Tea parties occur daily in our house.
Monday, January 26, 2015
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
The 52 Project.
Like I just mentioned in my previous post (like really just mentioned), I wanted to participate in something called The 52 Project. One real camera photo/portrait a week of Charlotte. I am already three weeks behind and am already going to have to cheat for one photo. But here are the first three posts:
1/52:
New year, new snow.
2/52:
She loves playing dress up. (My cheat photo from my phone.)
3/52:
One last picture in her crib before being upgraded to her toddler bed.
Finally writing again.
When I was pregnant with Charlotte, I started blogging so that family could keep up-to-date on how things were going. Then after she was born, I kept up with it, not only for family, but so that I would have something to look back on. Then she turned one. Then she learned to walk. And it just became harder and harder to keep up with it. I hate that I haven't kept up with monthly updates, because she has changed so incredibly much. She is now a walking running , talking, dancing machine who will start preschool in the fall.
Let me preface this with: no, I am not pregnant. I just want to get back into the habit of posting updates. Or at least taking part in something called The 52 Project. It's a picture a week for a year. I did that during Char's first year of life with just her face. I ended up making an album with the photos and I am so happy I did. This, however, is a little different as I want to capture her being her. I'm already behind in posting for this year obviously, so I will catch up. And I will slowly add some updates from the past year of our favorite moments. I really just want to be able to look back and be like "Oh yeah, that happened!"
I mean, I still occasionally go back and read my posts from the moment we announced we were expecting and, even if I didn't post all the details, it stirs up the memories and it's fun to remember. Like when I look back now, I laugh at the fact that when I stated it wasn't some grand moment when we found out I was pregnant. In fact, Bryan and I were in the middle of a fight and I simply took a pregnancy test to see if it was safe to take my migraine medicine (my doctor suggested I do so to be safe). The positive showed up almost immediately. When I went back to show Bryan, he thought I was coming back for round two of the fight. I shoved the test in his face and said something along the lines of "Well, I guess I can't take my migraine medicine now."
Or I remember how around 38 weeks, I was sent to the hospital to be monitored all because of that wonderful broken rib. Since they couldn't do an X-ray to check, I had to be monitored for preeclampsia among other things just to rule everything out and determine that it was indeed a broken rib. I ended up having the worst on-call doctor from my midwife's office. When I said I wanted to go home versus staying overnight and fasting for an unnecessary ultrasound the next day (who thinks having a pregnant woman fast is a good idea?!), she ended up putting it in my chart that I refused treatment. (Note: She gave me the option of going home or staying.) At my next appointment with the midwife, she asked me about it and made a comment about how they figured I hadn't actually refused treatment and that many other patients didn't like her either.
And when I read Charlotte's birth story, I think back and feel so many feelings. I also realize, though, that I left out some of her birth story. After Char was born, they were worried about her breathing because of how she sounded when she was crying. They kept monitoring her and checking things. In my gut, I knew nothing was wrong. And I was right. An hour or so after she was born and we got the okay from the on-call pediatrician, they let me nurse her. Not only did she nurse for 45 minutes, but she immediately calmed down and everyone realized that her cry was simply her own, unique cry. Nothing was wrong with her breathing, she just needed some snuggles and boob. The same holds true today. (Yes, she is still nursing and I'm damn proud about that.)
So, now that I've totally steered off course from when I started writing this post, I am going to work on catching up with a weekly photo since I am seriously behind already and some other majors posts (like her second birthday and her first Neewollah).
Let me preface this with: no, I am not pregnant. I just want to get back into the habit of posting updates. Or at least taking part in something called The 52 Project. It's a picture a week for a year. I did that during Char's first year of life with just her face. I ended up making an album with the photos and I am so happy I did. This, however, is a little different as I want to capture her being her. I'm already behind in posting for this year obviously, so I will catch up. And I will slowly add some updates from the past year of our favorite moments. I really just want to be able to look back and be like "Oh yeah, that happened!"
I mean, I still occasionally go back and read my posts from the moment we announced we were expecting and, even if I didn't post all the details, it stirs up the memories and it's fun to remember. Like when I look back now, I laugh at the fact that when I stated it wasn't some grand moment when we found out I was pregnant. In fact, Bryan and I were in the middle of a fight and I simply took a pregnancy test to see if it was safe to take my migraine medicine (my doctor suggested I do so to be safe). The positive showed up almost immediately. When I went back to show Bryan, he thought I was coming back for round two of the fight. I shoved the test in his face and said something along the lines of "Well, I guess I can't take my migraine medicine now."
Or I remember how around 38 weeks, I was sent to the hospital to be monitored all because of that wonderful broken rib. Since they couldn't do an X-ray to check, I had to be monitored for preeclampsia among other things just to rule everything out and determine that it was indeed a broken rib. I ended up having the worst on-call doctor from my midwife's office. When I said I wanted to go home versus staying overnight and fasting for an unnecessary ultrasound the next day (who thinks having a pregnant woman fast is a good idea?!), she ended up putting it in my chart that I refused treatment. (Note: She gave me the option of going home or staying.) At my next appointment with the midwife, she asked me about it and made a comment about how they figured I hadn't actually refused treatment and that many other patients didn't like her either.
And when I read Charlotte's birth story, I think back and feel so many feelings. I also realize, though, that I left out some of her birth story. After Char was born, they were worried about her breathing because of how she sounded when she was crying. They kept monitoring her and checking things. In my gut, I knew nothing was wrong. And I was right. An hour or so after she was born and we got the okay from the on-call pediatrician, they let me nurse her. Not only did she nurse for 45 minutes, but she immediately calmed down and everyone realized that her cry was simply her own, unique cry. Nothing was wrong with her breathing, she just needed some snuggles and boob. The same holds true today. (Yes, she is still nursing and I'm damn proud about that.)
So, now that I've totally steered off course from when I started writing this post, I am going to work on catching up with a weekly photo since I am seriously behind already and some other majors posts (like her second birthday and her first Neewollah).
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