Jamilyn and Such

Does anyone even read blogs any more?  I wanted to document my thoughts about this whole 21 Day Fix Extreme process, and I thought this might be the best place.  Read if you'd like.  But this is mostly for myself. 

Lets start off with two things:

1) Having babies does some crazy things to your body.  It's awesome and amazing.  A whole human grew from a tiny cluster of cells.. IN MY BODY!  I just can't even wrap my mind around how cool that is.  But on the other hand, those little humans in there take up a lot of space where there isn't much space in the first place.  They stretch out skin and cause cravings that lead to pudge and love handles.  They spread out hips and rib cages.  Growing babies change your hormones and can lead to things like depression and anxiety.  And if you take medication for those imbalances, there will likely be side effects, like increased appetite and weight gain.  And it can be frustrating. 

I know I am definitely not alone in my post-baby body thoughts.  I would venture to stay that no woman who has ever given birth has been immediately thrilled with the new condition of her body.  All I am staying is that I have been frustrated with my lack of endurance, my lack of muscle strength, and my lack of self control when it comes to food.  And now that my baby is 16 months old, it's definitely time to do something about it... probably past time. 

2) This may seem unrelated, but stick with me.  My husband works as a nurse with a bunch of BEAUTIFUL women.  His fellow nurses, the medical assistants, the medical residents, the doctors... they are all exceptionally beautiful.  And almost exclusively women.  And the patients are definitely all women.  He has one friend who we jokingly call his "work wife" because they get along so well.  And she is beautiful.  And in awesome physical shape, even after having a baby.  I almost never feel threatened by husband's relationship with her.  She has a great relationship with her husband, and I have a great relationship with mine.  I trust him.  And I love him. 

But, one day after work, he brought home workout DVDs and said that he borrowed it from the work wife.  For me.  And it made me feel instantly insecure.  And self conscious.  And a little bit pissed off.  Because I know she is more beautiful than me.  And in better shape than me.  I know that husband didn't mean to offend me by borrowing the workouts.  He probably thought he was doing me a sweet favor by providing me with a convenient and free method for getting into better shape.  And he probably thought it was even better because he personally knows people who use this method and it works great for them.  In fact, the work wife didn't even need the DVDs any more, because the workouts had become too easy for her.  Because she had done them so much.  And she was in such good shape.  So when the DVDs arrived at our house from his work,  I was offended.  And pissed off. 

And so the work out DVDs... the 21 Day Fix Extreme DVDs, sat downstairs next to our TV.  For months and months and months while I worked on getting over myself.  I didn't even know anything about them, except for that they came from her, and she was too good for them now.  And husband thought I should give them a try. 

While the DVDs sat there, I was also working on weaning myself off of the anti-depressants I have been on for more than a year for Post Partum Depression.  I was feeling like I was getting to a better mental and emotional place, and ready to not be dependent on pills to get through the day any more.  I know about myself that exercise helps my mental and emotional health a whole lot.  So while I was getting ready to go off of the anti-depressants, I signed up for and ran my first 5k in over 3 years.  It was wonderfully fun and motivating and exciting.  And I felt awesome.  I wanted to keep up that level of activity after the race.  But I also know about myself that I don't like running when it's cold outside!  And when it gets dark early in the evening and stays dark later in the morning.  So I needed some other kind of physical activity that would challenge me and keep me going.  Something I could do inside.  Something that I could do at home. 

Enter the 21 Day Fix Extreme!

I decided to finally get over myself and give it a try.  I had no idea what I was getting myself into.  Uncharacteristic of myself, I didn't do any research about the program or it's validity.  I didn't know if it was for cardio or strength training or anything.  I just put in the first DVD, chose Cardio Fix Extreme from the menu, and pressed play. 

And It was SO HARD!  After 30 minutes of cardio intensity, I wanted to cry.  And I needed to throw up.  I couldn't walk up the stairs.  I just laid on the couch for probably an hour, just thinking.  And when I was done thinking and laying there, I decided that, even though it seemed completely crazy, I wanted to keep 21 day fixing.  I needed to keep 21 day fixing. :) For my lack of strength and lack of endurance.  And for my mental and emotional health.  And to prove to myself that I could still do things that I put my mind to. 

So I did it.  I bought the weights and pulled out my ol' resistance band.  I did 21 days of Cardio, Upper Body, Lower Body, Pilates, Plyo, Dirty 30 and Yoga Fix Extreme.  (I did take a 4 day break in the middle of my 21 day stretch due to a nasty stomach bug). 

Here is the honest truth about it.  Even on the last week of the workouts, I still couldn't do an entire workout "full out"from start to end.  More often than not, I followed along with Cherise the modifier as she did the less intense versions of the workouts.  I would crap out in the middle of push ups or use lighter weights on the second round of exercises.  I still can not do a full sit up.  But I would always end every workout drenched in sweat and feeling sore the next day.  So I know I was still working harder than I had in a loooooong time. 

I didn't lose a single pound.  I was definitely more hungry than usual, and I allowed myself to indulge, because of how much I was working.  But the good news is, I could feel my body changing and getting stronger.  As the weeks went by, I could feel myself getting better at doing the exercises with better form.  When Autumn said I should be feeling the exercise in my left hamstring, I could actually feel my hamstring working!  When she said I should be engaging my abs, I started to be able to feel my abs engaging (which definitely didn't happen the first several days... I'm not even sure if I really had abs then). After a week or so, I was able to go up and down the stairs in my house without dreading it every time.  And I could balance on one leg long enough to hold a yoga pose or do a quad stretch at the end of a workout.  On the first day of Dirty 30, I could do about 3 push ups in a row.  On the last day, I could do 24.  That's progress! 

**I try not to think about how, as a high school cheerleader back in the day, we did a push up for every point our football team scored at games.  Which was usually more than 24... I think we did 50 pushups every morning at cheer practice.  Oh to be 17 again.

Now that I'm done with the first round of 21 Day Fix Extreme, I think I am ready to go back for more.  I feel like I have just scratched the surface of what I can benefit from this workout program.  I am just barely getting the right form for the exercises.  I am just barely getting strong enough to engage the correct muscles as I work out.  And I really want to be able to make it through a whole workout doing every rep of every move.  I believe Autumn when she tells me that I need to ditch my excuses.  And that I can have strong and toned muscles. I don't need to go on and participate in Beach Body bikini competitions, but if I could look strong and healthy like Autumn or Emily or Athena, or hold yoga poses like that serenity goddess behind Autumn in Yoga Fix Extreme, I'd be down with that.  I want to keep working on my endurance and my strength and my balance and my flexibility.  I don't want my happiness to hinge on looking sexy or thin or what ever.  But I do want to take care of my body.  And it's been a long time since I have done anything to work on my health.  So I'm going to keep going. 

This time I am going to take before and after photos.  And take actual measurements.  And eat more healthily as I exercise.  As they say, health happens in the kitchen just as much as in the gym.  Last time, posting a daily instagram story check-in helped motivate me.  But this time I want to be motivated by my own numbers.  And I want to be motivated by the goal of finishing a workout I can be proud of.  I don't want my blog or instagram account to turn into a fitness report.  There's enough of that out there.  But for now, this is a big deal to me, and I want to keep it going.  So I may just check in from time to time.  I may post my before and after photos.  Or maybe not. 

I don't know.  I'm just trying to get 'Fixed. 

It's taken me a long time to get around to writing this post.  I'm not sure why.  But every time I think about writing it, instead I think of everything else I could possibly do before writing it... things like sweeping the floor, cutting my toenails, watching season after season of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. on Netflix, etc.  My delay is probably because it's taken me a long time to process the birth of our sweet new Beatrix.  Maybe because she came sooner than I was expecting.  Maybe because her birth was different than I pictured it being for the 9 months that came before her arrival.  Maybe because I think she might be the little person that completes our family, and her birth was the last time I will birth.  Maybe because our family life has been a whirlwind of change since her arrival.  But even as I went to type this all out, I turned on the playlist that I listened to as I labored with her for the first time since she was coming into the world.  And as I listened to the familiar songs, I was instantly flooded with complicated emotions.  So I'm going to get this all out onto the blog, mostly for me.  But I also love reading when other women are open enough to share their birth stories with the world.  So if you're into that sort of thing too, enjoy...

The story of Beatrix Anne Morris
Born July 18, 2016 at 12:12 pm
8 pounds .08 ounces
19.5 inches long

At our 34 week appointment with the midwives at the U of U, it was confirmed what I had been feeling for the past few days-- Instead of having her head in a downward position getting ready to be birthed, little Baby Bea was hanging out in the breech position, with her head securely nestled into my right rib cage.  The midwife assured me that I still had lots of time to get her into the right position, but that I should start trying things to get her to turn.  Thus began our adventure into flipping the little one.  I tried laying head down on a propped up board for entire episodes of 30 Rock.  I knelt on the edge of the couch and rested my head on my hands on the floor.  I took warm baths with ice packs on the top of my belly.  I played all kinds of music toward the lower part of my belly.  I did hilarious summersaults in the swimming pool, feeling exactly like a surfacing whale.  I called an entire list of natural/Chinese medicine offices and tracked down moxibustion sticks, which I burned toward the outer corner of my pinkie toes on our front porch for days in a row.  I got several chiropractic adjustments.  And through this whole journey, I was lucky enough to have access, through my L&D nurse husband, to limitless ultrasound peeks into any position changes Bea was making.  And boy was she making changes!  Every time we peeked in, she was in a new position.  She would get our hopes up by having her head down, just to frustrate us by being transverse the next time, then back to breech, and then diagonal.  But most often, I felt her cute little hard head up in my rib cage more often than not, which had me worried.  With Clementine, I had a wonderful natural water birth, and I really wanted that experience again.  But I started reading everything I could about ECVs and natural breech deliveries and the benefits vs. risks of c sections.

At our 36 week appointment, Bea was breech again.  The midwife recommended that I have a consultation with an OBGYN about how to proceed.  So later that week, we went in for another official ultrasound, followed by a consultation with Dr. Silver where we decided to schedule an external cephalic version (ECV) to try to manually flip Bea from the outside.  The day of ECV #1, I came in to the hospital really nervous and geared up for what I had heard would be a very painful and difficult procedure.  But before they did the ECV, they did one more quick ultrasound to get a good look at her position, and the little stink had flipped into the right position on her own.  Phew! So much buildup for nothing.

I had another midwife appointment at 38 weeks and 5 days.  I asked the midwife to check Bea's position, because I felt her round head up in my ribs again.  And sure enough, she was definitely breech.  Another perk of having a L&D nurse as a husband is that right from our midwife appointment, he called labor and delivery at the hospital and had the charge nurse schedule another ECV for us.  They told us to come right in, so we left straight from the clinic to the hospital and got checked in Being almost 39 weeks is getting pretty late in the game for a big ol' baby to have any room to turn.  I got a shot to relax my uterus and the doctor came in to do the procedure.  I didn't want the big narcotic pain relief drugs that they recommended to make the ECV manageable.  I just wanted Nathan to hold my hand and help me breathe through it.  Which he did.  And before I knew it, it was over and Bea was in the right position again! I said "oh, was that it?"  I had worked it up so much in my mind from all I had read and heard about how painful ECVs were.  But it was over before I even realized it.  And she flipped super easily.  What a relief.

The next step of the plan was to start an induction due to "unstable lie"... meaning that Bea had flipped around and changed positions so many times that it was in our best interest to get labor started while she was definitely in a good position.  Otherwise, she could become breech again and I could go into labor, which could create complications like a prolapsed umbilical cord.  The nurse ordered cervadil to get the induction started, but said it might take a while for the order to come up.  So I waited.  Nathan and I hung out for a while, but after several hours, he needed to pick Clementine up from his Grandma who had been watching her since my midwife appointment that morning.  He also needed to make overnight arrangements for Clementine, and pack a hospital bag for us, since I still hadn't done that yet.  I listened to podcast after podcast and waited and waited all hooked up to the monitors.  7 hours later, the midwife on call came in and did another ultrasound to see how things were looking.  And the worst news-- Bea was breech... AGAIN!!  The midwife didn't want to do a second ECV that day, which could have aggravated the baby.  And it was silly to start an induction on a breech baby.  So after spending all day at the hospital, gearing up for an induction, I had to call Nathan and have him come pick me up.  He was so upset by the whole situation.  And I was too. The midwife recommended I could come back in 2 days, because unless there is a problem (like an unstable lie?) they don't recommend inductions before 39 weeks at the U.

So, two days later we came back in to the hospital for our third ECV appointment.  We got there first thing in the morning, but had to wait a few hours for an available attending to do the procedure.  This ECV was even less painful than the one before it.  I worried that the woman doctor's small hands wouldn't be able to flip her, but she had no problem! Then, the nurses and our favorite midwife recommended that we try an old fashioned technique that they hardly ever do anymore.  They put a tight binder on my belly to make it less likely that Bea would move at all from her head-down position, and immediately started our induction.  So I got all bound up tight, and they started me with my first dose of cervadil to soften my cervix.  My body wasn't at all dilated or effaced so we had a long induction road ahead of us.

I had the maximum three doses of cervadil that day, and while we waited for it to take affect, Nathan and I finished the last season of 30 Rock, and then started watching Mozart in the Jungle.  The midwife came in and showed us all of her pictures from her recent month-long European vacation.  And we hung out with the nurses at the nurses station.  By that night, the cytotec wasn't doing much to move things along, so we decided to start pitocin, which was a difficult decision for me.  One of my worst memories from Clementine's birth was getting my IV placed.  With Clementine, I knew I wanted an unmedicated birth, and I really didn't want an IV, but as soon as I got to the hospital, they insisted that I get an IV.  And all I remember is feeling like they were digging around in my arm forever trying to get it placed.  It was the worst.  I really wanted to insist that I had an IV-free birth with Beatrix.  I felt really strongly about it, and had even refused the pushy anesthesiologist before my second ECV who told me that not getting an IV was as irresponsible as driving without my seatbelt.  But deciding to start pitocin with Bea also meant relenting my refusal of an IV.  One of our best nurse friends, who was also the charge nurse that night, came in to give me the IV, and it was just as bad as I remembered it from last time. My vein kept rolling and she had to keep digging.  It was awful.  Throughout that night, the nurse slowly increased my pitocin from 1 to 19, but nothing much was changing.

The next morning, Nathan suggested to the midwife that we try a cook catheter.  They inserted a balloon up into my cervix and another balloon on the other side of my cervix, and filled both balloons with fluid to put pressure on my cervix and force it to dilate.  It's as uncomfortable as it sounds! The midwife tried to insert it three times before she gave up and asked the chief resident for help.  Once it was inserted, I started to feel some real contractions.  Since we had been in the hospital for two days, and were feeling pretty couped up,  the midwife said it was ok for us to get out and go on a walk around the hospital and around the grounds.  It was such a nice relief to get out of our room and get some fresh air.  We walked around right as the sun was setting, and the sky looked so beautiful.  We had to stop sometimes for me to lean and breathe through the contractions that were happening.  It felt really promising.  Late that night, they took out the catheter and I had dilated to about a 4.  So they let me get in the tub to see if it would help labor progress.  And they put me back on pitocin.  Our good friend who works as a medical assistant was working that night, and brought us Drumstick ice creams.  And I ate one in the bathtub while Nathan took a nap.  After being in the tub for a while, my heart rate and Beatrix's heart rate started to rise, and I had a fever.  They made me get out of the tub, and luckily things settled right down.  And I was able to get a little bit of sleep that night.

In the morning, our third morning of being at the hospital, the midwife came in to discuss our options.  We could either go home and wait for labor to start on it's own, all strapped up with the binder to make sure that Bea didn't flip again.  Or we could be more aggressive with getting labor started by breaking my water to force her head against my cervix and start pitocin again.  We decided to go with the second option.  The midwife and her student were both really nervous about our choice.  Since Bea's head was still so high, there was a chance that when they broke my water, the umbilical cord could come out with the fluid, which would be cause for an emergency C section.  The midwife wanted to have my water broken in the operating room, in case that happened, they could get Bea out really fast.  But the chief resident was against that idea.  She thought we would be just fine.  Still, we had to wait for an O.R. to be open, just in case.  They did one last ultrasound to make sure her cord was out of the way, and that she was in a good position.  Her cord was fine, but she was "sunny side up" instead of having her face toward my back.  The midwife had Nathan and I do a funny little rebozo technique to get her all turned around, and magically it worked!

They broke my water at about 8:45 am.  They pushed on my belly to get Bea's head engaged.  Then they stared me back on pitocin and I got back into the tub.  Almost immediately, the real contractions started to happen.  Nathan was awesome and so helpful with counter pressure on my back and my hips.  The water started to feel cold, so I asked if it could be hotter.  After a few hours of strong contractions in the tub, my heart rate started to be too high again, and so did Beatrix's.  Even though it was the very last thing in the world that I wanted to do, and moving felt so completely awful, they told me that I needed to get out of the tub.  It looked like I was starting to develop an infection, but as soon as I got out of the tub, things went back to normal.  I crawled into the bed and the MA brought warm blankets to wrap me in, which felt so nice.  I laid on my side, which was the only position that felt comfortable.  By that time, they checked me and I was dilated to an 8.  I felt so hopeless and out of control.  Each contraction felt so intense and I felt an uncontrollable urge to push each time.  My muscles would all tighten and I would curl into a ball at the top of each contraction.  I remember thinking that with Clementine, I came into the hospital dilated to a 9, but still had 5 hours ahead of me, including 3 hours of pushing.  I was ready to give up.  I started begging for an epidural, but the anesthesiologist was in an emergency c section and wasn't available to come.  So I begged for morphine, but the midwife said it was too late for that and that it would be unsafe for Bea.  I started to have a panic attack and I couldn't catch my breath.  Luckily, Nathan was right by my side and was able to talk me through it.  He helped me count my breaths and to make low moaning sounds.  He talked right into my ear and helped me calm down.  Finally, the midwife convinced me that I only had 10 or 15 minutes left until I would meet our baby, and that helped me focus and get brave.

After a bunch of really intense pushing, and some embarrassingly loud screaming, Bea's head came out, but she got stuck on her shoulder.  They had to lay me flat on my back and bring my knees to my chest, but finally the rest of her was able to pop out.  She was born at 12:12 pm on July 18th.  I remember thinking that she looked so purpleish grey!  They told me that she was dazed from being stuck for so long.  Everyone was rubbing her down with blankets so fast.  They took her to the baby warmer for a few minutes, and then brought her back over to me.  She hadn't cried much, which was making everyone really nervous.  When she finally did cry, it was such a petite, feminine little sound.  We snuggled skin to skin, and we tried breast feeding.  She was definitely better at it than Clementine and I were at the start.  I was so proud, and relieved.  It was one of my biggest mom worries- that we would have struggles with breast feeding again.

I was so in love with her right away!   I loved her cry.  I loved her chubby cheeks.  I loved that her eyes were just one long slit across the bridge of her nose.  I loved her curly blonde hair.  I loved the fuzz on her shoulders.

As we were being moved from the delivery room over to post partum, all of Nathan's nurse co workers came rushing over to us to congratulate us and to meet Bea. It was really fun to see them all and to thank them for all of their support for the last three days.  I really did love all of our nurses and midwives.  They were wonderful, and dear friends.

Later that day, my Dad and Laurie brought Clementine up to meet her new sister.  She came running through the door yelling "Bea Bea Bea Bea!!" She was so excited to meet her and to hold her.  She was so curious about her.  When she noticed that I wasn't pregnant any more, she said "Yay!  You have space for me again!"  It melted my heart.  That night, Nathan went home to take care of Clementine while Bea and I stayed at the hospital.  And we all came home the next afternoon.  And 9 days later, we packed up all of our stuff and moved to Austin, Texas for Nathan to do a travel nursing job while I'm on maternity leave.

Life with Beatrix has thrown me through quite a loop.  When Clementine was brand new, we had some breastfeeding struggles.  But we saw a lactation specialist and got things sorted out about 3 weeks in.  With Bea, I thought things were going great at first.  She seemed to latch on great, and would eat for a really long time.  But then she didn't poop.  For the first 3 weeks of her life, she didn't poop unless we helped her.  And she was really fussy all of the time.  At our first pediatrician appointment in Texas, she was 3 weeks old and was still about a pound under her birth weight.  The doctor said it was just colic and that we shouldn't worry.  My momma heart told me that something else was wrong, so we immediately switched pediatricians.  And the new wonderful pediatrician got us hooked up with a lactation specialist, and told us to start supplementing her feedings with formula right away.  Finally, at 4 weeks old, she started pooping on the regular and at 5 weeks she had regained her birth weight.  But we still struggled with breastfeeding-- she would just fall asleep while trying to eat, or try to latch and just scream and cry.  And she was still so fussy.  She had what we jokingly called the pterodactyl cry-- a high pitched screech that seemed like it was tearing her throat to pieces.   And she would projectile spit up after almost every feeding.  We have also struggled with low supply issues and I started supplementing with fenugreek and blessed thistle.  Then I had over supply issues which led to mastitis and clogged ducts.  Since then, I have been attending a breastfeeding support group and seeing the lactation specialist.  Things are getting better slowly, but it's still a struggle.  Her biggest issue is weak suck strength.  She mostly practices breastfeeding, and then I pump and feed her what I pump from a bottle.  We are considering taking her to a speech pathologist for help strengthening her mouth and throat.  And I have been trying to eliminate dairy from my diet to see if it will help her fussiness and what the pediatrician thinks might be silent reflux or a milk protein sensitivity.

On the bright side, she has been having more and more frequent happy moments.  She has a darling little smile and she started sleeping through the night last week.  Even though she is only in the 15th percentile for weight right now, she has little chunky thighs and squishy cheeks that I love to kiss.

Between Bea's struggles, and Clementine having a hard time adjusting to her new sister, new home, and new city all within a few weeks of each other, things got really dark for me for a while.  When Clementine was born, I had some anxiety/depression issues.  I didn't even realize that I was feeling so awful until a few months after she was born.  I thought it might have been because I was dealing with being a new mom without the help of my mom.  Or because I was trying with all of my might to finish my doctoral dissertation and lecture recital with a newborn.  Or just the stress of being a new mom.  When Clementine was about 18 months old, I finally decided that I deserved to be happier than I was.  I quit my stressful job and dialed my teaching hours way down.  And I started seeing a counselor who was very helpful and empowering for me.  And because of all of that, I had been flagged for post partum depression throughout Beatrix's pregnancy.  The midwives talked to me about it at every appointment.  I even decided to encapsulate my placenta and make smoothies from raw placenta chunks to try to help regulate my hormones after Bea's delivery.  *Side note: I am a total fan of placenta smoothies and capsules after birth.  I was definitely freaked out by the idea of it, but the more I read about it and the possible benefits, the more excited I was to try it.  I really do think that it made such a difference in how I felt post partum.  I had more energy, I bled less, I had more milk, and I had less baby blues than after Clementine was born.  I thought I was in the clear, as far as post partum depression goes.

However, about 6 weeks after Beatrix was born, and our house was a disaster and my toddler was acting like a nutcase and Nathan was gone working night shifts and my baby wouldn't eat and was pterodactyl crying all day, and I was far away from home and it was too hot to go outside and do anything, I had a break down.  I had texted Nathan one day that I was having a hard time, but when he came home I just cried and cried and told him that I didn't want to be a mom any more.  I wanted to get in our car and just drive away from it all.  Before we had come to Texas, my midwife had written me a "just-in-case" prescription for anti-depressants.  I was pretty sure that I didn't want to take them.  I thought I could be stronger and pull through difficult days without the need for medication.  And I didn't want to admit that maybe I might have depression.  There is such a negative stigma around it.  I didn't want to feel like a bad mother.  I didn't want to feel out of control of my own emotions, or like I couldn't handle my own life.  I wanted to be happy with my choices, like deciding to go to Texas and deciding to have another baby.  Taking the medication felt like such a weakness.  And I hated that.  But Nathan convinced me that maybe I needed try it.  So about a month ago, I started taking Zoloft.  And it has been extremely helpful.

I wanted to write about this because reading other women's stories about post partum depression really helps me feel better about being a woman with post partum depression.  Especially reading experiences from women whom I look up to and think are wonderful people and wonderful mothers.  Even though I still feel extremely vulnerable sharing this, other women who have gone through this experience and shared their stories have helped me feel less broken and weak and like less of a terrible mother. So if you are ever struggling, and feel like giving up or walking away from it all or like you're not cut out for motherhood, get help!  And don't feel bad about taking medicine that can really help.  When I was in the hospital waiting for Bea's induction, one of the nurses said something that helped me have better perspective about PPD.  She had struggled with depression herself after her children were born.  She said that the time you have with your new baby should be a happy time and full of good days and good memories.  Don't let post partum depression rob that time from you.  Get help and don't be afraid to take the medication.  Then you can look back on those precious months with happy memories.  Now, since taking the Zoloft, I feel like I've come out from under a cloud.  I can handle my crazy toddler and all of her energy and need for attention.  I can handle my sad baby and feel hope for helping her learn to eat and be happy.  I can keep our house tidy and even be ok to let it get a little messy if we are having a crazy day.  I am not afraid to drive anymore, and Nathan can tell you, that's a big deal! Everything isn't perfect and I still feel overwhelmed and tired and frustrated sometimes, but it's manageable now.  I also have to give a huge shout out to Nathan who has been so wonderfully supportive and understanding during this time.  He has stepped up and been so helpful.  He works hard all night long, then lets me sleep in while he takes care of Clementine's breakfast.  He spends hours rocking Bea or standing with her in the hot shower, which is sometimes the only way she will calm down.  He plans fun things for us to do here and makes sure that I get time out of the house.  He listens to me cry and complain.  I am so so so lucky to have him.

We named this little one Beatrix because it means "bringer of happiness."  And even though it hasn't been easy so far, I think I love her all the more for the struggle we have been through together.  She really does bring me so much happiness.  And I'm glad that she is part of our little family.

If you've made it to the end of this incredibly long post, give yourself a high five!  Thanks for reading my words.  I'll reward you with some cute pictures of our sweet little Honey Bea and such.