Hi...I'm Katie, and I'm an...

Well, readers, it turns out those feelings of desperation and hopelessness that I had about Benjamin eating? Didn't really go away, and, in fact, they got worse. So bad, in fact, that on Monday I was crying for about 5 hours straight, while I stood in the middle of the room clenching my fists, and my body, so that I didn't just start screaming at the top of my lungs. Also, turns out, that that's not normal. But I bet you already knew that. :o)

As I sobbed on the phone to my mom (wonderful woman!), she ventured a guess that what I was feeling was more than just simple frustration at having a colicky baby, and she advised me to see a doctor and get a blessing. Not necessarily in that order. So that night we had our home teachers come over and help Jeff give me a blessing. It was so wonderful, and really helped me feel like there was something that I could do about this whole thing. I love our ward, and all the people in it, but Monday night it actually felt like our home teachers were our family. I LOVE the Priesthood!! What an incredible thing, to have that power given to us from the Lord! And that our husbands, fathers, and brothers can use it to bless our lives and lift us up. Man, the Gospel is awesome!!!!!!!!!

On Tuesday I got an appointment with the doctor who delivered Benjamin, Dr. Henderson. He's a great person, someone who really listens, but is also very practical, and he's a member of the Church (an old Bishop, in fact), so I felt sure that he would understand me. Because I could only tell a member of the Church that I knew something was really really wrong with me because I felt the same kind of despair and hopelessness, combined with nauseousness, that I felt when I had committed serious sin, and have them understand that.

It was wonderful to tell a professional that I trusted that I dreaded when Benjamin woke up from a nap, that thoughts of the future filled me with anxiety and fear, that I cried at the drop of a hat, that I was fantasizing about going to live with my sister in Paris (actually, I wanted to be just like my sister, living in Paris, all by myself), and that I had even thought that I wanted to die, because then it would all be so much easier. Not that I wanted to kill myself (it wasn't nearly that bad) but I just wanted to go away, you know? And, intellectually, of course, I knew that those things weren't real, but it felt like it. The worst part was the feeling that I was weak, or that I was doing something wrong, because I wasn't figuring out things, like I had with the other kids.

But Dr. Henderson assured me that I wasn't weak, and I wasn't crazy, but I did have Postpartum Depression. I wasn't surprised at all, because I knew that something more was wrong than could just be fixed with praying a lot. Actually, Dr. Henderson had a really great insight: He said that for us Church members, sometimes the answer to our prayers is go to the doctor. Which was definitely my situation.

So to make a long story short (too late!), he put me on a low dose of anti-depressant, and I am now on serious medication for the first time in my life. Apparently you need to be on the medication for 6 months so you don't have a rebound situation. Jeff tells me to just think of it as a crutch that you use while you need it. I'm just glad that I'm the lowest dose available, so that it won't be so hard when it is time to get off of it. I took the first pill this morning, and so far, nothing much, but that's a good thing. It takes about 2 weeks for the full effect, I guess. Although you're supposed to feel the negative effects right away, which is good, because then you know that you don't want to use that particular medication, or dose, or whatever.

Well, this is a completely new experience for me, and I still have this feeling that I should just be able to be "strong enough" so that I'm not affected. But, really, it's something messed up with my hormones, so it's just something I'm getting taken care of, like a thyroid problem, or something. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

I also feel like I should put in a disclaimer that I don't have PPD just because Benjamin is such a hard baby, because he's actually a complete sweetheart, and has the best smiles, and snuggles, and is just great! He does have colicky times, which makes it harder, but it's not his fault. And I really love my baby.

And thanks for all of the supportive comments and emails that I got about my last message. It really does help. :o) And interestingly enough, I can't breastfeed while I'm on the medication, so I think that it was actually one of the Lord's "tender mercies" that I had gradually already gone to pumping, and that Benjamin was already on bottles, so that it wasn't a huge abrupt transition for the two of us. Apparently, the Lord, with his omnipotent view, knew that I was going to need to move Benjamin to bottles, when I didn't, and He made it so it was easier than it might have been. Wow, I am so humbled for all the blessings I am constantly receiving, even though I have felt so alone and forgotten. But we never are.

I can breathe...I think

Well, faithful readers, I'm sorry that I haven't posted in forever, but I have been getting used to 4 kids. In particular, getting used to having that fourth child be a "colicky" baby. I have heard that term, but I never truly understood what they meant.

For me it was having my sweet, mellow baby, at 3 weeks of age, morph suddenly into this crying machine that I couldn't really soothe or help. I actually brought him to the doctor, just to make sure that he wasn't broken, or something. I was completely mystified about the whole thing, but the doctor just informed me, that, no, there wasn't anything "wrong," he was just colicky, and there wasn't much I could about it. And I could look forward to this for about the next 2-3 months.

Most babies have fussy times but this was fussy to the extreme. He can be smiling at me one minute, and then, the next thing I know, crying inconsolably. For me the worst nightmare of it all was that his colic seemed to be connected to eating. Every time that I would get him to latch on he would nurse for a few minutes and then he would inhale some, pull off, and then get mad. Or he would have a bubble and stiffen out and not want to latch on again. I would spend 1/2 an hour playing "bait and switch" with the pacifier (which he liked) to get him to latch on and eat enough. But the bottom line is that he just didn't like nursing, and it was incredibly difficult for both of us.

I have exclusively breastfed all of my other kids for a year, and none of them would take a bottle, or anything. I've never even bought formula before! (Doctors always want me to give my kids formula instead of milk around 8 months, but as they're holding their Similac clipboards while they write with their Enfamil pens, I just don't trust that they are giving me an unbiased opinion. Call me crazy.) I actually really like breastfeeding--it's easy (once you get past those first couple of weeks when it hurts like you're being tortured), it's free, it's always available at the perfect temperature, and it's better for the baby.

So I was completely bewildered at this child, and beyond upset that I couldn't fulfill that most basic need. I felt (depending on the day) frustrated, depressed, trapped, alone, crazy, desperate, miserable, and a dozen other emotions. I called my mom a bunch of times, and luckily she had wonderful suggestions, but most of all she was able to talk me off the (emotional) ledge. Thank goodness! I also called several sisters in the ward, which was wonderful to be able to do. I'm so glad that we have such an incredible network of women in the Church! Jeff also gave me an incredible blessing that answered so many of my worries, mostly telling me that Heavenly Father was aware of my struggles, and He loved me. It's so great to be reminded of that, even though I do know it. Really.

But it wasn't getting any better. Sometimes he would latch on, and I had figured out how I could help him with my hyperactive letdown (I am a seriously a firehose), but it wasn't really solving the problem, because he didn't want to eat, and we were both so stressed out. I talked to my dad, who is so awesomely practical, and he said, in effect, so you feed him formula, it's not going to kill him, and there's been lots of wonderful kids who've been formula fed. Which was true, but I wasn't ready to cry "uncle" yet.

So, I just kept at it, making the two of us miserable. Finally, yesterday, I called a lactation consultant, desperate for anything that would make it possible to get through the next 2 months (supposedly colic goes away at around 3-4 months). She listened to everything that I had tried, and then said, "I'm sorry, but I don't have any suggestions for you. You've tried everything that I tell people to do. Just keep at it. Good luck!"

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!? Nothing!? Sigh. . .

After that, my mom suggested that I don't get so hung up about how much he eats, and just feed him for the 4-5 minutes that he'll stay on, and stop trying to getting him to latch on again, since it makes him so upset. Because maybe he gets full really fast. Except that he drank TWO bottles of breastmilk last night, so he's able to get 8 oz at a time with no problem. He loves bottles and just doesn't like nursing, plain and simple. Also, last night I couldn't get him to even initially latch on to save my life.

After a lot of thought and prayer I realized a few key things:

#1, Even according to a professional, I've tried everything that there is to do. I've done research, and talked to every one I could think of, etc. I have done everything that I could think of.

#2, Although I prefer nursing, formula and bottles are not evil or from the devil. As a matter of fact, talking to a couple women who had to do exclusive formula from the beginning, their babies had less problems eating, and have had no immune problems whatsoever. One gal's kids have never even had an ear infection. And they are perfectly bright and wonderful children.

#3, The bottom line is that I need to do what is the right thing for my child and for me. Nursing was such a source of stress for the two of us, and wasn't meeting his needs. So if formula and bottles are the best way to do that, then they are the best thing for us.

Last night I tried offering myself once, but he didn't want to latch on again, so I just said, ok, and gave him a bottle of breastmilk and formula mixed together. And it was amazing, how much happier he was. Has been this whole day, as a matter of fact. There was no screaming, no struggling, no anything! Except for eating and sleeping. And he only got up once, as opposed to 2 or 3 times, because he was actually full! Jeff got a better night's sleep with no crying next to the bed each time, and I was able to sleep better, and Benjamin was much happier. I feel like singing hallelujah!

Right now I'm pumping each time that I feed him so that I can give him a bottle of milk and formula mixed. I know that pumping is not ideal, but I'm willing to do it for as long as I can. And who knows, in a couple of months he might want to nurse after this whole colic thing is done. But I'm ok if eventually we move to only formula, as long as he's ok. Hopefully I can figure out a good system for the pumping. Right now, I'm just thrilled that he's eating, and he's happy about it. Finally!

So, dear readers, wish me luck, and pray for us both. And hopefully I will continue to have better and better updates for you.

And Baby Makes Six?

Well, it's been almost 3 weeks since the newest Christensen arrived, and I'm barely starting to feel like myself, but I thought I would try to post an update for everyone. Forgive me if this is old news, and feel free to skip it.

Just like when Kelcey was born, this baby didn't seem to feel the need to come on his due date or even later, so our Doctor scheduled me for an induction the week after, on Monday the 23rd. My mom came on late on the 19th, so we had a weekend of hanging out, hoping that contractions would start, or something, but. . .nada. I had a great time with my mom, but I was hoping that we would have been in the hospital. C'est la vie.

Anyway, the hospital was supposed to call us Monday morning between 5:30 and 8:30, and, of course, they didn't call until 8:15. I was seriously freaking out, afraid that we weren't going to be able to have the baby, but thankfully everything worked out as planned. Jeff and I went to the birth center, and, after a short wait, we were shown into our labor room. The doctor on call was Doctor Henderson, which I was glad about, because he's a wonderful doctor, very practical and down to earth, and he's also a member of the Church. He was even a bishop of the Raleigh 2nd ward several years ago, and his wife is currently the Stake Relief Society president. Interestingly enough, Sister Henderson spoke in our ward's Sacrament Meeting the day before we went to the hospital, so we were chatting about that while the nurse was getting my IV in, etc.

They gave me pitocin right away, and then, after awhile, when the contractions started to get worse, Doctor Henderson gave me the epidural. Getting the epidural is awful, and really painful, but once it's in there, it is so much better, that any pain is completely worth it. I think that a few minutes of fairly intense pain is definitely better than hours of really intense pain. I swear, I would do commercials for epidurals, if they would let me.

Anyway, I had finally progressed enough for them to break my water around 1:00 pm. That's always the thing that really gets me going, and so I was at a "10" and ready to push at just after 2:30.

The thing that I especially love about epidurals is that I can feel the pressure without feeling the pain so I know when it's "time". Just as the nurse was telling me that I should let her know when I started to feel the pressure down in my bum, instead of in my belly, I had this really big contraction with tons of pressure that all felt just "down", you know? The nurse checked, and yup, the baby's head had moved down with that contraction, and it was time to push.

Doctor Henderson came in, the nurse did the cool "transformer" move with the bed, and we were ready to go. I pushed with 2 contractions, and Benjamin Bryan Christensen was born at 2:39 PM, on February 23rd. Yeah, I know, my labor is ridiculously easy and short. "Don't hate me because it's easy." :o) Labor, at least with an epidural, is actually my favorite part of the whole pregnancy.
Benjamin was absolutely beautiful, and we had a wonderful time holding him while Doctor Henderson stitched me up, etc. His Apgar was an 8/9, and once they weighed him we got a huge surprise (pun intended): he was 9 lbs, 3 oz! Jarom had been 7-9, Taran was 8-1, and Kelcey was 8-3, so we figured that he would be bigger, but I didn't think he'd be a whole pound more! I guess that having him marinating for that extra week really made a difference.

I don't have any complaints, because my labor wasn't any harder (obviously), and I couldn't tell any difference when it was time to push, as compared with our other kids, and he is so much more alert and ready to go. He was holding his head up by himself almost from the first hour, he nursed like a champ from the get-go, and he is just awesome!!

My mom stayed for a week after we got home from the hospital, and was our total guardian angel. Jeff had a conference in Winston-Salam and was gone for the two days right after I got home from the hospital, and my mom took care of everything: getting the kids ready, doing carpool, making dinner, and she even did all of our laundry the Saturday before she left. Mom, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!!! I literally could not have survived without her, especially because I was going through the "baby blues" during that first week. You know, crying at the drop of a hat, having roller coaster emotions, feeling trapped and desperate one moment and perfectly fine the next, not to mention the "crazy thoughts."

For example, I had to go to the bank one morning and I left Benjamin at home with my mom since it was such a quick trip. I had to go inside and it was very crowded. So as I'm standing in line I have this horrible vision of someone taking the bank hostage while they rob it, and I start having a total panic attack, tearing up and breathing hard, worried that if that happened that I wouldn't be able to get home in time to feed Benjamin, and what if I never made it home at all, and what if I got in an accident on the way home, and what if. . . !!!!

I've gotten back to my normal hormonal and emotional self (well, mostly. . . I still cry at stupid commercials), thank goodness. I still don't understand what the purpose is behind giving new mothers a hormonal cocktail that could knock out an Rhino, but I'm sure Heavenly Father has a good reason. I'd just like to know what it is. :o)

Now that it's been almost 3 weeks, I can't believe how wonderful he is. He has fussy times, of course, but he's sleeping pretty much all night with only one feeding around 4:00, and he's starting to really enjoy his swing and bouncy seat, so that I'm on my way to being able to actually do things when I need to, like get my other kids ready for school, or the dishes, or whatever.

Jeff has been so great, and has really stepped up helping around the house. He has made some real sacrifices to be able to help me in the mornings, and putting the kids to bed, etc. Jeff has so much going on with work and his calling, but somehow he's found the time to be there when I really need him. Man, how lucky am I!?!

Well, I hope that this has answered all your burning questions, and that I didn't gross anyone out. :o) I wanted to share our story with all of you, and tell you how much I've appreciated the sweet things that you have done and said. Thank you for everything. And now, I need to go take a shower before little hoosie wakes up. :o)

Taran's Birthday

Well, to give you a quick update, it's Saturday night, 5 days after my due date, and Benjamin has still not made an appearance. Thankfully, I am scheduled for an induction Monday, if he doesn't decide to get his rear in gear. Personally, I'm not holding my breath. But I'm all good, because my mom came late Thursday night (YAY!!!) and we're having a great time waiting around.

Actually, today we went to Lowe's and got everything we need to do two garden boxes and some landscaping in our backyard. So we're keeping busy. Actually, I'm starting to get a little freaked out, because all of sudden, there's no more time left, and I feel like there's still a bunch of things that I need to get done. Not for the baby to come, but just for real life to continue; like, do the laundry, pay the bills, etc. Oh well, it will all work out just fine, I'm sure.

Anyway, the real reason that I posted it that I wanted to put up the pictures of Taran's birthday before it got too late. The castle cake that I promised her did in fact make an appearance, but I will not say that it was my best work. In fact, there's no way that I would put this in my portfolio, but she enjoyed it, so that's what really counts. She was so excited by the cake and all her presents, that she just couldn't contain herself, as you can see. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I hope to have some good news in a day and a half. :o)

My Trippy False Alarm

Hey everyone, just to keep you updated, we had a false alarm Wednesday night, but that's all it was. I started having what I thought were fairly strong (couldn't talk through them) contractions about 7:00, or so, and fairly regular (5 min apart) so after we put the kids to bed we called the doctor, and went to Rex about 9:30. Well, they checked, and I was still only at almost a 2, so we walked around for an hour or so, and then the doctor checked again, but I was only at a 2, maybe a 2 1/2, and I just wasn't progressing, so about 12:45, they sent us home. SIGH. . .

I'm glad that I didn't have the baby, because it would have been early, and I firmly believe the longer you can keep the baby inside, the better (within reason, of course: once the due date is here, his lease is up!), BUT once you get to the hospital you think that you're going to come away with a baby. We got all geared up and excited, and then, nothin'. It really is good, because he's obviously not ready, it was just very disappointing.

Oh, but this was a funny part to the story: When we were discharged my doctor gave me an Ambien (sleeping pill) so that I would be able to relax and sleep until the contractions petered out. As the nurse was giving it to me she said that it wouldn't really knock me out, just get me relaxed. Well, since extra-strength Excedrin is the most serious medication I ever take, I guess it hit me harder than they thought. On the 12 minute ride home I started being unable to focus, and then was seeing double, and then completely zonked out. Jeff had to practically carry me into the house (no mean feat) and I apparently started spouting gibberish to our sweet neighbor who had come over to be with the kids while we were at the hospital. I don't remember anything about coming home, just leaving the hospital. I guess I should be glad that I don't have any real sleep issues, because apparently I can't hold my medication. :o)

Oh, I have been told that my last pictures of the horror that is my cankles didn't do them justice, so I took a comparison picture to let you know how NOT normal my feet/legs are. Now, in the spirit of complete disclosure, I should tell you that Jeff has better ankles than me even when I'm not pregnant (isn't that sad?), but they're not this bad! Anyway, it can give you an idea.

I am also including a couple of pictures of my puffy feet at the end of the day. As Jeff says, "that's just not right."

Well, I'll let ya'll know if anything actually happens, but as of right now, we're just waiting around.

Cankle update

As of today I have less than a week left, officially, but my kids never seem to be in a hurry, so we'll have to see when this little guy actually makes an appearance. My feet/ankles are so swollen they look they're blown up like balloons; to the point where I can only fit into my flip-flops (luckily, we live in North Carolina), and they still leave marks in my puffy feet.

Jarom told me the other day that he hopes that Benjamin comes soon so that I "won't be fat anymore, and look like the people in Wall-E who can't get off their chairs." Seriously, those were his words. I would be upset, except for that it's so true. So I just laughed hysterically instead. :o) Because I do kind of look like the people in Wall-E! I am so swollen that you can't really see "me" anymore, and it's really hard for me to get up once I've sat down.

I feel bad for the kids because this is their last chance to have me to themselves before the baby comes, but I just barely can stand to have anyone touching me. When they try to crawl into my lap I can deal with it for about 5 minutes, and then I need them to get up. Hopefully they won't be too emotionally scarred. I keep telling myself, kids are resilient, but how long does that argument work?

Anyway, I have an OB-Gyn appointment tomorrow, and if I have any good news I'll post that. Or bad news too, I guess.

Taran's birthday is Friday, and I have promised her a "Castle cake" with pink frosting. It actually shouldn't be too hard to do, if I can manage to stand up long enough to put the darn thing together. In my head it's really adorable, and I'll post some pictures of that if it turns out at all.

Well, here's hoping that Benjamin doesn't decide to overstay his welcome. . .

Let it Snow!!

A couple of weeks ago we had an actual snowstorm that gave us 6 inches of snow and a couple of days off of school to play in the wonderful white stuff. I was beyond happy, and really enjoyed the whole thing. Surprisingly enough, I also enjoyed the fact that it only lasted for about 2 1/2 days. I guess I'm becoming acclimated to North Carolina after all. Actually, if it would snow like this just a couple of times a year, once before Christmas, and once after, I think I would be completely happy with North Carolina, and never get those overwhelming urges to move to Chicago that I get every so often.

The kids had a fabulous time playing in the snow, although Kelcey and I called it quits long before anyone else was ready to go in. I was amazed at their staying power, especially because we didn't have any real snow pants or clothes for them. They don't even sell that stuff in NC, except at specialty stores. Jeff was such a good sport too, pulling the kids around the yard on our boogie board, since we also don't own any sleds.

The snow was actually too powder-y to build a snowman that first day, believe it or not, but by the second day, as it was starting to melt, it was perfect. We had to raid our neighbor's yard for enough snow, but it was lots of fun. I couldn't bend over to pack snow very well, but I was able to find stuff for the eyes and nose. All in all, we had a fabulous time, and really enjoyed the extra couple of days of vacation.