Getting ready for JR's 3rd ~ the invitations

 Before I send out the "formal" invitations to any even JR is hosting,

I always like to send out a Save The Date email. Above was created from a Clipart image I found online.

Once the email goes out and I hear back from the guests,

I start working on the traditional paper invites.

For this party, I decided to create multi-colored invites to match the multi-colored balloons

JR will have at her party.

What you need:

* Craft paper cut into 5 X 7 rectangles

* Multicolored plain balloons

* Ribbon

* Stickers for extra decorations

* Sharpie pen, I went with red

* Scissors

The invitation itself will be written on the balloons.

To do that, blow up the balloon just a little, and while holding it shut with one hand,

write down the details of the invite with the other using the sharpie pen.

You will end up with something similar to the above.

The writing is not exactly straight, but that comes with the fact that the balloon itself is not!

Deflate the balloon.

Puncture two holes in your craft paper and thread the ribbon through both sides.

Insert the tip of the balloon between the ends of the ribbon, tighten and tie the ribbon from the back.

Decorate with stickers and add any fun phrase you want to the invitation.

I decided to put the address on the back of the card so as not to crowd the front

or have too much writing on the balloon itself.

Voila!

You now have yourself a fun, creative birthday invite

the recipients will enjoy until the birthday itself.

A "physical" reminder

What you see is bed rest at its best. While I was admitted to the hospital on 12/4, the wrist band is yet to come off*. You might call it laziness. I call it intentional.

Although I have had multiple occasions to have it cut off, I chose to keep wearing it a little longer. I feel like it is the materialisation of my inner voice telling me insistently to get back in bed, and stay there. It serves to hold me accountable to what I am signed up for, both willingly and unwillingly. It accompanies me when I am alone with my thoughts and whims.

It speaks of a time when time stood still and life came to a screeching halt. On December 3rd, I thought I hit the end. I saw my life flash before my eyes and prayed that this was not "it." I was not ready for this pregnancy to be over, and yet all the signs were pointing in that direction. On that sunny Monday in Arlington, my contractions grew stronger and closer together and I imagined myself being wheeled in to conclude this phase of my life. My senses heightened and panic struck in. It surely isn't time. It couldn't be time. I didn't want it to be time. All I could do is pray.

An email, a phone call and a trip to the pharmacy later, modern medicine kicked in and saved the incident. My contractions slowed down, but my mind continued to race and my body continued to change. I found myself paging the specialist early Tuesday morning: something was not quite right and I needed solid proof otherwise. Proof that could only be furnished through monitoring, prodding and probing. The 2 hours Jeff and I spent in L&D that morning were nerve-wrecking and eye opening: life changes so fast, anything can happen, and hardly anything is under your control. Then, the machines stopped and we got sent home.

Since then, I have been taking it even more easy on myself. When I thought that I could not slow down any further, I found more ways to shed off "must do's," "should do's," and "to do's." Again some people might label it laziness, but here again I call it intentional. We expect so much out of ourselves and the people around us, it is amazing we ever sit down and look around. Even on bed rest I was thinking up ways to make sure life around me continues the way I had "organized" it. But what I realised is that letting go, loosening the grip, and allowing others to do things differently is okay. In fact, it is more than okay; it is enriching. And while I had been working for a long time on "changing" myself, my perspective, my behavior, I had made little progress. Now, though, with my forced bed rest, the physical reminder I wore, and the growing belly I am carrying, that change has come to me. It has sought me out and I cannot resist it anymore. I have to give in, and I have given in. Slowly I have become a different person, and this new person is someone I am proud of and hoping will stay even long after my physical reminder is shredded.

*My OB ended up cutting it for me at my last visit on 12/10.

High Risk Pregnancy "Favorite" Things ~ 2

... In alphabetical order

Cerclage ~ the reason I still have a baby growing inside of me at 26 weeks. A simple procedure with life-changing effects.

E-mail ~ and not just to stay in touch with friends. But also to get in touch with my OB when he is out of phone reach on the weekends, holidays and on travel.









Endovaginal Ultrasounds ~ the technology that allowed the doctor to discover my incompetent cervix, and the method by which we continue to monitor my progress. This is a shout out to machines!


Free parking ~ how I am getting rich! While I used to have to pay $4 per doctor visit just for parking, we now have access to free parking both at my OB's office and at the specialist's office. Talk about cost adding up when you have doctor visits almost every week.





Glucose tolerance test ~ both because I made it this far in my pregnancy to be able to take it, and because I am able to take it home! The test itself is unappetizing, but what is stands for speaks volumes.

Nurses ~ they are heaven sent. I have loved all the nurses that have been involved in my care. I honestly do not know how they do it.

Speed Dial ~ unlike most people I have my OB's and MFM's phone numbers on speed dial. That's how I can get to them with a click of a button instead of going through my phone book.

The Story: What happens next ~ Weaning

According to Dr. Sears, weaning is not “something that you do to a child. Weaning is a journey from one relationship to another.” He goes on to explain that “the key to healthy weaning is doing it gradually.” Through weaning, mothers are helping their children move into a new phase of development, “not forcing him into it.” He warns that weaning by desertion is “traumatic.” And yet, that was the only option for JR and I.

I could have told you then, and can tell you now, that neither one of us was ready to let go of the other. You can call it codependence, you can call it mutual need, you can call it attachment. Whatever you call it, it was one of the strongest rings in the chain and all of a sudden it had to be cut off. It still breaks my heart to recall how it had to be done. You could not have bestowed a harsher sentence on either one of us at that time, and probably still cannot do. Being asked to let JR go in that way, after having just been asked to let go of her potential sibling, was more than I could take at once. As for JR, the poor little girl did not know what hit her. One day she was attached to my breast and the next she was being forcefully removed from it. And it took no less than 5 people colluding together to do that.

Those were long days, and even longer nights. Friends and family offered their support in every way they could. Some took JR out, others distracted her when at home. People brought me literature, breast compresses, and cabbage. I took showers, sat through engorgement and lived through the pain. I heard JR’s cries, saw the look on her face, and felt her reaching out. But I could not reciprocate. I had to let her go. I hardened my heart and distanced myself from her. She had to be physically removed from my company, and she resisted. She was fighting for what she knew best, and wanted most. She cried when she saw me and she cried when she saw her Grandma and Teta walk in the door; she knew they were there to take her “away.” She did not want to go, she did not want to play. But the one thing she wanted, she no longer could have. It was a sad time in the Mike household, but we all needed to make sacrifices. It was too bad that JR had to do it at such a young age.

And one day, it was over. Everything I had worked towards in the realm of breastfeeding came crashing down. All the research, the worries, the talks with the lactation consultants, the hours with the pump, the stash in the freezer, everything became a distant, a memory, an icon of another time and place.  My supply dried up, my breasts stopped aching, my pump was put away, and JR learned to live without. But my heart still hurts and my eyes still well up when I think back. We were not ready, it was not fair, and it should not have happened that way. I wish I could go back and undo it, redo it, or not have to do it, but I cannot. It was a tough lesson, but maybe it was for the best. It was crash course introducing me to the art of “letting go.” Maybe it is time I let go of that time.  Maybe it is time I threw out the last of those frozen compresses that, at the time of writing this, still calls my freezer “home.” I had been holding on to it for all this time, but maybe I should let go.

I want her to remember: A letter to Jannah-Rae

I want JR to remember the hours I spend in the kitchen making meals for her and us. And how much I enjoyed spending these hours in the kitchen.

I want JR to remember how I would sit her down in the kitchen and let her "help" me put some of these meals together. And how fun it was.

I want JR to remember how I would rush to make her a dish/dessert/snack she would ask for, right then and there.

I want JR to remember that her requests were, and always will be, very important to me.

I want JR to remember how I wear my hair up, my nails bare, and my face natural.

I want JR to remember how I dress simply and practically.

I want JR to remember that she always had nice clothes to chose from, but that when she asked to spend the day, and go out, in her pyjamas, Mama said yes.

I want JR to remember that essence is more important than show.

I want JR to remember how even when Mama is busy, she always tries to make time for her. And how I try to maintain a conversation with her, even as I am driving.

I want JR to remember how I drop everything I am doing and bend down, open my arms, and take her in when she comes toddling out of the room when she wakes up in the morning. And, how I do that whenever she walks in the door after being gone without me.

I want JR to remember how she brought happiness, and stress, and challenge, and innocence, and fun. And, how raising her is both a source of joy and worry.

I want JR to remember the hours I spent holding her, cuddling her, reading to her, singing to her, and sitting by her side till she fell asleep. The months she spent in the baby carrier, strapped to my chest or my back. The years she spent to my side, holding my hand, asking me to hold her.

I want JR to remember the times we sat together, and how she would look me in the eyes and say "Mama, talk to me!" or "Mama, let's talk."

I want JR to remember the bubble baths we took together, with me sitting in the tub with her. And, the tears she shed when it was time to wash her hair.

I want JR to remember that no matter how old she grows, how far she goes, or how much she changes, she will always be my Jannah-Rae.

I want JR to remember that no matter what happens, I will always be there for her. Always be her Mama.

 

 

Lessons from bed: Eating Mindfully

When was the last time you actually savored what you were eating? Took a good look at what was in front of you before you stuck it in your mouth? Smelled it? Inspected it? Appreciated it? Do you ever notice how a baby ponders new foods before introducing them into her system? Look at Jannah-Rae and remember how it was with first foods: a discovery, an adventure, an experience for the senses, an exploration.

Before bed rest I was lucky to even have time to eat. I was constantly rushed through meals, skipped meals, or ate whatever was on hand at the time. Like most moms, sit down meals were a luxury, not a right. When I had a chance to eat in silence, I would scarf down whatever I had microwaved and move on to the next item on my list. Eating was just "another" thing to get done, nothing worth "engaging" in, "appreciating" or "talking about." Even when Jeff and I went out to eat, I was in a hurry; in a hurry to order, in a hurry to get my food, in a hurry to eat, and in a hurry to get the check. It was never about the experience; food served one purpose: sustenance.

That was then. Now, I have all the time in the world, and pretty much nothing to do. So, what I get a chance to do, I do well. No more cutting corners, rushing through tasks, or running on empty. When I eat, I do it with purpose: to nourish my body and the growing body inside of me. I pace myself, take small bites, chew slowly and swallow consciously. I actually put the fork down between mouthfuls, and carry on a conversation during a meal.

I now start and end my meals almost at the same time as Jannah-Rae, when in the past I would sit waiting for her to finish her meals. This has made meals more enjoyable. I no longer feel like it is a "waste of time" to eat, but rather look forward to sitting at the table for however long it takes for the two of us to finish our meals joyfully.

I am eating less, I noticed, and differently. Although I have always been aware, and picky, of the food I eat, I now choose my food even more carefully: more rainbow colors, less medium rare; more fresh, less fried; more natural. less refined. What I eat matters for two, and being on bed rest is a constant reminder to bring mindfullness to every aspect of my life, including food.

High Risk Pregnancy "Favorite" Things ~ 1

... In alphabetical order

Bed (with or without JR!) ~ the hours I have spent here: eating, drinking, snuggling, sleeping, resting, reading, writing, playing, thinking, praying. But this bed is not coming with us on our next move. I think it has served its purpose and needs to be replaced in our next phase in life.



Couch ~ yes, it is dressed up with a sheet. So much of life happens on this couch lately that I needed to preserve some of its integrity by covering it up. This couch was sent to me from Lebanon and I want to stretch its life span as much as I can.






Insurance ~ what has saved our savings through the numerous doctor visits, hospital stays and sonograms.






Laptop ~ when I don't want to get up to the couch, I use it as an alternative to the TV. JR and I also spend quality time in front of it "reading" books online.

Money ~ while being pregnant with JR, I was actually "making" money. This time I am "spending" it. But its all a small price to pay for what the future holds: another little miracle that will one day grow into a wonderful human being.

Online Shopping  ~ the only way JR acquired warm boots and pants for the season.

Prescriptions and OTC medicines ~ for someone who has a personal dislike to pills, I have become a devoted "pill-popper." I have 3 that I take daily, 2 that I take multiple times a day, and 1 that I call upon occasionally. I even have a list of medications that I now carry with me, lest I forget to report one or two.

Wheelchair ~ my new form of transportation. Our building manager was kind enough to lend me one she had and saved me the hassle of having to go through the motions to get one on my own.