Touch Wood

Touch wood, nursing is going much better.  I still experience some pain between feedings, especially when I am cold (vasospasm?).  But I am pain free while nursing about 80% of the time, which is a huge improvement.  Every day is getting a bit better as Jessica gets older and we work together on our breastfeeding relationship.  I’m so glad that I’ve stuck it out and have made it through the first month!

In addition, Jess is such a good sleeper so far.  Not only a good sleeper, but a pretty happy baby, all around.  She naps well, in her pack n play, bassinet, bouncy seat, car seat, and with mommy and daddy holding her.  She has just started taking a pacifier and can even fall asleep on her own with that in her mouth while in her bassinet.  When she is awake, she usually only cries when she’s hungry or her diaper is dirty/wet.  Otherwise, she is so alert and wants to see what’s going on with her big sisters and in our busy household!

Overall, the transition from two to three kids has gone smoother than the transition from one to two went.  Maybe it’s because Marcus was home for longer and then transitioned back to work gradually.  Maybe it’s because other than the breastfeeding, I’m feeling pretty confident and together.  Maybe it’s because we’re used to less sleep and the selflessness that comes with parenting.

Whatever the reason, things are going well.  Touch wood.


And Baby Makes Five…

…and apparently steals your blogging mojo.

Yep, you got it right–I’m pregnant with #3.

To clarify, I am pregnant with #3, living in America while my husband is still taking care of our house and lives in England, watching the girls, living with my mom, and trying to write in my free time.

Whew. Now I know where the rest of May went.

In anticipation of all the pregnancy questions that may be ruminating around in your head, here are some preemptive FAQs:

When are you due?
Baby #3 should arrive in early January. My due date is January 6th. But of course, we know all about those pesky due dates.

So wait, how far along does that make you?
I’m 9 weeks and 2 days pregnant.

Umm…aren’t their rules about telling people before the end of your first trimester?
There are. They were made up by women having their first baby, who don’t look pregnant until well into their second trimester. I am, however, having my third baby. That means I pretty much started to look pregnant the minute I conceived.

In addition, I’m pretty open about my life, and if something ever happened to my pregnancy, I’m sure I’d be writing about it anyway.

Are you hoping for a boy this time?
Who answers “yes” to this question? You set yourself up for nothing but potential disappointment and who wants to be disappointed with ANY healthy child?

On one hand, of course we’d love to see what our son would look like and what it would be like to have a boy. On the other hand, we’ve got this girl thing covered, and that’s pretty cool, too.

Are you going to find out what you are having?

There are so few real surprises in life…why ruin the surprise of your child’s gender?
Seriously? Whether you find out and cry and hug your spouse in the ultrasound room, or find out in the delivery room, is it any less of a surprise? This argument always cracks me up. I like knowing, planning, and preparing. It’s part of the fun for me, my husband, and our family!

So, expect a few baby knits, baby woes, and baby joys in Kelly’s world from now on! It hasn’t been the easiest start to a pregnancy–I haven’t felt too badly, but it is hard being without my husband for these early weeks. Luckily, I’ve had help from family, which has made it much more manageable.

For those that are curious, I’ve also stopped taking my antidepressants. This was my choice, and didn’t come on the heels of any reading or doctor’s recommendation. In fact, I always said I’d never stop even if I did get pregnant again. However, when the “pregnant” flashed on my digital pregnancy test, I stopped my 40 mg of citalopram cold turkey (which I do NOT recommend). I’m not opposed to starting them again if I can’t go any longer, and I’m in open conversation with my midwife about my depression. But for now, though I am still suffering some, I am managing it well. Again, family support has been a huge help here.

I promise, pictures, knitting, life back in America, and the like will all follow in the not-so-distant future…I’ve missed blogging, and you! Give a shout-out in the comments section if you are here!


Trial Run

I’m up before 5 AM awaiting the arrival of a little bundle of joy.

Nope, you didn’t miss the post.  I’m not pregnant.

Today I am babysitting Leila, a friend’s little girl, for the entire day while they head down to London.  She’ll be with us until around 10 PM.

I am so excited.  I adore little babies!

Of course, I know that it will be an adjustment to fit a baby into our routine.  But I am rather excited by the challenge.

It’s good practice (hopefully) if nothing else!


The Big Picture

A close friend recently blogged about the birth of Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban’s baby, and touched on how the media continue to ignore the fact that this is really Nicole’s third child. Instead, they refer to her two “adopted children” as an afterthought and an oversight.

It comes on the heels about my recent blog post about the family we make, but this situation is so much more. Not only is the media defining family in their terms, but they are setting her two older children up as outcasts in their own home.

Before I blame the media, however, I flash back to the birth announcements that I sent out after Erica was born.

Little girls are so much fun, we went and had another one!

It included her name, birthdate, weight, height, and then at the bottom, a line that says so much.

Welcomed by Marcus, Kelly, and big sister Samantha

Nowhere in the statement released by Nicole and Keith does it mention the proud or excited older siblings. No comment on the kids welcoming their new baby sister.

An attempt to shield older children from the media spotlight?


But if I were Nicole or Keith, I might make sure that my next statement to the press talks about the entire family, instead of excluding two of its members.


Where is it going?

Time, that is.

I remember this day like it was yesterday.

My sister arriving to watch Samgirl.  The sunshine outside.  The realization that another baby was going to join our family.  The realization that, yes, I’d be going through labor and delivery again (I think I’d blocked out the thought of that throughout my entire second pregnancy!).

And then, suddenly, this:

Was it really two years ago?  And now, that beautiful baby girl has turned into a toddler.  A blond haired, brown eyed, beautiful little girl.  She talks up a storm, runs everywhere, is strong willed and won’t be pushed around by anyone.  A unique and individual person, instead of just my baby.

As trite as it might be, though, she’ll always be my little girl.  Always.

Happy Birthday, Kicka!


Baby High

Ahh…I love newborns.  It doesn’t matter whose they are, either.  I love everything about that teeny tiny little bundle.  Their smell, their tiny little everythings, even their cry.

Marcus reminds me, of course, that with a newborn comes a third child, which we aren’t ready for right now.  Lots of travel we still want to do, I don’t want to be pregnant for Kiki’s wedding,  we’re far away from family here in the UK, and our girls are still young.  We have lots of time to have babies…I only just turned 29!  I know he’s right.  No more babies for a little while.

Thankfully, lots of our friends here in the UK are finally deciding to start families of their own.  I get to cuddle Leila, tickle Luke’s cute little piggy-toes, and wait anxiously for Miki and Lisa to have their little ones, too!

Still though…I remember what it was like when Sam and Kicka were babies.  Of course, I remember feeling frustrated, feeling tired, feeling overwhelmed.  Oh, boy do I remember.  But I also remember that baby high I had when they were born.  How much I loved them.  How complete our family felt after they were both born.   What a good mother I was to a newborn…they get so much harder as they get older, don’t they?


I’d better go cuddle someone else’s baby quick.  Nothing like a baby fix.