provide relief from this constant pain and daily headaches? Ok, let's get this over with.

A nurse from his surgery center calls with instructions, which include, no eating or drinking since I will be going under anesthesia. Well, I will not be going under because I am breastfeeding and the doctor is aware of this, because was able to treat me previously without a problem.

All righty then.

........

On the drive there hubby attempts have me listen to the new Deftones. It was pretty heavy. I didn't find it incredibly progressive. It was grating my nerves. I kept turning it down. Hubby got all butt-hurt because her couldn't hear it.

15 year old boy much?

"Look, babe. I am really nervous. I am about to have my spine poked. With out drugs. It hurt when I had it done last November, but I was being a hard-ass. I know what is coming now, and the epidural I had for my c-section hurt like a mo-fo. I am just not looking forward to this."

"I'm sorry. I know. I shouldn't have tried to listen to it right now away. I feel like I am going deaf and it's never loud enough. I'll listen to it later."

I love this guy sometimes.

........

I arrive after my hour and 15 minute drive with my crew in tow. Hubby is there to act as my driver and because it is a hot day, hubby, Logan, Hunter, and the baby all set up camp in the waiting room.

Sorry, people in the waiting room and surgery staff.

They call me back almost right away, and I have to bring the baby back with me since she is hungry and needs to eat. We have a divided curtained area where each patient has their vitals checked, a quick consult with the doc, and prepares for surgery by having their IV put in, etc.

The entire time I have having my temp taken, history given, blood pressure checked, I am nursing the baby. I again reiterate that I am breastfeeding, so I will not be under for the procedure. I wish I would be, but I can't.

I had the baby back to my hubby, and wait for the doc. I am here to have injections in my neck for the first time ever. I need them in my lower back and hip too, but my daily head aches and the pain in my left arm are making me crazy.

The doc comes back and we talk about my neck. The conversation lead to my back and left hip and leg. Since I had some success with the last injections there, he wants to skip the neck this time and fix that hip and leg.

I guess...

And...

...here's where I get relieved and kind of excited...

he is able to use an opiate based drug during the procedure, that will make me comfortable and not effect breastfeeding. I was given enough opiate based  drugs after my c-section to kill a horse and was able to safely taken the during all my pregnancies and while breastfeeding. I had not even considered that they could use some today. I know they are safe.

"Please give me the minimum amount. I know they are safe, but I need to resume breastfeeding as soon as possible."

"No, problem. We'll make you comfortable. It will be fine."

.....

I lay face down of the table.

There is a flurry of activity.

I am still nervous.

I am anticipating the warm sensation in my arm as they push the drug.

"How you feeling?"

"Regular."

"Give her two more."

Good night moon...

.....

I am sitting in a wheel chair.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Apple juice."

"We have let your husband know you are finished and he is getting the kids into the car.

Here are your post-op instructions.

No baths for 24 hours.

And no breastfeeding for 48 hours."

WHAT?!

Only, because I was high as a kite, I said,

"Ok, thanks. Only 48 hours?"

They slipped me a mickey.

Versed.

Bastards.

Here I am, an hour plus away from home.

I seriously own not one bottle.

Not one.

No formula.

No breast pump.

I am not prepared for this scenario. At all.

As if it wasn't awesome already, wanna know how long I was "out" for?

Less than 5 minutes.

5 mins for 48 hours.

And, it's World Breastfeeding Month.

Budding Camera Artist

While at a Military Appreciation Ceremony on Sunday, I decided to let Hunter to play with the camera to keep him entertained. This is what a 2 year old is inspired by:

His shoe:

  

A professional photographer:

Back fat.

We have monkey see, monkey do syndrome around here, so of course, Logan wanted in on the camera fun.

After a few clicks, my boy was hooked and referring to himself as a Camera Artist. 

Here are a few of my favorite shots:

Hunter is annoyed that Logan now has the camera.

A lid.

My heart necklace.

2 hearts.

1 for Logan.

1 for Hunter.

A tent pole.

A tent stake.

A lid of a different kind.

And, he has taken about 900 more since then.

I kid you not.

I have created a monster.

Or

A Camera Artist.

I have no friends

Well, I have some friends. 

We moved from our hometown of St Louis, five years ago to a small town in Southern Maryland about 60 miles south of DC. Things were a little slow on the friends front, but once we had our first baby, I was able to connect with other new moms through community groups and the library. It was part commuter town, part military town, as it was close to the Pax River NAS where my husband was a contractor and I could go to the park any day of the week and come home with three new best friends. 

Fast forward four years. Due to a BRAC closing of the ANG Base in St Louis, a full time Guard slot opened and we had the opportunity to move our growing family about three hours from our home town. 

Perfect. 

Well, almost perfect.

I consider myself to be a pretty outgoing gal, but I can not meet cool chicks to save my freakin life! My neighborhood is full of (awesome) looong term residents (read: old), so we don't have the kind of neighbors you can split a bottle of wine with on a Saturday night. I was hoping to connect with some mom's of the kids in my son's preschool class, but when they drop their kids off, they have stuff to do and were not interested in a meet up at Starbucks. So many people are locals, and they grew up here, and have friends and family in town, so they don't even consider adding new people in their lives. 

I know it will get better and most days I am cool just hanging with my monsters, but sometimes it's just nice to know you have a friend a phone call away. 

It must have been World Breastfeeding Week

I consider myself to be a mom who is quite experienced when it comes to breastfeeding. Oriana is my third exclusively breastfed baby since 2006, and Logan and Hunter were each nursed for 14 months, so I feel like I especially know public breastfeeding etiquette.

I generally wear layered clothing, high-waisted maternity pants (to cover my stomach), or nursing shirts like this. Last Thursday I was wearing a black Gap v-neck t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants with a roll down waist that I wear unrolled as to cover my battle scars, aka stretch marked belly flab.

I see a pain management doctor for chronic neck and back issues related to torn and bulging discs, sciatica, IT Band syndrome, as well as additional nerve and muscle damage. I see my doctor for injections, but when I go in for prescription refills, I see his nurse practitioner, "Mark." Mark is an absolute joy to work with. His children are 9 and 11 years old, and his wife exclusively breastfed both of his children and they shared in some of the same dietary issues my babies have.

On Thursday I was due for a prescription refill and was going to schedule some injections now that I recovered from my c-section (recovered enough, anyway). The office is 65 miles one way and while I was able to leave the boys at home, Ms. Oriana goes everywhere with mom. I arrived about 5 mins late for my appointment (it's farm equipment moving time) and, for once, I was taken back right away by a RN. When all the formalities were done; temperature, blood pressure, etc, I was left to wait for Mark.

After over an hour on the road, the baby started fussing and wanted to eat, so she and I assumed the position. My appointments involve no physical exam, so I was not concerned about holding her or that she would be in the way. I was sitting in a chair with short arms, so I took the baby blanket and placed it under my arm to avoid neck strain (one the reasons I see Ken and this doctor). The nurse came back in to ask me something else and I leaned forward to get a better look at what she was trying to show me. I guess at that time she noticed I was nursing. We finished our conversation, she again informed me that Mark would be in shortly, and left the exam room. She appeared just 30 seconds later and asked if I would like a blanket to cover up since Mark would be coming in.

I said, "No, I'm fine. I am comfortable with Mark and don't think it'll be necessary."

She then frantically reached into a drawer, pulled out a ratty gown, draped it over me, and ran out the door.

Uh....

What?

I modestly nursed in front of Mark my during my two previous appointments. I left feeling pleased about his level of knowledge regarding breastfeeding, considering he worked as a CNP at an OBGYN's office for 8 YEARS before moving over to pain management 7 years ago. I am pretty sure he has professionally seen boobs before.

Needless to say, I happily removed the ratty gown off my body and put it under the arm, as it was still lacking adequate support. Mark came it, discussed my options, gave me my prescription scripts, and SPECIFICALLY asked me how nursing was going all the while the baby happily nursed. When she came up for air, he held her and demonstrated positioning he suggested  may put less strain on the discs I am currently having problems with.

I was given no indication that he suggested the nurse ASK me to cover up.

I know that I was not brazenly flashing my boobs while feeding the baby, and had I not leaned forward while the RN was in the room, she would have never known.

I am not comfortable using a cover up, because I feel like I am putting on a bill board that screams, "THERE IS A BABY SUCKING ON MY BOOB RIGHT NOW!"

I do use a blanket sometimes, but my biggest concern is covering up my stomach since I usually have my shirt covering to the baby's mouth. I do not go out of my way to cover up (capes, blankets, etc) because I have been more than successful at discretely nursing with out all the paraphernalia, so much so, that I have had dads hand me a plate of cake at a Birthday party and never suspect that I am nursing.

So why would a medical PROFESSIONAL basically force me to over up? Was she protecting me? Was she protecting Mark, CNP? Was she so uncomfortable or offended by the feeding of a 9 week old infant that her reaction was place me under a tent?

I feel lucky for my four years of breastfeeding experience when I run into these types of situations.

If I was less experienced or unsure of my decision, I am not sure how I would react.

I was aware that last week, August 1-7, 2010, was World Breastfeeding Week, because of an informative FaceBook group that I "like." I am certain of one thing, this nurse did not get the memo.