Breastfeeding: What I Wish I Knew

Breastfeeding is awesome...when it's going smoothly.

But for many women, breastfeeding is a total enigma right up until they nearly give up.  It's weird, daunting, wonderful, and rarely without challenges.  While I'm here to sing the praises of nursing your infant, I can also tell you that it's TOTALLY OKAY to get freaked out by this "natural" part of motherhood.

I'm blessed to be successfully breastfeeding for the third time, and we're well into a rhythm of pumping and nursing.  But, even with lactation classes, friends' and sisters' wisdom from their experiences, and reading up on "what to expect"...there were still things I didn't discover about breastfeeding until I did it myself.

Here are five things about breastfeeding that I didn't have a clue about until I did it:

1.  Hurt so good.

I had heard that "it doesn't hurt if you're doing it right", which is incredibly discouraging and very misleading.  While that is generally true for breastfeeding regularly and consistently - it is not necessarily true for the first couple weeks!

Reality is, your body has been through hormone-mania and you thought the pain portion was over since labor ended, right?  Your nipples are not used to being exposed to air and getting constantly tugged at, so yeah - it's gonna hurt.  Many women opt to use nipple shields in the first few weeks to help minimize the pain while still breaking in the skin of the nipple.  (A nipple shield is a malleable plastic guard that covers the nipple while still allowing milk to pass through when nursing.)

I bit the bullet and was able to tough my way through it (granted, I was still on pain killers from my c-section) but I won't sugarcoat it - my eyes would well up with tears the first week or so every time the baby latched on.

Two things that helped:  1. Gel packs (specifically made for breastfeeding by Lansinoh) that you keep in the fridge and place on the nipple after feeding, and 2. Nipple cream/butter/balm.  I would recommend "Boob ease", Lansinoh's lanolin, or Earth Mama Angel Baby's nipple butter.  Be liberal!  And know that the BEST remedy for breastfeeding pain is to KEEP BREASTFEEDING...it will get easier.

2. Milk ducts in a row.

Up until I actually saw it coming out of my own breast, I had no idea that there were like a dozen little holes in the nipple that expressed milk.  I guess I had figured my breast would mimic a baby bottle and therefore only have one tiny outlet for milk.  Not the case!

These teensy little pinholes in the tip of your nipple are each individual milk ducts that deliver nutrition to your infant.  While I had heard the term "milk duct" I didn't understand that there are several in each nipple and any one of them could get clogged for various reasons.

A clogged duct is not uncommon, and usually solved by nursing consistently, but if you see a duct get swollen or red or crusty, be sure and ask your doctor or lactation consultant before it worsens.  Best to keep all your ducts in a row! (Sorry, I couldn't help myself.)

3. Let Down for what?

The term "let down" was a huge mystery to me.  I thought that it basically meant when the baby latched on, my breasts would let the milk out, end of story.  Wellll, turns out depending on your milk production, "let down" can happen just about any time.

You will especially experience let down if you either 1. Hear your baby cry, 2. Haven't fed your baby in a while, or 3. Forgot to wear nursing pads, are wearing a white shirt, have an important meeting with a male coworker, and forgot to bring a sweater!

Let down basically means you are filling up with milk right then and there and unless you feed immediately, you will leak.  It can be a sudden, tingly sensation in your breasts, and if you are ready to nurse then you will feel relief.  But, if you are filling up with milk at an inopportune moment, it can be quite uncomfortable and you will have to awkwardly "hug" your breasts by crossing your arms and applying some pressure that can help suppress the flow until it stops.

4.  All or Nothing

This is pretty straight forward, but also really important.  I had no idea that when one breast was expressing milk the other would too!  Some women don't have this issue, and if the milk supply is somewhat low it can rarely happen.  But, regardless of production, you have no control over letting the milk out or not.

When the baby is nursing on one side, your body just knows to let the milk out, but if you experience let down while nursing (which is what generally happens each time) then your other breast will start expressing milk even if your baby isn't latched on to that side.  In other words, it's all or nothing.  Either both breasts are ready to go, or neither are.  Of course, if you have emptied out one side by either pumping or nursing, then your other side is still full and needing to release milk somewhat soon.

5.  Made to Order

Did you know your milk is made exactly and exclusively for your baby?  Your body takes in information from the baby's saliva every time they nurse, then specifically churns out the nutrients the baby's body needs.  Crazy, right?!  When I learned this, it surpassed all my "I-know-breast-is-best" knowledge and just blew my mind how God had created my body for this experience.

I mean, we all know that breastfeeding is free, healthy, builds immunity, and can even boost infant intelligence, but in a recent study reviewed in an article by Science News, now there is evidence showing that these nutrients are perfectly designed just for your infant:

Part of the immunity that breast milk imparts, it seems, may depend in part on a mixture of milk and baby saliva flowing upstream. This backwash may actually cause a mother’s body to create made-to-order immune factors that are delivered back to the baby in milk, some scientists think.  Full Article HERE.

I want to encourage every new mama to try out breastfeeding, but please hear me out that I'm well aware there are times and circumstances that this isn't an ideal option for everyone.  Absolutely ONLY YOU know what is best for your baby (though I hope you get the input and support of friends, doctors and lactation consultants if necessary).  But, if you choose to hop on the breastfeeding train - welcome!

I hope these tips have shed some light on a superpower you didn't know you necessarily had.  After all, a nursing cover is just a superhero cape worn in front! 

Breastfeeding: part 2

Read PART ONE and catch up!  :)

Two days after Matilda turned one, I found out I was expecting our second child.  This came as a sudden whirlwind of joy, as we were certainly trying for another pregnancy but not expecting such swift results (it took nearly a year to conceive our first!)  I was still breastfeeding Matilda, and my explosion of new pregnancy hormones started to wreak havoc on my milk.  Some may argue this point, and even my Pediatrician didn't quite believe me, but within weeks, my sweet and jolly Matilda turned into a PMSing-rage-a-holic-tantrum-ridden-Jekyll-and-Hyde that seemed so irrational I could not put my finger on anything other than my hormone-rich breastmilk to blame.  Sure enough, within 48 hours of stopping breastfeeding cold turkey, Matilda was her chipper self again.  (You can't convince me that's a coincidence.)

Just like that, my baby was a toddler and my new baby was growing inside of me...ready to nurse in a mere 8 more months.  Anticipating Daphne's arrival, I eased into my new found freedoms:  no more leaking in public, no more objection to caffeine or the occasional wine, no more homeopathic remedies to take the place of good old fashioned Nyquil when an horrific cold would set in, and no more nursing bras with those annoying clasps that only Houdini could have done one-handed (I never did master that).  My boobs were back!  Bring on the underwires!  Bring on the Merlot!  And I cuddled my rambunctious Matilda in great anticipation that a new infant would soon be in my arms again, sure to double my joy.

Daphne's birth brought with it the same, difficult scenario of a long labor followed by a c-section.  And, as if played out like a syndicated rerun of my life, I found myself immersed in the world of breastfeeding.  I felt like I had just cliff dived into the ocean.  It was beautiful, it was pretty much what I expected, and it was more exhilarating than anyone could have prepared me for.  Same song, different verse, this new baby brought familiar situations to the surface while uncovering deep emotions I hadn't foreseen the first time around.

Nursing a new baby is a challenge.  Nursing a new baby while your twenty-month old toddler is screaming at you to pick her up is entirely another.  Somehow this hadn't registered in my planning-ahead when I looked forward to this secondary season of breastfeeding.  I longed for the quiet days of being able to stare into my child's content eyes, feeling her comfort expand, sensing the relief we were both experiencing, and truly encountering that mystical "bond" that the act of breastfeeding promised.  Not so, when a young, needy, irrational, and LOUD toddler is nipping at your heels for attention (and rightly so!)  I would have given anything to unhook my breast, hand it to my husband and somehow attend to everyone's need at once (such is the life of a mother, right?)

Nevertheless, beyond the convenience, the health, the nutrition of what breastfeeding supplies, it soon became clear to me that God designed this time as a purposefully still time that demanded the mother SIT.  I began to joke that if it weren't for breastfeeding, I would only sit down when I had to pee and that would be it.  What I had sensed as burdensome the first time around took on a new definition with the new baby, and breastfeeding turned into moments of luxury for me to hold dear.  A chance to sneak into the other room.  A time to rightfully say "No, wait." to my toddler without resentment or guilt.  A moment to depart into a glimmer of peace that calmly hosted my baby and my weary mind.

As the months wafted by like steam dissipating from a freshly baked pie, the sweet aroma of these new-baby memories accumulated into a very specific treasure chest in my heart.  Breastfeeding my baby was coming to an end.  At the turn of the year, Daphne approached her 18-month milestone and I started to feel the tug of time clenching the end of this phase for us.  She had already benefitted 6 months longer than Matilda, so this was new territory for my breastfeeding self.  I had not been working outside the home on a regular basis, so I did not have the breastpump to diminish my supply, keeping me more than amply prepared to nourish her upon demand.

All this to say, a couple more months went by where I started questioning friends and family how and when they thought it might be time for me to stop.  Was it getting weird?  Was she too old?  Was I perpetuating her desire for it?  Was I ready to stop?  This led up to the final few weeks, less than a month ago, where I finally came to a very important conclusion that only I could decide:  WHO CARES?  It simply couldn't matter what anyone else thought in this particular scenario.  It's a very wide gray area, and extremely individual, and I just had to come to terms with what I wanted to do.

I think it's really important when it comes to breastfeeding that we, especially as fellow moms, shut our traps and give full support.  The more people who smiled and encouraged me to just feel it out for myself and trust my motherly instinct were vital to my feeling secure it was time to stop.  I found myself insecure and worried that if I mentioned I was still nursing my 20-month-old it would be met with cringing snubs or unimpressed shrugs, neither of which I was very keen on.  I finally had to trust that God had gifted me to be Daphne's mother, therefore I was somehow (thank you, Jesus) empowered with the ability (no matter how flawed) to determine what I found best for myself and my child.

A natural "out" surfaced just a couple weeks ago.  Daphne came down with a fever and I didn't hesitate to nurse her when her little body lacked hydration.  A couple days later, when she was well again, she started to get greedy in her anticipation of my response and tested the waters (so to speak) demanding to be fed throughout the night.  I found no reason to A) take a step backwards, and B) prolong the inevitable.  So, without further adieu, I declared halfway through the day that the last round at her waking had, indeed, been the very last.  I found it much easier, emotionally, to look back upon the last feeding without much memory or significance rather than build up to an emotional farewell at the bedtime feeding.  Done meant done, and I didn't want to go through the torment of dragging it out or anticipating the end of this breastfeeding era.  I had spent weeks dwelling over the finality of it, and by the time the door swung open with opportunity for quitting, I was ready to lock it shut for good.

Thirty-six hours later, I was miserably engorged, laden with ice packs and feverishly fighting off signs of mastitis among other emotional havoc.  What have I done?  Can someone remind me why I'm not letting my baby relieve me of this pain?  But, morning brought a smidge of relief, and a new dose of ibuprofen along with the reality that the worst was surely over.

No one ever told me that giving up breastfeeding might be just as challenging as taking it on.  This journey of love and bonding and burdensome comfort are end capped with crucial phases of pain and doubt.  My physical engorgement seemed to mimic the overwhelming swell that my heart had been experiencing all along, that this truly was a short-lived time in my life to be cherished and never forgotten.  Someday this baby who I just held at my breast so tenderly and vulnerably, will be a grown person making decisions for herself, who I will trust to put her dependency on God and have her needs met nearly exclusively not by me.  This little creature who found comfort and nourishment, who I was so willing to STOP and be still with, will (I pray) grow to learn and be still...apart from me.  And that's heart-wrenching.

She needs me less today than she needed me then.  (Brutal truth that can be hard to swallow as a mother.)  And breastfeeding painstakingly taught me to cut the first of the apron cords, with many more to follow.  Her needs will be met, but not always by me.  This is wonderful!  This is freeing!  This is scary as scary can be.  And the frightening reality of what our breastfeeding era represented struck me to my core when I realized now that it is irretrievable.  But, then, isn't this the goal of growth through motherhood?  Allowing our little nestlings to step out a bit further into the great unknown and forcing (both) our dependencies on God to extend to new heights (with limits only set by our own doubts).

New freedoms, new phases, and new eras will surely march in with exceedingly wonderful blessings I have yet to understand.  As my girls grow, as they take on their own strengths, gifts, tendencies and somehow miraculously absorb the bit of wisdom God allows me to bestow into their lives, the harder it gets for me to step back.  Breastfeeding my girls was more than just a time to cheaply feed them or shed pregnancy pounds or even provide a bond between mother and baby.  It was a specific duration gifted to me in my life (twice!) that allowed me the opportunity to experience a new range of emotions (we're talking about entirely, whole new feelings) and new lessons in motherhood and life that I otherwise might have missed.

READERS: How did breastfeeding change you?  What did you experience after that phase ended?  What advice might you offer a new mother regarding breastfeeding?

Breastfeeding: part 1

Breastfeeding.  Yup.  We're going there.  So, if you're male and cringing already - you are free to leave at any time.  If you are female and wincing at the idea of learning TMI about me - feel free to click away.  But, if you have ever, will ever, or might know someone who has ever breastfed...I invite you to stick around today and tomorrow as I openly explore the topic near and dear (literally) to my heart.

Before the birth of my first daughter, Matilda, a few years ago, I remember being enormously pregnant and reading up on the "womanly art of breastfeeding" as it's so endearingly referred to.  I read and read and even took a private lactation class to try and absorb as much info as I could before actually jumping into the act myself.  I had studied so long and hard about labor and birth that it wasn't until the last few weeks of my pregnancy that I started to realize I was about to encounter a whole new world that would disrupt my life and my body:  breastfeeding.

I'll tell you right up front that, while this post is certainly "pro-breast" I'm going to go ahead and already assume you are "for breastfeeding".  There's just about a bazillion reasons (most of which you probably know already) for breastfeeding babies, and certainly there are valid and legitimate reasons that mothers can't or choose not too.  But, there's no denying that in an ideal setting for a typical baby and a healthy mother, breastfeeding is best - and so, we'll leave it at that.

That being said, I had always assumed I would breastfeed.  It seemed cheap and logical and convenient, above all the other health reasons that just seemed to make sense.  But, I had NO IDEA how to do it.  It's not exactly something one can practice beforehand (and trust me, it's already awkward enough to football hold a doll and pretend-put-it-up-to your boob) and so it remained an enormous mystery to me right up until it actually happened.

I'll say this - it all just seemed so awkward.  When I tried to imagine it or conceptualize what it might be like, I couldn't imagine it being anything but awkward.  How could it not hurt?  How could it ever become "normal"?  How will the baby know what to do?  What does "let down" mean and will it hurt?  How will it affect my marriage?  How long should I do it?  How hard will it be?

Can you believe this was for real?

These questions and more plagued my over-information-burdened mind in the days leading up to my daughter's birth.  It was a giant enigma that I kept chalking up to:  Well, I don't know.  But, I'll just do it.  I will.  That's that.  And really, that was that.

And then I had a baby.  I held my baby for the first time.  I saw her and I wept with what could only be described as indescribable joy.  My heart suddenly caved in and my breath was stopped short by the sheer awe and wonder of how part of me could be existing on the outside of my body, and suddenly I felt and overwhelming urge to unite myself back to this creature whom I had held inside for so long.  I physiologically needed to nourish her, comfort her, provide for her...and my body impulsively longed to do so.  She latched on, right there in the recovery room (after a 20 hour labor and sudden c-section) and suddenly there I was, breastfeeding my infant as if I had always known how.

The following weeks were less magical.  I was, however,  blessed with a record-breaking milk supply and a chunky baby who required much attention.  I am eternally grateful for the gift of an easily-nursed baby. I know that many mothers out there have had brutal experiences coping with latching technique and sore nipples and milk that took weeks to come in...but, I was one of the lucky ones  (feel free to punch me in the face now if you weren't...I'm so sorry).  However, no matter how "easy" it was...it was NOT easy.

Babies are demanding.  Babies are needy.  Babies are also irrational and uncommunicative apart from wailing and screaming.  Meanwhile, as I was trying to get used to my recovering-from-birth body, and waiting on my milk supply to regulate, my breasts seemed to take on a life of their own - being called upon every couple hours for who-knows-how-long and all in private sessions that kept me away from all other people or priorities.  Sometimes this was glorious.  I loved to stare into my baby's eyes and see her so happily nurse and feel comfort and love and nourishment all at the same time.  Sometimes, however, this was burdensome.  I would hear my husband and friends laughing in the living room as the movie continued on without me so I could nurse the baby back to sleep...I would let dinner burn on the stove as I forgot to turn down the heat as I held my child...I would drift off in the middle of the night as my exhaustion got the better of me.  And still, I did my best to remain grateful for the experience, even in the loneliest of moments.

Rarely do mothers talk about the lonely side of breastfeeding.  Rarely do you hear advice to new mothers about how it will be challenging and sad at times (though, yes, oh-so-worthwhile).  It's hard to feel like you are missing out because your baby needs you - and THAT'S OKAY to admit...but, it's also an enormous step towards the selflessness that parenthood demands you engage in - and that's a remarkably beautiful gift that I could never have anticipated.  Breastfeeding helped teach me that.

Above all, no one ever told me how many times I might find myself perched in the back seat of my car with a blanket clumsily laid across my shoulder as I urgently nurse my child and haphazardly spray breastmilk across the floorboard...because, when baby's hungry, everything else waits.  Friends wait, dinners wait, movies wait, shopping waits...and so do you.  And waiting is hard.  And while I waited I couldn't help but ask myself again and again "Is THIS what mothers DO?  Is this what moms have been doing all along and never said - this is what I do - I sit in the back of my car and try not to spray milk all over my backseat windows before spending too much money at Target a mere fifteen minutes later.  Wow."  True story.

While I didn't experience the hardship of latching or milk production, I did experience challenge in another area of breastfeeding:  work.  With Matilda, I went back to work three months after her birth.  This came with a host of emotional challenges, but very near the top of the list was my new responsibility in becoming an expert breast-pumper...something I'd never considered being excellent at. It was a scary contraption that looked like something out of a Men In Black movie, and I was pretty sure that I would be the first woman in history to somehow make the evening news headlines due to some battle I would encounter with this particular device.  Nevertheless, it was me against the breastpump and I rose to the challenge.

How long will it take to pump?  How often do I need to?  Where do I go?  Will people notice?  Again, a new string of questions rattled my brain with fears as I walked back into my cubicle.  I worked almost exclusively with men on a daily basis, and so it felt like a foreign land where no one would sympathize with my amount of baggage I had to travel with.  But, after a few awkward conversations and a few days of carrying an extra sweater around in my purse "just in case" my breasts exploded at my desk...I began to get into a rhythm that accomplished what my baby and I both needed.

A few weeks into this new routine, and I had become a super-spy on a mission for milk.  With only 30 minutes for lunch, I had gotten the womanly art down to a science, and felt like a CIA agent - sneaking into the code-locked "nursing closet", quickly changing out of my attire and hooking up my pump, acquiring the assets, slipping back into my garments, and back out on the street in a flash as if nothing had ever occurred.  My sleek, black, messenger bag pump left no one the wiser to my whereabouts, and that's pretty much how I liked it.

A full year of this routine took place.  My dedication to breastfeeding impressed even myself, and I still look back on that time as one of privilege more than sacrifice.  Besides, it gave me some of the quietest moment of my entire life...just me, my peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, and the lulling whir of my breast pump...how can I not be grateful for that kind of simplistic moment?  But, it wasn't easy.  So - for all those mothers making it work at work...kudos, bravo, and keep it up!  Do your best to savor those quiet moments, they surely don't last forever.

And neither did breastfeeding.  That first year of Matilda flew by in a flash, even with each glorious and burdensome feeding.  My breastfeeding Matilda came to a sudden halt (for a variety of reasons) when I became pregnant with my second daughter.  And new questions arose as I approached a new phase of life (literally) as I instantly grieved the loss of breastfeeding while excitedly anticipated the coming of a new baby.

Come back tomorrow to find out what challenges breastfeeding brought the second time around...and how I dealt with saying goodbye to this wonderful phase of motherhood...

READERS:  Share your breastfeeding stories!  What has your experience been?  How did you feel supported in your journey in breastfeeding?

pardymama: The Clip Show

Hello world!  And welcome to the new PARDYMAMA!  As you might notice, I've had things spruced up a bit around here.  Hooray - the new design is rocking my face off and I hope you are loving it too.  Redbud Designs is to thank, and I'm so stoked to show off the new pardymama site as it inspires me to keep posting more and more.  So - what do you think?

I figured if there were ever a time to re-introduce myself - maybe this is it.  In other words, this is the clip show of blog posts.  So, some of you who are closest to me might find yourselves bored to death reading this post (yes, yes, two girls, a husband, needs coffee, yadda yadda yadda) but I hope that it can help others who stumble upon the site (or who have had my favorite friends [hug] pass it on to them) to sit a spell and look forward to checking in again and again.  Who knows.  All I know is that God is keeping me writing.  God is keeping the content coming and the coffee flowing, and so, I will continue to pour out whatever content that is supposed to be out here in the world instead of just stewing and rotting in my brain (there's always plenty left for that anyway).  So - what's pardymama all about?  Here we go...

Motherhood.
I sort of initially started to blog in 2010, not long after the birth of my first daughter, Matilda.  If you're as bad at math as I am (it's okay, I think there should be a support group out there for those of us who still use our fingers to count for everything from dollars to calories to how many children we have on a daily basis) that makes her just over 2 and a half (this "half" is very important in the toddler world).

I didn't think anyone would actually ever read what I wrote.  I don't mean that in a pathetic, self-pity sort of way.  I mean it in a "I am not going to be one of those mom bloggers who puts everything out there and writes stuff like her baby's birth story and breastfeeding at the office" sort of way.  Ha.  But then when I became pregnant with our second daughter, the inspiration was too fascinating to ignore.  I had real, life-altering events happening to me on a nearly daily basis, and I needed an outlet to survive.  So, I just sort of kept writing about them.

And, turns out, there are other moms in the universe besides me (really?) who aren't sleeping (huh?) and don't have much more than a cup of coffee and a prayer to keep them going through the day (who knew?) and sort of actually like to hear about how my girls are driving me so insanely crazy that I constantly walk the boundary line between frantic frustration and utter in-love-ness with them each and every day (you too?) and how motherhood is teaching me more about life and love and God than I ever thought possible even though there are times when I want to just huddle in a corner, plug my ears, and sing the Friends theme-song so loud that it drowns out the noise of any needs I might not be able to meet.  And I wake up the next day.  And I do it all again.  And so do you...and we are all crazy together.  

Marriage.
I love being married.  A lot of people might say "I love my husband" and I do, but I also just love the idea/entity/purpose of marriage itself.  To choose every day to put another person before yourself, to stick with them, to stand beside them and hold them through the most beautiful and horrendous moments in your life and to share them as one united perspective...well, it blows my mind.  God's design of marriage is nothing short of a miracle, and the fact that we choose to be around each other after seeing each other puke or having two crazy babies or not sleeping for weeks on end or asking him a million times to take out the trash or forgetting over and over to pack him a lunch (well, you can see that we have plenty of practice left before we conquer the art of marriage) it's pretty much just amazing.  But, it's not a flourishing garden if left unattended.

Having lived through a wicked divorce in my early twenties, I've learned the depth of God's grace and redemption and exactly what it means to lay down yourself and take on the humility and love that Christ offers for us all.  I know what loneliness feels like.  I've tasted bitterness and hate.  I've felt the lies of insecurity and shame.  I know how slowly time passes when your soul is healing and everyone identifies "who you are" with "what you've been through".   And I've lived to tell about it.  And I've survived to rejoice in the new day.  And I'm here to celebrate marriage and be honest about what it can take to make it good and lasting (Jesus Jesus Jesus).

And my husband and I are silly and intentional and have ridiculous rules of fun that I want to share with the universe out there - you know, the universe with that ugly statistic half of us are now part of.  That universe that keeps us unsatisfied and looking for more.  And, instead, I'm determined to create and live in a place that God intended for us...an environment that can nurture selflessness and togetherness and keep our love humming and drumming for years and years and many date nights to come...through thick and thin, puke and craziness, kids and pets and all of it.

Mayhem.
If there is one thing the Pardys are known for, it's going to be this:  mayhem.  Just walk by our apartment and you will most likely hear someone screaming, be it out of elation, naughtiness, genius, joy, anger, or hunger...we are a spirited bunch.  I am adamant about desiring to live a transparent life.  I think Satan motivates pride and discontent under the guise of shame and insecurity...and so, I highly value the art of spewing my guts out for all to see.  Pretty, right?  Maybe not.

But, I don't pull any punches when it comes to how God is working in my life or how honest it may get around here.  I'll tell you one thing, I'm not into shock value.  I'm into honesty.  Certainly I will tell grand tales that are exaggerated in the storytelling of them...but, the emotions and lessons behind them all will be sincere and genuine, I promise.

I want non-parents to know what this life of parenthood is like before they might enter into it.  I want other husbands and wives to feel validated and encouraged when they are questioning how to keep loving their spouse.  I want moms to feel hugged on with every word of mischief I write about my girls.  I want the world to be so full of these stories of hope and honesty and conversations (i.e. this is where you come in) about how marriages and parenthood keeps getting better and better that we drown out the complaining and lies and reality shows and billboards that are frighteningly threatening what our hearts truly desire.  But, it's not a journey we take alone, or silently, or without a few messes along the way.

Looks like this blog is here to stay and I hope you are too!  I'm excited to see where pardymama is headed, what stories are to come, how the tales will roll out, and what God may or may not show us all through this weird world of internet that connects us together in a little hub of chaos.

I love questions, I love comments, I love hearing from each and every one of you who stumble upon this little blog.  I love your stories, I love your honesty, I love it when you share how God is working in your own little world.  I love being a mother, being married, and the mayhem that each new day brings my way.  I also love those little toothpicks with the tiny cellophane frills on top.  (See, I'm random like that.)

I hope that this little ole blog can be a giant hug for you every time you visit (Pardys are huggers, not hand shakers, btw) and that you keep checking in for a good dose of reality on a regular basis.  Cause, Lord only knows, there plenty more crazy left to be written.

Murphy's Law: Baby Edition

We've all heard of Murphy's Law...c'mon, you know the old adage:  If something can go wrong...it will!

Never has this statement felt truer in life, than in parenthood.  Of course they tell you before the baby arrives that everything in your life is about to change.  You get warnings about things taking longer that they used to, or that you should get your rest in while you can.  You could be a millionaire if you got a nickel every time you heard how there will never be enough time or money or sleep to store up before the baby enters your world.

But, once you've crossed the threshold into parent-dom...once, you've got that baby home and you truly start to grasp the utter magnitude of exactly what has happened to your life...well, that's when it starts to sink in.  Nothing could have prepared you for this little being.

To say that children remind you how the only thing predictable in life is that it is unpredictable is an understatement.  So, I'd like to entertain you for a moment, and present to you what I like to call:

Murphy's Law:  Baby Edition

1.  If you are wearing black, you are about to get spit-up on.
2.  If you are running late, you are guaranteed a poop blow-out as soon as you get the baby in the car seat all ready to go.
3.  Dress the baby in whatever fancy outfit grandma sent prior to grandma's visit, and most certainly that baby will either poop or spit-up on said fancy outfit just moments before grandma arrives.
4.  If baby hasn't ruined the outfit before grandma arrives...just wait until grandma holds the baby and the baby will ruin grandma's outfit.
5.  If you are planning on an expensive photo session, the baby will either break out in hives or fall and get a giant goose egg size lump right in the middle of the forehead the night before.
6.  If someone is praying, the baby is tooting.
7.  If someone is silent, the baby is tooting.
8.  If you happen to toot, most definitely someone else is holding the baby so you can't blame it on the baby.
9.  If you just had the carpet cleaned, your baby is about to get the stomach flu.
10.  Put the baby down for a nap if you want firetrucks, sirens, or random construction work to begin on your street.
11.  The one day your baby sleeps late is the one morning your gardeners will come early.
12.  At the end of the week, after your longest day at work, right when you are the absolutely most exhausted, it is guaranteed to be the night your baby will not go to bed.
13.  Your baby will most definitely wake up extra early the morning after #12.
14.  The baby will say "mama", "dada" or whatever other amazing new word they just started saying a million times...until you get grandma on the phone to hear it.
15.  Your baby will take those precious first steps only if you aren't looking...and then, as soon as you look you see your baby has fallen, gotten a new lump on the forehead, and lucky for you a new photo session with grandma is scheduled for the morning.
16.  The one morning your baby seems willing to go to the church nursery will be the one morning some other baby gets dropped off with the flu.
17.  If you just had your hair done, your baby will be fixated on yanking it.
18.  If you just got new glasses, your baby will be determined to claw them off your face.
19.  The baby always knows the difference between the real tv remote and the toy one...and will somehow find a way to not DVR the series finale of your favorite show.
20.  As soon as you rock your baby to sleep, you will realize you forgot to put sheets on the crib mattress.
21.  If you pack an extra jacket for the baby, the weather will be perfect.
22.  If you completely forget a blanket, there will be a snowstorm.
23.  If you forget the diaper bag, there is guaranteed an explosion of bodily fluid of some sort, most likely in a public setting.
24.  The baby will burp as soon as you stop trying to burp the baby.
25.  If the baby smiles, it's just gas.
26.  If the baby has gas, the baby will scream bloody murder all night.
27.  If you are a light sleeper, your baby will remind you of how you are a light sleeper a dozen times a night.
28.  If you are a deep sleeper, the baby will cure you of that.
29.  As soon as you sit down to a hot meal, the baby will need something from the other room.
30.  If you are nursing the baby, the baby will unlatch as soon as you have a let-down.
31.  As soon as the baby latches on and you start to feel comfortable, your phone will ring from the other room and it most certainly will be a very important call you absolutely can't miss.
32.  This very important call will probably be your husband telling you he will be late coming home from work, which will be the one evening your baby decides to not be comforted by you and only wants daddy.
33.  As soon as daddy holds the baby, the baby will only want you.
34.  If your baby shows signs of illness, all symptoms will disappear as soon as you take the baby to the doctor - and promptly return as soon as you get home.
35.  Regardless of how much advice you ask for, the doctor will always just tell you that your baby is fairly normal.
36.  Regardless of how much advice you don't ask for, your friend will always tell you that you have an easier baby than she does.
37.  Regardless of how much advice you deserve, your mother will always tell you how much your baby is exactly like you were (usually when the baby is misbehaving or acting out horribly in public or not sleeping or throwing a tantrum).
38.  If your baby loves bath time, your baby is never dirty.
39.  If your baby hates bath time, your baby is never clean.
40.  If you pick up all your baby's toys and there is one you are missing...don't worry, you will find it by stepping on it in the middle of the night, trip, and nearly kill yourself.
41.  Even if you vacuum eight times a day, your baby will find the one crumb you missed.
42.  Your baby's favorite toy/blanket/stuffed animal will most definitely get lost in a store somewhere on a day you are running late.
43.  If you are brave enough to venture on a long car ride, brace yourself for hearing the baby cry the entire trip up until ten minutes before you arrive - when they will finally crash asleep, only to awake as soon as the car comes to a final stop.
44.  The only tv show that will capture your baby's attention is the one show you always vowed to never allow your baby to watch.
45.  This show has the world's most annoying theme song that will replay in your head and keep you up all hours of the night - but only the hours of the night when your baby is sleeping peacefully.
46.  Your baby will happily be held by others, until you actually say out loud how well your baby does being held by others, then the baby will only want you.
47.  Your baby will start teething the minute you run out of Tylenol.
48.  The baby will smile, look at you, and keep the hat/headband on their head...until you actually take the photo.
49.  If the baby smiles, looks at you, and keeps the hat/headband on their head for the photo...someone else has their eyes closed.
50. As soon as you feel like you have a grasp on this whole parenting thing and you decide to announce to the world that you are pretty sure "we're done having kids"...you are sure to find out you're pregnant again.


Whew!  I hope you enjoyed that list as much as I had fun making it!  So, you can stop giving yourself a hard time about not feeling prepared...remember, it's all the baby's fault.  :)

Early Bird

This morning I had to be at work at 6:30am for a very atypical morning film shoot (I work in the video department of marketing at a university). I had planned ahead as best I could - lunch packed, clothes laid out, and most importantly...went to bed early. Josh had class till late and Tilda fell asleep at 9pm, so I decided to take a page out of her book and try to catch some early zz's myself.

It wasn't a great night, she was up at 12, 3, and 5am for quick night feedings. Then, after 5am she decided she'd had her fill of sleep and food and just wanted to be awake...talking...loudly. So, poor Josh had to also get up at that ungodly hour and snuggle the cute talkamaniac until she drifted off back to sleep - by which time I was long gone, on my way to work and trying to trick my brain into wakefulness with each sip of my decaf.

As I made it through the day, I seriously started doubting the benefit of my go-to-bed-early logic. Turns out, you just can't displace sleep no matter how hard you try. I mean, I don't even want to know what state I would have been in if I hadn't gone to bed early - but even so, nothing can make up for those lost hours.

Why is that?

It works in any other part of life! Calories in - calories out. Money in - money out. Gasoline in - gasoline out. You put in extra, you take out extra and so on and so forth...tit for tat if you will. Then it dawned on me: sleep is dependent upon TIME...and that, you just can't make up for.

Food, money, gas...any thing you can replace in life. You can get more of it, lose it, give it away, but time, just like sleep, can't be stored up for later. Use it or lose it, so they say. Or better yet - you snooze you lose...literally!

I always tried "sleep displacement" in college too. It seemed to work at the time, but my schedule was inundated with naps and highly caffeinated breaks. When I was finishing my degree in Tennessee I would even sleep on the grass or in the back of my car whenever I had the chance. If I didn't think it would get me fired (or at the very least some strange looks) I might be tempted to try that even today! Some days I will walk by students basking in the Southern California sunshine and look longingly at the freedom they take for granted now.

But alas, now I am a grown up. I've exchanged my lawn naps for meetings and my caffeinated lunches for a bagged lunch in the women's nursing lounge. But, you know - even if I could hold on to time, I wouldn't go back to those days. I wouldn't even store up sleep if I had the chance (don't ask me this at three in the morning!) I think I would just like to have a time-slower-downer-dial instead - slowing down the moments I know are most fleeting. The quick little smirks in the morning from Miss Talky Pants, for example. Now that - that I would store up and slip in my pocket and carry with me to relive again and again the rest of my life.

Some things are worth getting up early for - work just ain't one of em.

Night Pardy

I used to not be a "morning person" at all. Then I had a baby. Now, I'm not really a "daytime person". I'm doing better. Matilda is up to one 4 hour, sometimes 5 hour stretch in the night and then another 3 hour stretch after that. Yes, if you do the math, that is the recommended 7-8 hours of sleep a real live working adult human being should be getting every night. Turns out though, if you break up that 8 hours in to two (or three or four) segments a night, then it doesn't quite count the same. I fear Matilda is taking after me, though. I don't even know the last time I slept entirely through the night. And I take after my mother who has the same problem. It's not like we don't want to sleep - trust me - but our brains just won't turn off.

I know what you're thinking - caffiene. Nope, I'm caffiene free. Exercise? Take Valerian root? I've tried it all, I think I'm just born that way. And that's fine, I'm not really out to find a remedy. And really Matilda is a good sleeper, she just wakes up to eat once (or twice) and then goes back down. I mean, if someone had a meal prepared for me in the middle of the night and I knew it was readily accessible if I would just wake up - I would probably wake up too.

"Yawn."

"Here's your blueberry waffles and fresh squeezed orange juice, madam, prepared bedside as you like it."

"Ah, thank you."

"Now, back to sleep."

Yes, I would probably get up for that. (Not that I'm preparing waffles for Matilda, but I imagine she doesn't know the difference at this point.)

What's bewildering about the mid-night feeding is that I totally don't mind it. Sure, occasionally I would like to take an ambien with a shot of nyquil and crash for about three days straight...but, I actually have been cherishing these little moments of (usually) quiet when my baby girl strictly needs me all to herself. She is usually in a bit of a daze, not sure of what comfort she seeks. She'll cling to me like a snuggly koala baby and fill her belly, then roll back, drunk on total contentment. I know that it won't last forever. Soon she will be sleeping through the night, and one day she'll be a little sleepaholic like her father and I'll have to drag her out of bed even if it's Christmas morning.

So, to all those bragging parents who flaunt their child's amazing narcoleptic schedule, "Oh, she's not sleeping through the night? Huh, yeah, my baby sleeps like 10 hours straight and then has three naps and I usually get so much done that I end up cooking and freezing extra meals for the week while I'm knitting sweaters for the homeless"...yeah, you know who you are - well, I see your extra time and raise you a snuggly moment. I wouldn't trade it for a wink.

Decaf Soy Latte with an Extra Shot of Crazy, Please

Today was my first day back in the office. I'm blessed to be able to have a new baby-mam-friendly schedule, so I'm only in the office three days a week. Still, I was not looking forward to leaving my new baby. Josh's sister, Katie, and her 20-month-old, Sofia, come to our place to care for Matilda - so, the situation is super ideal, and I'm so thankful for it - but, let's face it, it's hard not to feel guilty when you look into those big baby eyes and bid farewell.

The morning went smoothly and Josh and I picked up donuts for the staff on our way to work. It was a little surreal. I'd been gone for 3 months, yet if it weren't for the fine layer of dust coating my desk I could've believed I had never really left.

I propped up the nearly life-size Matilda photo on my desk and started up the ole computer - "Howdy Dwight, (my computer is named Dwight, a-la-The-Office) it's been a while."

Getting coffee with Josh later that morning, a co-worker of ours overheard me ordering decaf. He elbowed Josh, "Does that decaf mean anything?"

Pause.

What? This is my first day back from a three month maternity leave! Is this fellow seriously implying I might possibly be pregnant again? I was struck with a few options:

1. Tell him I was on the Biggest Loser.

Maybe he never knew I was pregnant. This would be virtually impossible since everyone on campus saw me expand into the goodyear blimp before their eyes - but, hey, maybe he just thought I was at fat camp for the last few months and his elbowing Josh is more of a congratulatory gesture for finally getting his wife to stop letting herself go. Hm, unlikely.

2. Spit-take.

Who out there hasn't wanted to spit liquid through their face out of exacerbation to a shocking response? Seriously, this would be such a great time to spew that decaf and laugh uproariously at the notion I could so-soon be knocked up again.

3. Tell him exactly what it means.

Um, it means that you should probably stick to your regular coffee because you need to wake up and realize I just had a baby three months ago! Um, it means that you have an extra shot of crazy in your latte if you think we're gearing up for another year of human-growing already! Um, it means that you should probably help my husband up off the floor since you took him so off guard that the thought of my being pregnant is about to give him a heart attack.

"It means I'm breastfeeding and I like sleep."

"Oh."

(In the real world, if you ever want to put the kibosh on any topic - just some how bring up breastfeeding and it will be so awkward that people will instantly forget how the topic came up and therefore the direction of the conversation will be forever-changed. Yet another lifelong benefit of breastfeeding - but that's for another blog, another day.)

That decaf helped trick my brain into no-you-haven't-been-up-since-5am mode and get me through the rest of the day. Katie was alive and standing with both children injury-free by the time I got home (three cheers for Katie!)

Now, if I can just do this all again tomorrow.