Now is Now

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts. 

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,

Which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, 

But seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backwards nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

- Kahlil Gibran

While my head knows he will grow up to be his own person, forging his own path...

My heart will never forget the moments I was able to hold him this close and feel, even fleetingly, that he was mine.

Now is now. And I am grateful.

Love,

Carmen

That life-sustaining love

I was recently chasing rabbits down holes of the internet and stumbled upon an interview with Elizabeth Smart. She was talking about her foundation for children who have been victims of violent crimes. She also spoke openly about her kidnapping, the 9 months she spent captive, and her eventual rescue. When the interviewer asked what the secret was to her survival, she answered without hesitation that it was the love of her mother.

Elizabeth explained that during her darkest hours under the control of  an insane, cruel man, she kept remembering the words of her mother: I will always love you. No. Matter. What. Her mother had often told her that she would love her no matter what she does, where she goes, or how many mistakes she makes. During her capture, Elizabeth often thought that no one would ever want her, even if she was rescued. She said at one point that she was ready to give up because she felt dirty and worthless. Then she remembered her mother's promise that she would always love her and that gave her hope. Elizabeth thought of her mother's words and decided that was worth living for.

Talk about inspiring! The love we pour into our children is life-sustaining. The love we give to them on a daily basis, can later carry them out of darkness.

This story also made me think of a friend of mine whose little girl has spent much of her first 3 years, fighting for her life. Emma and Jerilyn are two of the toughest, bravest chicks I know. Jerilyn always talks about Emma being her hero, smiling through the pain and Emma's sheer determination to survive. I can't help but think in all those scary moments where Emma defied the odds and said, "No, not today. Today, I keep going," that she mustered that last effort that turned it all around from looking at her Momma's face and seeing and feeling all the love that Jerilyn pours into her. It's life-sustaining I tell ya!

I want Crosby to always know that no matter what, I will always love him. So I am going to lay it on thick everyday. I'm going to look into his eyes, hug his neck, cup his cheeks, kiss his lips, hold his hand. I'm going to touch his heart.

And hopefully, someday, when it matters most, he will hear my voice in his head. Maybe he will be on the cusp of a life-changing decision. Maybe he will be fighting his way back from illness. Maybe he will be deciding, like Elizabeth or Emma, to survive. No matter what the circumstance he finds himself, I hope he remembers, I will always love you. No. Matter. What.

Love,

Carmen

Because I want to remember rocking

I still rock Crosby to sleep for naps. On the weekends or on snow days. It is one of my favorite things to do. Sometimes he resists at firsts, cries out or wriggles around, fighting. But eventually succumbs. I love those moments. 

I stroke his face.

Softly...with one finger, just above his brow. The way my momma did for me.

He opens his eyes: I smile, he smiles. His eyelids are heavy and shut again. But he can't resist. They open again, checking to make sure I'm still there and the little sleepy smile breaks again. I stare at him, watching as sleep overwhelms his little body.

He holds me tight and the heavy breaths get deeper. He nuzzles my neck and I kiss his head, breathing in his toddler scent.

I love it, yet it breaks my heart.

I savour it, but I know I'll not remember. Not exactly.

Because memories dim and fade.

Motherhood is a wild ride of extremes. It engulfs me in this love that at times makes me feel more deeply than I could ever imagine. At other times, more despairing than I could ever imagine.

The knowing that he is my only and my last forces me to try to cling a little longer... I want to hold on to this. I'll never have it again. I want to stop the moments that fleet away and to linger here for longer.

I love you, Crosby.

Wish I had some pictures of me rocking you. I hardly have any of you even sleeping. This will have to do.

Love,

Momma

You are my Sunshine

My only sunshine.

My mom and dad both sang that song to me growing up. Now I sing it to Crosby.

And, the other day I heard it on a Whirlpool commercial. Have you seen this commercial? I cry every time I watch it, near the end, when the narrator delivers this universal truth:

Because every act of care we give, helps the people we love, become people who love.

I think of all the small acts of care I perform everyday every, from fixing meals, fixing sippy cups, wiping a little hiney, rocking to sleep, to the bigger acts of care like administering enzymes and daily respiratory therapy. We go to bed, then wake up and do it all over again. Some acts of care are more insignificant than others. But it's all care. And it's all for love.

Those moments I spend caring for my little dude are way more important than all the other stuff. Because for every mom there comes a time, when babies grow up & grow out of our arms. I know it's coming. I know someday, the hours I logged holding Crosby and caring for him, will feel like it wasn't enough.

Crosby really is my sunshine. 

So i'll pour my cup out for him today, and then get up tomorrow and pour it out again, because I know that's what love really is. And someday, he'll know it too.

If you're reading on email or your phone, here is the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZiV6L7d8CY4

Love,

Carmen

Feeling all the Feels

{If postpartum discussions don't apply to you, annoy you or bore you, you may want to skip this one.}

As Crosby's first birthday is fast approaching {along with all the pressure surrounding planning a perfect first birthday - damn you Pinterest}, I have been thinking back on all kinds of memories before, during and after his birth. Lance and I were discussing the after part a few nights ago and looking back, it's easy to see that I had some postpartum depression going on. 

Anyone who knows me, or who has been reading this blog, knows that i'm not at all uncomfortable with feeling all the feelings. I am a sensitive soul and I am a feeler! I also don't have a problem with letting the world know how I feel.

However, after giving birth, it was difficult to feel all the feelings... ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

I decided to write this down here so that I remember and I think now that enough time has elapsed, I have a better perspective of what I experienced. I sometimes hold back from sharing certain personal things on here, but perhaps there is an off chance this may benefit someone else, a new mom, mom-to-be, or maybe their partners.

After giving birth, I experienced very conflicting emotions.

I was feeling both indescribable joy at the birth of my baby, alongside heavy grief surrounding the absence of my dad.

I experienced anxiety about the tiny, helpless human being who now depends on me for everything, but also an over-powering momma-bear protectiveness.

I battled feeling totally alone and isolated, all the while knowing and appreciating how incredibly supportive Lance was.

Add in some sleep deprivation and I had myself one free ride on the crazy train.

Hormones, goodness.

I think the absolute worst, for me, was the ever-present knowledge that my time with Crosby before I had to go back to work was so very very brief. I desperately wanted to soak it all up, hold him every second, remember every expression, every movement, to notice every change and watch him grow, to memorize his perfect face and shut out everything that dared to interrupt. I was well aware of the ticking clock of my maternity leave and was preparing for the overwhelming amount of emotional healing and sadness that I would be dealing with once I was away from Crosby. I needed space and I felt that intrusions into our sacred bonding time were stealing from me - literally robbing me of the finite time I had with my baby. 

And, I think all of that was good and I think that was okay.

I needed to feel all those feelings and store everything in my heart and not succumb to pressure to share it. 

Probably most of us have heard the warnings on postpartum that sometimes mothers have a hard time bonding after birth due to hormones, but no one warned me of the opposite. No one said that you could have a rush of protection and anxiety... that just the thought of visitors wanting to come see us could make a huge lump well up in my throat. Tears instantly. I felt panicky and threatened. And this didn't subside easily. 

Other mommas have told me that they felt similarly. So I don't think I am crazy or alone here. That being said, if you did not feel the way I felt, I think that's ok too. Every momma is different and pregnancy and birth affect people in different ways. I think that it's important to show love and support, no matter what a new momma is experiencing or needing.

I just needed some time. And, so did Crosby.

We, as humans, are not designed for mother and baby separation at the age most working moms return to work. In fact, the survival of the human race can be attributed to the biological and chemical connection between mother and child. Humans are a species whose existence is genetically rooted in the strong mutual dependency between mom and baby. We would be extinct without it and I desperately recognized this fact, at least subconsciously.

All that was also compounded by the fear and unknown when he was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis at 15 days old.

It was all so, so overwhelming.

It was a rough time but better days were ahead. He grew and grew and my emotions evened out. And with Lance by my side, we found our way. 

As Natalie would say, "this too shall pass." And so it did.

Crosby was definitely worth feelings all the feels. And who wouldn't be possessive over these chunky thighs?!?  :)

Love,

Carmen

Rocking

Life gets so busy. Even when you try to slow down. Our daily lives get so cluttered up with doing this and that and going here or there. We go to work and back, eat dinner, do chores, scurry around only to go to sleep, then wake up and do it all again. We worry, we fight, we love and we march on. Weeks fly by, weekends seem shorter and shorter and our thoughts seem centered on tomorrow, next week, in two weekends, and next month, all the while desperately trying to appreciate the present. Busy.

The other night, because his enzyme dose is loosing efficacy and he had a bad dirty diaper in the middle of the night, Crosby woke up and cried for me. After I changed him and got him calm, I rocked him. I rocked him for longer than usual. And ya'll, my mind was calm and the whole world and all it's business, fell to the distance.

Sure it was 3am and I was still half asleep. But in that moment, all I did was love him. 

I loved the way his hand reached up and he entangled his fat little fingers in my hair. I loved the way that his feet rested far down my legs and how that showed how much he has grown. I loved his warm little cheek pressed against my arm and his soft sighs as he fell back asleep, perfectly content in being close to his momma. I adored the way he smelled. I loved the heat coming from his little body. I loved feeling his heart beat and hearing him breath, in and out, in and out. I loved who he has been, who he is, and who he will become. I love my little dude so incredibly much and in that moment, that’s all I could think about.

So I closed my eyes. And on we rocked.

Love,

Carmen

41 Weeks In, 41 Week Out

41 weeks is all the time it took for me to grow a human. To me, that is a pretty impressive feat in such a relatively short amount of time. Last week, on July 9, Crosby was exactly 41 weeks old. That means he has now been living and breathing here on the outside for longer than it took me to form him on the inside.

While I certainly don't miss pregnancy, I do miss having him with me everywhere I went. Knowing that he was safe and that where I'd go, he'd go, provided a sense of comfort. I remember sitting pregnant at my desk at work and feeling him kick kick kick. I would think about how soon there would be a time that I would be sitting at that desk working and my baby would miles away, being looked after by someone else and not right there with me. I tried not to think about it, tried to just be grateful that he was healthy, I was having a healthy pregnancy and not to worry about the coming days when we would be separate.

Before Crosby, I never knew the weight that motherhood carried with it. Heck, I didn't even have a clue as I carried him around with me those 41 weeks. But the gravity that comes with being a momma is so immense, it grabs your heart, fills your cup with a joy that overflows, a love that weighs you down and is deeper than any ocean. It’s the purest feeling, a swelling in your soul that is inexplicable. And I never even knew it existed. I never understood the weight. Until him.

Crozzie Bear, I am lucky to know you, lucky to share this portion of our lives together, lucky to be your Momma. I loved those 41 weeks of you growing under my heart and I have grown more and more in love with you the past 41 weeks since your birth. I am regularly brought to tears, overwhelmed by the amount of love and I grasp for courage everyday and wisdom to be the momma you so much deserve. Motherhood, with all it's weight, has been by far the most amazing transformation. It's changed me forever. For good.

Love,

Carmen

My First Mother's Day

Today is my first Mother's Day as a mother. I have only been a momma for 7 months now. What a huge privilege and blessing it is to love and raise a little human. I am so thankful. The amount of joy this Little Dude brings me is truly indescribable. And the new ways this experience has bonded Lance and I, is such a gift. I am incredibly lucky to have these two boys in my life!

Mommas.

In these short seven months, I have learned that being a momma and loving something so much is difficult. I beg God for Crosby's protection. I can get overwhelmed and anxious when I think about how vulnerable my heart is now that a piece of it is out in the world, in another tiny little body.

In these short seven months, I have learned that being a Momma sometimes hurts. The love a mother has for her child is so passionate and so fierce, that sometimes it takes my breath a way.

But being a Momma is also so beautiful. 

So today, I want to celebrate ALL of the Mommas out there. 

I celebrate my own mother who is the best Mom always and forever! Thank you for your unconditional love and thank you for setting such a perfect example of the kind of mother I want to be for Crosby. I hope he always needs me the way I still need you.

I celebrate my mother's mother, my Granny, who has always been incredible to me and shown me so much love. 

I celebrate my Daddy's mother, my MaMa, whom I know misses her son as much as I do.

I celebrate my husband's mother, who raised such a selfless, kind-hearted man and who is the type of daddy to Crosby, that my Daddy was to me. 

I celebrate my sister, who is a mother and I celebrate my close friends who I have stood beside and watched become mothers. All of you have been such wonderful examples for me. Your advice through texts and phone calls the past couple of months have further deepened our friendships and I am so grateful to be able to have a sister and friends around me that I can look up to and learn from in this season of life.

I celebrate my pseudo-moms, Kathleen, Karen Jo, Valerie and Momma Jo (in heaven), who have been so good to me and loved me like I was their own. I'm a better person for the enrichment their friendship has brought to my life. Not to mention how much fun these wild women are.

But as someone who longed to be a mother far before she actually got to be one, I also wanted to acknowledge and be sensitive to those who are desperately waiting to become mothers.

I pray for you. I pray that the desires of your heart will be met. I pray that you get to experience the joy, whether it be in your own womb or in another's through adoption.

My heart also aches for those who have lost the person that made them a mother, I cannot imagine. And my heart aches for those still waiting to become one.

To the Mommas,

and to the hopeful Mommas-to-be.

I celebrate you today.

Happy Mother's Day.

Love,

Carmen

Breastfeeding and Cystic Fibrosis

This post is simply to share my own opinions and experience with breastfeeding a CF baby (backed with a little research). I want to caveat by saying that I am not a registered lactation consultant or a registered dietitian. 

I also know that breastfeeding can be a very polarizing topic among mommas. And while I am a very strong BFing advocate, I absolutely respect every woman's choice on whether they BF or not and for how long. BF is hard. It is a commitment and 1,000 different factors can play into whether a woman chooses to BF, is able to BF and how long they BF. This post isn't intended to offend anyone or make anyone feel guilty.

I do believe that breastfeeding is the more difficult road to take. It's a commitment and it's hard, frustrating and time consuming. This is true even for a normal, healthy infant. When you add CF into the mix, there are additional challenges. In the beginning, Crosby was hungry ALL. THE. TIME. If I do the math, he was demanding to eat every one and half to two hours. Feedings usually lasted 45 minutes to an hour. So if I fed him at noon, he would eat until 12:45 or 1:00 and then be hungry again at 1:30. We were both exhausted. Crosby was exhausted because his hunger prevented him from sleeping! I was exhausted because I was nursing him more than 12 hours a day. 

I was nursing nursing nursing and he was pooping pooping pooping. Everyone kept saying that breastfed babies poop more but Crosby had about 10 dirties a day and also wasn't gaining much weight. And he cried and cried and cried (Momma cried some too.) My days and nights consisted of nursing him in our recliner or nursing him in our bed. Lance would often feed me dinner while I nursed the baby. And taking a shower?Fugeddaboutit. Of course I turned to self-blame. I thought it was me, I wasn't doing it right or producing enough milk. Something didn't feel right, but I didn't know what.

Tiny Crosby, nursing around 3 weeks old.

Fast forward to his diagnosis. Then we got the enzymes. Life changer! Crosby started only eating 8 to 9 times a day and the dirty diapers slowed way down. Turns out I was producing PLENTY of milk. We were both able to finally get some rest. I'm so glad that I kept nursing through that extremely difficult time. I never gave up. And believe me, I wanted to! Now, 7.5 months in, I really and truly believe that his good health can be partially attributed to my breastfeeding commitment. I couldn't have done it without the support of Lance, my awesome lactation consultant at Baptist, and two friends who have no idea how much their texts of encouragement helped.

Crosby nursing around 2 months old.

Everyone has heard of all the good BF does for babies in general, but breastfeeding the child with CF is even more of a tremendous benefit with numerous advantages. Here's a list, to name a few {*compiled and modified from the cff.org website, cysticlife.org, and Utah Valley Institute of Cystic Fibrosis independent research}:

• Breastmilk contains its own lipase. That is, breastmilk actually contains its own enzymes designed to break down fat. {Which because of Crosby's digestion issues, he doesn't produce enough enzymes (liapse being one) and needs all the extra he can get.} 

• Breastmilk has been shown to lessen the incidence and severity of respiratory and gastrointestinal infections, it has anti-inflammatory properties that help prevent allergic reactions, and it has antibacterial and antiviral properties. 

• Breastmilk contains vitamins and minerals in maximally absorbable form, and is also very high in antioxidants and DHA {substances deficient in CF patients}. Because CF babies are at great risk for malnutrition because their bodies do not readily absorb nutrients from their food, this property of breastmilk becomes very important.

• Breastmilk also promotes the formation of healthy intestinal (gut) flora, which is essential to good digestion and the manufacture of vitamin K. {Crosby takes supplemental vitamin K because it's a fat-soluble vitamin that he has trouble digesting and needs all the extra he can get.}

• Because it is so easily digestible, breastmilk also does not form large curds in the gut, as artificial formulas are prone to do. This property allows for easy passage of the breastmilk through the gut, lessening the chance of bowel blockage which is otherwise common in CF.

• Children with CF may often be on antibiotics. Breastfeeding helps reestablish the healthy gut environment that is disrupted by the antibiotics. 

• Breastmilk contains immune factors that allow the mother's immune system to govern the infant's immune system until the baby's system is fully developed. In normal babies, this translates into significantly less illness in those babies that have been breastfed. Recent figures indicate that breastfed infants experience 1/5 the incidence of respiratory illness, 1/4 the incidence of gastrointestinal illness, and 1/25 the chance of dying from these illnesses as infants that are fed artificial formula. Though there are no figures directly comparing the illnesses of breastfed CF babies versus CF babies that drink formula, it is assumed that the immuno-protective effects are similar. 

One thing that I found frustrating was the lack of resources. Mommas of CF babies need help with the management of breastfeeding. I know I did. Breastfeeding is overwhelming in of itself but with CF, meeting the demands of quantity and fat content can be extremely challenging. I didn't really get much BF-supportive advice from Crosby's CF team. Their take was 'do what you think is best and give up if you have to.' Clearly they didn't take into account my determination! The lactation consultant a Baptist (La Leche League) was the most helpful. I think it's important to have BF advocate who can foster an attitude of hope - such a priceless gift to any mother of a newly diagnosed baby.

If I had to give a CF momma wanting to nurse advice, it would be:

• Don't give up on your worst day. 
• Drink lots of water, gatorade, and juice. Mostly water. I try to drink at least half my body weight in liquid ounces a day.
• Cut out low-calorie crap. You need to eat fat to ensure your milk has enough fat in it for baby. I don't gorge on McDonalds or junk but I do use whole or 2% milk, eat ice cream and don't cut the fat off my meat. {In case you're worried, I also eat plenty of fresh fruit, vegetables and take supplements.) I burn about 500 calories a day just breastfeeding, so I need to replace those with good food. Even more on days that we run.
• Have a good support system - your partner, your mom. Also, don't be afraid to hurt feelings if you need space and have to limit visitors. Your comfort is important in the early stages of establishing your nursing relationship and really important for your supply. 
• If you are having supply issues, there are lots and lots of things you can do. I highly suggest calling a Le Leche League consultant. They are BF experts and many have experience advising Mommas of special needs babies. There are so many ways to increase your supply and these ladies are there to help. Many of them are over-eager to help you, but in a good way. You need a cheerleader.
• Don't be too hard on yourself. Do your damnedest but don't rule out supplementation. I didn't have to, but knowing that I would forgive myself if we had to give him formula, took some of the pressure off.

Crosby is still exclusively BF! I had to return to work when he was 8 weeks old (frowny face) and I have to pump frequently everyday to keep up my supply. We nurse at night and in the mornings. He gets bottles of breastmilk during the day. I love to nurse him but I hate to pump! It can be downright awkward at work or when I do it in my car while driving to work {I speed past those semi-trucks and pray my tinted windows serve me well!} It's a hassle to plan my work day or weekends around a pumping schedule. Every time that I feel like I want to give up, I remind myself of the benefits for him. I have this extremely small window of opportunity to provide something to my baby that no one else can give him and something that could benefit him by affecting his health in a positive way, for the rest of his life. He's worth it.

Happy (although not a fan of the camera) Little Dude.

His happy place is in his wrap, strapped to Momma - cure for the fussies.

Nursed to Sleep, 2 weeks ago. Check out those eyelashes!

Love,

Carmen

I'm holding you close

Here we are.

I'm holding you close.

We have an unspoken agreement,

You and I.

I usually know what you want the moment you fuss.

And you know by my presence,

I’m about to make everything all better.

I give you comfort,

And you give me joy.

I babywear you.

And I hold you close.

You grab my shirt, pull my hair, and slobber on my face.

And I hold you close.

You're in my heart, in my mind, and in my arms.

I don't have this Momma thing completely down,

But that's okay.

I have no intentions of tricking you into believing I’m perfect.

I acknowledge my imperfections,

There are plenty.

But hopefully I am an example of a life lived honestly.

My love for you is perfect,

But I am not.

You melt my heart.

You make me so happy.

And it’s written all over my face.

My sweet, Crosby. I'm holding you close, 

And I always will.

I Love You to the Moon...

And Back.

Love,
Momma

Consuming Ones Placenta

That title got you didn't it?

Now you're thinking that I'm super crunchy or granola and you're also thinking I'm pretty gross. She ate her placenta! But, if you read this post in it's entity and see that it's not like I fried up it up in some butter and scarfed it down AND there are actual benefits to placenta consumption, maybe you'll be less grossed out or even better, a little more informed. 

This all started before I was even pregnant when I read a post by one of my favorite bloggers over at www.mamaandbabylove.com. Now, I don't want to go casting stones, but Stephanie is pretty granola. She did actually saute and eat her placenta. I imagine that it tasted something like liver. I'm not sure why, but that's what I imagined. Being the liver-hater that I am, that doesn't sound very appetizing. But the research and benefits that she pointed to made it seem like this was a very good thing to do. However, I was present when my BFF Natalie gave birth. I know what a placenta looks like. As I read Stephanie's article, I conjured up that image, and I thought,

I could never eat that.

While pregnant, I gave little thought to placenta consumption because of aforementioned gross analogy to liver.

Fast forward to my final days of pregnancy. A close girlfriend of mine, who had given birth just 6 weeks prior to me and who happened to use my same OB, offhandedly mentioned she had her placenta encapsulated and that it was the absolute best postpartum advice she could give me. 

What?! 

Placenta encapsulation? 

What is this? 

That is a real thing? 

Kandace explained that there is a company in town called BirthWorks and one of their doulas offers placenta encapsulation services. It's consuming your placenta in pill form. 

So before I signed up, I decided to do a little more research. As it turns out, humans are actually one of the only mammals that don’t regularly eat their own placentas. Some researchers believe it must be because the placenta offers some fundamental biological advantage. The placenta contains high levels of things like iron, vitamin B-12 and certain hormones. 

The thought is that the placenta may offer a new mother certain health benefits, like the treatment of postpartum depression. It has been suggested in the past that postpartum depression in some women is spurred by the quickly shifting levels of female hormones after giving birth, and that by eating the placenta, the hormones will stabilize and postpartum depression can therefore be prevented.

Another thought is that the placenta can offer some degree of pain relief due to certain chemicals contained within the tissue. In ancient Chinese medicine, placental extracts are commonly mixed with herbs taken to relieve pain, stimulate milk production, and even to cure impotence. Additional potential benefits of a placenta pill included the ability to improve breast milk supply, increase energy and even prevent aging. 

Now, I know if you google placentophaiga (the scientific word for the practice of eating one's own placenta) that you'll come up with a myriad of information from sites that promote the practice by saying you must eat it and if you don't you're depriving yourself of nature-intended beneficial nutrients, to stark criticism and  flat out opposition.

Lance was pretty skeptical. Especially since I threw this on him literally one day before my due date. Plus he thought it was weird. And gross. But he acquiesced on this and allowed me to make the decision. Which I decided to go for it as I lay in my hospital bed counting contractions. Talk about last minute.

I've read where some hospitals have specific guidelines on releasing a placenta to a mother. For me, I had no problem. I simply told my L&D nurse that I wanted my placenta and she put it in a medical plastic bowl with a lid and put it on ice in the sink until my placenta encapsulation specialist could come retrieve it.

Shortly after I had given birth to Crosby, the gal I had called hours before showed up. She took my placenta and dehydrated and encapsulated it. The next day, she brought my placenta pills to me up at the hospital. I took 2 pills, three times a day for the first week. Followed by 2 pills twice a day for the second and finally one pill twice daily for the third week. Because the placenta is dehydrated, there is no taste. No grossness. I swear.

Since I have nothing to compare it to (i.e. I've only given birth once) I don't know for sure if it had all these miraculous affects. I will say that while I was pretty teary the first week or so, the baby blues faded fairly quickly and once my milk came in, I had no trouble with supply! My friend Kandace has given birth twice, once without taking the pills and once with. She swears there was a huge difference in her emotional state and energy levels. I'm a believer.

And, let's face it. I'll do anything that helps my little dude or helps me take better care of him.

So, I shared all this, not to say, "you must do this, it's the only way." But to explain what I did and why I did it. Take what you want, and leave the rest :)

Love,

Carmen

2 Lines

Dear Crosby,

It was one year ago today that I discovered your existence. I got up to go to the bathroom in the morning and those 2 lines appeared. Those 2 lines were so exciting, so surreal. I woke your Daddy right up and we both couldn't stop smiling. Then you grew and grew.  I look back on pictures of myself pregnant and think, 

Wow, that was Crosby in there all along. 

That whole time that was you! I get emotional just thinking about it. 

I love you so much.  

It's cliche to say, but I cannot imagine my life without you. I feel so blessed when I look at you and think, 

That is my son! I have a son and I get to keep him forever. 

Some days we cuddle in the biscuit for hours (not often enough though) and we just stare at each other. I love the way you look at me and then look at you Daddy and then you get the biggest smile on your face as if to say, 

Hey guys, I know you, I love ya'll! 

It melts my heart. You melt my heart. I've said it before but sometimes it feels like my heart will explode over how much I love you. I love seeing things as you see them. I love having you with me everyday. (Bubbers... Momma's got tears in her eyes right now just writing this).

I've cried more than I normally do in the past three and half months. I cried when you were born. I cried  those first two weeks when you were so hungry and couldn't get full because we didn't know you had CF. I cried when you were diagnosed with CF. I cried when I had to go back to work. I cry when you seem not yourself. I cry when I think time is going by too fast. I cried the other week when I had to pack up all your little newborn outfits. I cry when I think that your tiny little hands are the same hands that will be strong, manly hands like your Daddy's someday. Mommas can cry pretty easily. Having little babies makes us really vulnerable. 

I love watching you change and grow. I  love watching you make new discoveries and marvel at the world. You just noticed your feet the other day and you could not stop looking at them. You stare and stare as if to say, 

Wow, look at these! They are my feet! 

You are so full of wonder. 

I love your little personality. I love the way you want to be with me all the time and you settle down immediately when I hold you in my arms. I love how joyful you can be and grin right back and your Daddy and I when we grin at you. I love your fiery little spirit and how you let us know when you're not happy. I know your cries are just your way of communicating and I respect that. I tell you when you're upset, 

It's okay, Crozzie. You're just having some feelings. It's okay to tell Momma about them.  

I was forever changed by those 2 lines that showed up a year ago. Changed for the better. Changed for good. Crosby, you were wanted, you are loved and you are adored. You have brought so much joy into our lives. We're so lucky to have you. I'm so lucky to have you. Way before you were born, your Pappy told me that having babies is the greatest gift and raising children is the meaning of life. I didn't know what he was talking about. But now I do. You've showed me my purpose, sweet boy. My life battle will be fighting for you. And I will fight until I breathe my last breath. I love you forever and ever and ever, Crosby. Thank you for being mine. 

To the Moon,

Momma

The first time we met.

Christmas Eves and Hope

Merry Christmas 

From the Crosby Show!

Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable gift.

2 Corinthians 9:15 

Card Design by Kandace Gerber at Save The Date Designs. Contact her on Facebook here.

Photo by Reba Cauley at Cauley Photography. Contact her on Facebook here.

I've debated on whether or not I should share this story. I feel like I've really been very open and honest on this space so far because I want to share Crosby's story and document our family's journey by being as authentic as possible. Even the hard stuff. The following is extremely personal and a topic that I haven't talked much about. A lot of our family and friends probably don't even know some it. But, I decided to share this not to splay a sensitive story out there for everyone to read, but to acknowledge that there can be a lot of hurt in this Season. And that hurt can be amplified during this time when everything around you is suppose to be merry and jolly. Instead of feeling joyous, lots of people are suffering, feeling alone, in pain, depressed, and dealing with loss. I know some of those feelings well. But there can also be a lot of hope in this season. And that's what Crosby reminds me to hold on to. Hope.

Christmas Eve 2011. Christmas Eve traditions are important to Lance and I. A lot of hard things had happened that year and we were looking forward to spending the holidays together.

We also had a very big secret during that time. I was pregnant. It was unexpected but we were happy. We had told our parents, siblings and my best friend. We were waiting until we were in the "safe zone" before telling everyone else. So I passed on holiday spirits and drank mocktails while making merry. Lance and I made our Christmas plans and told him, just think, this time next year we'll have a 5 month old!

Fast forward to Christmas Eve. I was two days shy of being 12 weeks along. As we were literally heading out the door to church, it happened. It was obvious what was going on. I felt panicked and out of control. Lance called my doctor because I couldn't speak. We were told to wait and see. So we waited and then when it became apparently clear that it was happening, I couldn't control the scream that came out of my mouth. Around midnight it was definite that I needed medical attention, so Lance helped me to the car and we made our way to the ER.

Not the wonderful, cozy Christmas we had been envisioning. It was painful. Both physically and emotionally painful. I took the loss hard. I mourned what would never be. So Lance and I picked up the pieces after that Christmas and all I could be thankful for was that I still had him and we were together. Still to this day, thinking about that time can bring me to tears.

Christmas Eve 2012. Would you believe me if I told you that Lance and I spent the next Christmas in the ER again? (I should point out that we're not the type of people who rush to the ER all the time either!) Because of the previous year's less than ideal Christmas, we decided last year to spend our first Christmas as a married couple in New York City. Some friends of mine have a beautiful apartment in the heart of Manhattan and had graciously allowed us to occupy it for a long weekend. We had a wonderful trip, but the night before we were scheduled to fly home, Lance (who has an affinity for this) passed out at a concert in Times Square and hit his head. Hard. It literally bounded off the concrete. After we were taken to the ER by ambulance because he wasn't making any sense once he came to, we learned he had fractured his skull and had a concussion.

Spending that Christmas Eve in the ER was stressful for me and not very fun for Lance, who was pretty much incapacitated and incoherent for some time. We were alone, scared and missing our families. But something truly magical was happening and we wouldn't even find out about it until 5 weeks later. I only thought I was alone with Lance in that ER off 58th and 9th. Someone else was with us. And that someone else was Crosby. He only existed then in the form of several hundred little dividing cells. But he existed.

Christmas Eve 2013. God has redeemed my heartache from those two Christmases ago. I can now give thanks for that loss because it brought me Crosby, who carries my heart and soul. And he is why I have hope.

I know this year has been tough for me with my Dad's death and Crosby's diagnosis. But there are people who are battling even harder things. Things I couldn't even imagine. A widow spending her first Christmas without her husband. A mother who's arms are empty this Christmas after the loss of a child. Communities in upheaval from violence. A family torn a part by divorce. A man who just resigned his medical care to hospice. Veterans who feel lost and lonely and out of touch with the rest of us. A grandmother who feels forgotten, spending Christmas in a nursing home. A woman who can't be with her children and family because she is hospitalized, battling cancer. A couple who longs for babies but who have given up on their fight with infertility. Orphans who only want to be loved and a family of their own. I truly have a heart for folks whose heartbreaks are amplified by this Season.

We live in an imperfect world. A world filled with incredible sadness and all these painful things. But we also live in a world where there is hope. And without hope we have nothing.

So this Christmas Eve, when I pull Crosby close to snuggle him, I will be reminded of that. I'm going to choose to believe in hope. And Crosby. I rejoice in him. The symbol of hope that he is.

Love, Peace and Hope,

Carmen

A few days before Christmas, 2011

At Yankee Stadium, a few days before Christmas, 2012 (pre-accident)

Concussed at the ER in mid-town Manhattan, Christmas Eve Eve, 2012

He had just asked me for chapstick for the 11th time in 10 minutes.
Each time, I told him I didn't have any.

Christmas 2012, we didn't know Crosby was forming in utero.

We get to spend Christmas 2013 with this little dude!