Number Three!

TimbitSo our number three arrived last Thursday, November 5th and I couldn’t be more thrilled that HE IS OUT OF MY BODY. I am also thrilled that HE is a HE! We have two precious, beautiful girls and we really wanted a boy and so here we are.

This pregnancy, similar to my other two, was very high-risk. I am not sure why my body fights gestational activities but truthfully, I don’t think anything gorgeous comes easy. I am sure everyone experiences their pregnancies differently and I admire and envy mommies who can just go to the hospital and slip one of these babies out… me- not so much!

So I was being followed by Mount Sinai’s Special Pregnancy program for 6 or 7 different conditions including Blood Pressure and Gestational Diabetes. I was also very anxious and ended up on bed rest because of my sciatic pain which rendered me immobile. I wasn’t able to drive to work or to many places actually. Some days, I couldn’t even get out of bed. Apparently the fetus decided to grow behind my placenta (anterior placenta) and his head was right on my backbones!

Anyway, 9 months of pain and immeasurable misery at various stages and TA DA- Little Timothy was finally birthed. I was booked for a third C-section on the 13th but I started experiencing contractions on November 4th so they moved my surgery to the 5th. After being bumped 4 times because there were other cases more urgent than mine, I went in for the surgery that would surely lead me to meet the little angel who was rehearsing his circus  act inside my poor, tiny uterus.

We knew it was a boy and so we were anticipating his arrival in many ways. His sisters were also very involved and his eldest, 4-year-old, would often kiss my belly and tell the baby she loved him. So sweet- right??

A few observations before I continue on the third time around for women with C-Sections- it hurts. I was really anxious because I precisely knew the pain of recovery and everything that would happen. I sweated over the procedure every step of the way and anticipated the motions and process. What I did not anticipate was how difficult or intense the pain will be the third time they cut into the scars. Was it worth it- OF COURSE but would I do it again, I think not.

I was warned by the doctor that if I have another pregnancy, things may not be so easy. *Choking on sarcastic laughter* EASY? When did I ever have an easy pregnancy really?

My third child also terrified me. I had two other babies who were whisked away to the NICU for varying reasons (per my old posts) and I was shaking with the knowledge that this one surely will be taken away too…

My fears were realized soon after Timmy was born with fluid in his lungs. As sure as the sun rises, they whisked him off to the NICU in order to put on the ugly elephant-like machine called C-PAPP to help him regulate his breathing. Once again, I had to be wheeled into the recovery room alone as I watched all the other mommas coming out of their sections with their healthy, little, blanket-wrapped bundles of joy.

I was heart-stricken and heartbroken. I felt so inadequate and started blaming myself for my inability to create perfect babies like everyone else. Postpartum depression starts right then for me…

I was recovering in one of the postpartum rooms and at 3 am, I called the nurse, woke up the husband and had them wheel me to my precious little boy. Sure enough, he had more wires attached to him than a complex robotic machine. He was breathing erratically and poked on his little newborn feet. The IV was attached to his right foot and his left foot had cotton with band aids where they prick him to take blood samples. Even after two other births of babies in NICU, I still wasn’t prepared to see him like that.

I knew that this hospital had a very high level of care. I understood that they needed to intervene as soon as possible to resolve this. I heard them tell my that this is common and will go away. I listened intently and asked informed and educated questions because the same happened with his middle sister. I was wheeled back to my room and that night all I can think about was one thing… I still have not held him yet.

I kept hearing babies on the floor crying and saw daddies walking around to calm their newborns. I stole a glance at my sleeping husband next to me and started to question what he must be thinking. I was wondering if he was starting to feel like me… numb.

Day 2 was no different. Hearing varying stories from varying experts on his recovery time. He needed to be observed for at least another 24 hours but that afternoon, I was able to finally hold him and try to nurse him. I was so excited to feel him next to my skin and see his tiny cherub face with squinting eyes directed towards me. I had forgotten how fragile newborns are and at the moment, I found peace. He opened one eye and looked at me then trustingly sighed and nuzzled closer to my breast.

I was whole then. Complete.

Next day in the afternoon, our little Tim was released to our care in my room. I couldn’t put him down in his cot. I had him sleeping on me and feeding and I just held him tight and kissed him over and over again. I couldn’t get enough of his smell or his warmth.

It is day 7 now and I am still the same way. As I type this, he is sleeping soundly in his playpen. Angelic and peaceful. I can’t thank God enough for his blessed gift to us in the form of our son. The girls adore him. They kiss him and try to hold him. I observe their interaction with him and tears instantly appear in my eyes. I feel so blessed and so much love.

The story closes here… for now. Despite it all, I am so happy now. Exhausted and in pain but overjoyed at our little family unit. I wish all moms out there and those inspired to become moms all the best in their journey towards parenting.

We will surely be going through a similar experience soon since we already discussed the eventual adoption of more little ones to our family. I am doing some research now which I will report on in my blog if my readers wanted to adopt as well. I can learn and you can learn with me!

Ok, I have to go now and feed my little one. I will be writing an entire blog next time on the miseries of breastfeeding since this is my first time successfully nursing.

Until next time,

Smartignani

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When did that happen?!

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There is nothing more painful or exhilarating than successfully potty training your child. You feel like you won an Oscar or climbed the highest mountain. The sense of achievement you felt the day you graduated or obtained your first real promotion is no comparison… as if you did this all on your own. Then the stark realization smacks you upside the head that this is what your parents must have felt like when you did something great growing up.

I don’t think I can be a prouder mommy than when my little toddler goes – “Mommy, I nee’ to Pee pee now”. We rush over to the toilet, we pull down the pants and then… the sweet sound of freedom- aaahhhh. No more pull-ups, stinky messes, nasty blow-outs or wet pants. Sooooooooo exciting!!

I look at my toddler and see the little preschooler emerging and ask – “When did that happen?!” – hence the title. But seriously, when did she start talking in complete sentences? When did she start empathizing with me (“Awww, mommy, you are so cute- are you hurt?”) When did she turn into this inquisitive, intelligent, insanely happy child?

These past few months have been challenging but fun. I have been busy trying to re-energize my business and manage my staff that I forgot to see the little changes in my big girl along the way. This morning she woke me up a little earlier and I spoke with her and played with her. She surprised me with how much she’d grown in the past three weeks. She knows which mitt goes where. She can put her boots on the right feet on her own. She understands that letters makes sounds. She know how to sing “A,B,C,D,E,F,G, next time sing, A,B,C,D,E,F,G” (and repeat) and she counted to 20!

I am in awe of how like her father she is becoming. It is really a good thing I love him so much because she reminds me so much of him. Her mannerisms, her thoughtful moments, her sweet affection and even her expressions. No surprise since she spends majority of her time with him instead of me.

I must confess that I am also tremendously enjoying my baby too. She shows me affection in her own way. She likes to be held at night and to sleep in my arms. Sure, it makes it tough for daddy to put her to bed when he is alone with her, but there is no stronger bond and no better feeling that having her fall almost instantly asleep when I carry her and rock her. She likes to hear me whisper to her and sometimes she just strokes me with her little, tiny fist. I feel especially blessed in those moments.

In the mornings, she is the happiest little baby I know. She just plays and rocks herself and flaps her little arms like wings. Her smiles and giggles are so contagious that she just subliminally compels me to pick her up so we can snuggle and play. Her demeanor is so different than her big sister. Her moods are so much milder and she is patient, calm and very stubborn!

I love them both 100% but differently. I can’t live without either of them and I am just so full of emotion when I see either of them hit a milestone or learn something new.

Between the one baby rolling and the other one peeing in the toilet, I feel like my heart can just burst with pride right now.

Until next time,

SMartignani

Multitasking Mommy

 

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So for those who know me, you know how busy I can be. I have varied interests and obligations and I thrive on being constantly and consistently booked. I don’t know why but that is what keeps me going (I sure don’t like that mommy in the image though… I wish!)

I am not complaining at all because I was blessed with so many gifts. This is one of those rare posts where I will side-step the sarcasm and defeat my natural inclination towards humour by counting my blessings.

To contextualize, two Octobers ago, I attended a wonderful feel-good session by an amazing guest speaker called Isabelle Fontaine and she told us an effective and unforgettable story about how she leveraged the feeling of gratitude to feel happy after a painful experience in her life.

 

So I am not taking this blog lightly (although my ulterior motive for this post is to explain why I haven’t posted for a long time, not an excuse- just an explanation).

Here are my blessings:

1) A God who is gracious, merciful, long-suffering and plenteous in mercy and compassion. And a Church that keeps me disciplined, deliberate in my faith and dedicated to the Lord (thank you SMSV).

2) A yummy hubby who loves me and spoils me. He cuddles me without asking and smiles my way when I need it most. How blessed I am with your love.

3) 2 beautiful daughters who appear to be surprisingly full of big personalities and vivacity.

4) My mom, dad, brother, sister, sister-in-law, nieces, nephews and parents-in-law (and Mike- ha ha) who support me, trust me and apparently find me worthy of their love.

5) An amazing business called Oxford Learning Centre with amazing staff and equally incredible families.

6) My best friends who supported me through the years and continue to be the solid splash of shining stars in the night sky of my day-to-day shenanigans.

7) My colleagues at work who are strong, beautiful and courageous- inspiring me to always be more than just good enough.

8) An awesome job at the Government of Canada that awaits me when I return from Maternity Leave. (The maternity leave itself is a blessing because I get an entire year off… I know my neighbours south of the border get only 90 days. Can you imagine leaving your baby so soon. My heart goes out to you- move to Canada!)

9) Every moment and every breath that I get on earth to live my life, cuddle my loved ones and realize my dreams.

10) My Car. I love my car. Oh and  thank you Youtube for teaching me how to knit.

Honestly, I think that is my top 10 list so far. There is so much more but I have to say the things above and the people mentioned do keep me pretty busy!

Until next time (which hopefully will be sooner than this time),

SMartignani

I hate burping.

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I don’t think there is anything more exhausting than waiting for my two-months old to burp after a feeding at 3 am. The actual feeding takes about a half hour and then comes the pat-pat-patting and cajoling until I hear the soft or sometimes loud expulsion of air from her tiny body. Sometimes she sleeps half-pat and then waiting for a burp can take upwards of one hour or so. Then there is the occasional spit-up or gas that agitates her and causes us grief until it is resolved. She is so sweet and accommodating otherwise but in the wee hours of the morning with very little sleep and even less patience, it is very challenging to accept the whining. Truthfully, I think it is quite the show when I am awake and waiting for her because it is so funny when you can see that she is visibly fighting with her burp. Sometimes, while attempting to expel gas upwards, out escapes a little fart. Too funny.

Taking about farting, no one told me how tough potty training my little toddler can be.

Whopotty training (2) knew the fear of the toilet that would embed itself so deeply in  my two-year-old’s brain or the irrational anxiety that rears its ugly head every time we ask her if she pooped.  At daycare, she sits on a small potty and plays while waiting for her bladder or bowel to move but at home, she is in instant denial when asked if she needs to go. It’s almost like she is ashamed to go around us, what’s up with that? I understand there are many ways to potty train and one effective method is taking the weekend off and just putting her in underwear where we can expect many accidents to take place until she gets it. Between you and me, I am not looking forward to asking her every two seconds if she wants to go to the washroom and I am definitely not looking forward to the bed wetting accidents and the nasty bathroom seats we have to experience afterwards. Most of all, I am not looking forward to letting go because once she becomes potty trained, she will truly be a child and no longer my baby. My heart is aching every time I see her growing up which is every day! Each day she comes home from daycare and each day I notice a difference. If you are a parent you will agree that this is a tough pill to swallow no matter how bittersweet it is.

I know I said this before, but I appreciate my mom a lot more now. Every time I see her, I understand a little more how good she was to us. And my daddy of course. I also appreciate my husband a lot more. He does so much for our family.

I am glad that the holidays are here because I can’t wait to buy the tree and decorate our house. The older one will definitely understand a little more this year and maybe even appreciate some of the presents while the baby can be just that this year… the baby of the family.

Until next time

SMartignani

Here we go… again!

709188_coming_soon2 So the OB/GYN told us that tomorrow is the big day. We are all set. I was instructed to eat lightly and pack my bag. Hopefully it will only be two days until we are back home barring any trouble or complication.

I am stoked. I am also STARVING. Eat LIGHTLY?

What does that even mean exactly? I am nine months pregnant and my little baby happens to need nourishment. This is not helping the anticipation or the excitement really. I am a little light headed and headachy. Does banana count as light food? Ok, I will stop writing about food because it is making me even hungrier.

So tomorrow is the big day. We will become a family of 4 and everything is set to go. We are dropping our toddler off at 6:20 am at the daycare and then going to the hospital to have a baby! I will be on stand-by until 10 am and then Jelly bean (name for baby #2) will be surgically extracted from me and join us here on planet earth. I am grateful that I made it this far and I feel so blessed.

It is really bittersweet, all these emotions. I am holding my little toddler extra tight tonight and telling her I love her. I know that there will be love in my heart for a second baby but I worry that I will not love the same way. My first was special in every way. I remember when she first sat up, crawled, clapped, talked. I remember every moment of the past 25 months and now I feel like I will need to remember equally hard for this one as well so there is equity in my love for both.

Did I mention I was starving?

Anyway, we decided on a girl’s name but the boy’s name is still debatable. I will come up with something but I really think it’s a girl so we will just have to wait and see.

Tonight we head to bed with the knowledge that our lives are set to change forever…again. And the best part is, I cannot wait!!

(I also can’t wait to eat again…I will have a burger, fries, sub and cake on standby as soon as I can eat… really… I know I am pathetic… leave me alone… do not judge me!!)

Until next time…

SMartignani

I am just about ready to POP!

pregnant-cartoon-image 3.5 more weeks and counting. To be honest, I am so heavy and so uncomfortable, I am just about ready to let loose and push with or without contractions. There are nights where I think I am going into early labour then there are times when I know I am just wishfully thinking.

The last month is the most painful. It feels like forever ago that I shared my secret joy of another human being harvested in my belly with my spouse and wondered days and nights if my daughter who is only two will accept the fact that a sibling will share the spotlight. It feels like an eon ago when I anticipated the arrival of my first-born and now two years later, I am anticipating the arrival of my second.

We didn’t find out the gender. We just pray that it is healthy. I pray that it comes out. Soon.

Anyway, I think that much of the anticipation this time is centred on how will the baby look because quite honestly the first one looked just like my husband. I am hoping this one takes some of my dark hair and features but you know what – who cares…. as long as it comes OUT soon, I don’t care what it looks like really.

The other day I pushed myself off the bed to get up and go to the washroom and actually felt the baby shifting in my belly as if it is swimming from one side of the belly to the other. Just like people on the Titanic when the boat was sinking and they were clinging to dear life on one side of the ship. It was a comical visual until the baby kicked me so hard I had to do a super wobble to the washroom in order to avoid making a mess. Yes, I feel like the Titanic in size and stature.

I feel slow. I forget things. I am not really focussed. I fall asleep sporadically and at random times. I lost my toes. I think my nose is inflating to the point that I can’t see past it when I look down at my enormous tatas. I am uncomfortable sitting. I am uncomfortable standing. I am uncomfortable lying down. I am moody and sad. What did you just say? I am fine. I am happy, see? I am heartburning-stomachurning-forwardleaning-backpaining ALL THE TIME and worst of all, as aforementioned, I STILL HAVE 3.5 WEEKS LEFT….

I am also getting some wicked cravings. Root Beer floats, pistachios, Feta cheese, watermelon and that was just last night. Today it was Pizza Hut, garlic shrimp and Skittles (preferably together). Last week, no word of a lie, I was craving Cream Soda, blue cheese and red velvet cake. I am sick…help me!

I wake up in the morning thinking about food. I drive to work and think about going home and napping. I nap thinking about eating and eat thinking about napping – how am I supposed to have time to DO ANYTHING ELSE??

My poor husband must think I am nuts sometimes. He is so patient and kind but even I, looking from the outside in, think to myself “Who is this witch and why is she so mean all the time? What is her issue?”

I will tell me what my issue is… I am ripe.

Cooked.

Done.

I am ready for this baby to be picked, plucked, groomed and passed into my loving arms.

I want this wait and unnecessary painful stage to end. In a good way. I am praying that soon my body will catch up with my brain and say enough is enough, I am just too little to handle all this weight and all this action.

My fetus is practicing black belt karate in there. I swear there are nights where I think there is some sort of soccer game going on in the depths of my belly. Whatever it is, I know that it better be an athlete or dancer after all that action!

I think this is enough complaining for now but I do have one thing to say- if you approach me to tell me that you think I am adorable because I am huge- save the comment to yourself and “No” you cannot touch my belly and yes I am almost there and no we don’t know the gender and yes this is my second and of course we are excited and no- YOU ARE NOT JEALOUS because you have a sleek glass of wine in your right elegant hand which I would gladly guzzle down if I wasn’t carrying precious cargo. Got it?

I hope I will be able to blog again before Jellybean is born but if I don’t because it decides to come early then… HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY…

Keep me in your thoughts.

SMartignani

Mother’s Day 2013

IMG_9299It is only appropriate since I have a mommy blog that I write something- no matter how brief about this momentous day in honour of women everywhere that are true mothers.

What? What are TRUE mothers you ask?

A mother is not someone who just delivered a baby or nursed him, a mother is much more than that. I know people who are closer to their step-mothers beyond any connection they have with their biological one. So here is my description of a true mother:

a) her heart flutters at the thought of harm to her child

b) her heart breaks with every tear her child cries

c) her mind wanders to the smallest expressions her child made that day or that week

d) her soul soars at the sound of her child’s laughter

e) her energy is directed towards making her child better, smarter and more successful than she ever dreamed to be

f) her dreams are focussed on the sole purpose of meeting her child’s need

g) her career, her ambition, her leisure comes second to her child’s needs

h) her heart sees the beauty radiating from her child no matter what he looks like or how old he is

i) her devotion is eternal, her love is unconditional and her desire to see her child happy is an obsession

 

So whether you are a mom by blood, or by adoption or a godmother or a step-mother of a mother-in-law or an inspiring woman to someone who sees you as a mom, if you feel the things I listed above- then I commend you and I know that you are making a difference in the world by your mere existence.

 

Thank you for being our example and mentor, our life-line and inspiration. God bless you mom and on this day I hope you got spoiled and recognized for everything you are and everything you do and everything you feel.

Happy Mother’s Day all!

Until next time,

SMartignani

One year Birthday Party- Dream AND Disaster!

 

Picture this:

About 45 people standing/sitting/slouching/leaning around three rooms including the kitchen. The buzz of conversation is so loud and it echoes off my hardwood floors. Half the side is Italian and the other half/third is Egyptian with a sprinkle of French, Canadian and Other. The matriarchs and my father-in-law have ceased the oven and are avidly heating beautifully prepared dishes. There is Cannelloni alongside the Goulash and cake alongside the Baklava. The crowd is friendly and all the while, the object and reason for their gathering is skillfully crawling between their unsuspecting limbs. My baby might only be turning one but this fete reviled the Film Festival in both fun and decor. With a theme like Dr. Seuss, really, how can you go wrong?

There were decals on the walls and cool looking balloons floating around. There was delicious fare (as mentioned earlier) and a Keurig that boasted an array of flavoured coffees and teas. This was a time to be jovial, a time to sing, a time for me to record all with my camera so I can prove my superior capacity as an attentive and wonderful parent!

That party was supposed to be over at 4 pm (started at noon) so that my next party for friends and their children can start at 5 pm. However, the last person from party one left at 5 pm and the first couple from party two arrived promptly at 5 pm. Thank goodness, upon the insistence of my all-knowing and always-right mother, we had cleared the remains of the earlier feast and set the table for the next party with a host of new appetizers, re-heated home-made platters and succulent finger-foods. We were ready to receive our new batch of guests.

My baby had decided to abandon ship at 1:30 and didn’t wake again until 3:00 which helped because I needed to attend to the unending stream of questions, requests and concerns as I tried to serve out my sentence, ahem, I mean act as a gracious hostess!

At 5, I decided it was time to feed my daughter linner (lunch and dinner together) because she needed to eat apparently and I may have forgotten to feed her in the crazy frenzy. She was happy and content with the lull and quiet for 15 minutes until more friends arrived with their offspring. The sheer number of kids ranging from the age of 0 (less than a year old) to nine years of age had me wishing for the earlier party with the boisterous and loving Italian/Egyptian family members.

There were screeches, yelps, whining, crying, screaming, yelling, banging and some other unidentifiable, somewhat inhuman sounds coming out of the playroom. My friends are amazing and I love them and they were always watching out for their kids but boy, it was more than evident that I NEEDED to get carpets installed to block some of the reverberating sounds. Conversations were also loudly held but everyone seemed to be having a great time. There was enough food, change tables, diapers, Band-Aids, cupcakes and toys for everyone to enjoy. Gone were the days where I needed to only worry about set-up then I can have a glass of wine or a cocktail. I realized I needed to be constantly on my toes because of the number of crawling babies in the area. So literally, on my toes.

The last small group of friends left at 10:30 and my baby was still up because God forbids she misses ANY of the action! We said our goodbyes and once the house was empty, I gave her a bottle and I am not kidding when I tell you she was asleep as soon as she began sucking on the latex nipple. She was gone within seconds and I don’t mean lightly dozing, I mean- SNAP- gone! Deep asleep, snoring- gone. It was actually quite funny to watch.

It took the hubby and me two hours to clean the house and then it was time for bed at 12:30 am. It was an exhausting and exhilarating experience but would I ever do it again?

Absolutely. Not. Never. Ever.

That’s what Chuck ‘E’ Cheeses and grandparents are for.

Enough said.

Smartignani

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