Where has the time gone?

I feel like I have been waiting for this day to come for a while and it kinda snuck up on me.  It has been 6 months to the day that Little Logan came into my life and I never knew that there was such a loving feeling that was so strong. I absolutely and incredibly love this child more than words can describe. I finally understand why parents with crazy loud annoying toddlers think their kids are adorable and why my parents still like me after what I put them through in high school.  It is the best feeling and it is growing everyday...just like Logan!

The first three months of Logan's life were horrible to say the least. There were good days and mostly ok days but there were a lot of bad days too. I still haven't even fully relaxed and accepted the fact that Logan is pretty healthy because for so long he wasn't. And he still has his bad days where he can't poop or he throws up or he has a strangulated hernia that requires emergency surgery. And I still freak out over the little things too like when he doesn't finish his bottle or take a long nap. I hope that he is growing and getting strong and maybe one day I will relax but then again maybe I never will. Even as I am writing this Grayson asked me if I remembered how we weren't allowed to touch Logan's skin when he was first born because it was like wet tissue paper and would fall right off. And that brought back a million memories and gets me all worried again.

Each day I am just in awe that Logan is here in my life and that the Lord trusts me enough to raise this precious baby. This morning I just sat and stared at him while I fed him. When did he get so big? I mean he literally looks like a normal baby. His legs are longer and he is filling out again in his face. When we left the NICU everyone commented on Logan's double chin but he soon lost that and slimmed down a lot. He hasn't been gaining weight like he is suppose to so we are still fortifying his milk and adding a multivitamin as well. But there is no doubt he is growing. And I just barely noticed. 

I am so happy that Logan has done so well since his last hospital stay. It just goes to prove I was right about his whole bowels being screwed up and worrying like crazy when he first came home. He screamed when he tried to poop and was fussy and wouldn't sleep. Everyone blew me off and said there was nothing wrong. Then he ended up in the emergency room and was booked for immediate surgery. Since he has mostly healed from the surgery he is a different baby. And this whole mother thing is starting to be fun.

I started this post intending to make it short and sweet about Logan's progress but my mind just goes into overdrive. So now back to the point I was trying to get to. Logan is 6 months old and is the cutest little 3 month old ever.

He is now smiling a lot more and does it even when he's not getting his diaper changed.
He is eating about 3 oz. every two to three hours.
He is finally growing out of the newborn size and fits comfortably into his 0-3 month clothes. The 3 month clothes are still a bit too long.
He can track things with his eyes and sort of reaches out for toys.
He goes to sleep around 9 or 10 p.m. and wakes up once in the night to be fed. He is then up at 5 or 6 a.m. and spends an hour grunting and growling while he tries to poop and wake up for the day. He sleeps well in the swing but I am up every single hour to check on him. I even have a little flashlight on my dresser that I shine on him to make sure he isn't blue or uncomfortable.
He takes 30 minute naps in the morning which gives me just enough time to wash bottles or pump, brush my teeth and get dressed.
His eyes are big and beautiful. He never had blue eyes like I thought all babies did. They were dark grey and are now turning more green.
He has lost every lick of hair on his head besides the stuff around his ears. He had such a full head of hair when he was born and now he is almost bald. When he is hot or moving around a lot he looks like a mad scientist with little tufts sticking out the side.
He has pretty much quit breastfeeding (sob) because my milk supply has gone way down since he came home from the hospital. I barely had time to pump while Gray was at work because I was holding Logan all the time and he was still learning how to nurse. I wish now I would have been more persistent with nursing but I was so stuck on getting him the correct amount of milk that he had been taking in the hospital and it was easier to know what he was eating when it's in a bottle.
He has been rolling over from his front to his back since he came home from the hospital but is now trying to go from back to front.
He makes me laugh daily and I cannot wait for more time with my little man!

Love you Logan!

 Logan's first week home from the NICU

 Passport Photo

 Loving his toys

 Melting Mommy's heart

  Slimmed down after being home for 3 months.

Happy 3/6 months Baby Boy!!

Mama Smart

It is always wonderful to have my mom here. She has been incredible these past few months coming and going and helping with Logan. She was there two days after I delivered him and stayed for three weeks. She then came for a few days after Christmas with my dad and then again in February when we thought Logan was going to be coming home (insert major infection following surgery and 10 additional days in the hospital) She also came with my dad in April for Logan's baby blessing and she has now graced us with her presence again this week. I love it and it will be nice to be closer to them soon.

It's funny but I have noticed a few things around here since my mom has been visiting so much. Like how we both leave the cupboard doors open in the kitchen. Gray sometimes gets on my case for doing it but he can't now cause he doesn't know if it was me or my mom! Haha.



She also wakes up at 5:30 am every morning because she is still on Mountain time. It's nice because I can bring Logan out and they can party on and play while I get some more sleep... Bonus!

She likes to cook and is really good at it. Grayson pointed out to me that sometimes when I start a recipe I get distracted or ask a few questions and before long my mom has taken over and finishes the meal. And really I don't mind at all.

Once she rearranged my ziploc containers and for weeks after I couldn't find a single lid that matched up. And then she packed up all my craft stuff and my favorite scissors were MIA until I frantically unpacked everything because I had a thread that was bugging me. She also leaves the toaster out and crumbs on the counter. She will eventually clean it up but it drives me nuts cause I have just trained Gray to wipe up his crumbs. And the worst worst thing ever is how my kitchen looks like a tornado blew through after leaving her alone for an afternoon.

She does my laundry and folds my undies exactly how I like them. She babysits so Gray and I can go on a much needed date. And she encourages me to communicate better with my hubs and to not be dressed like a bag lady when he comes home from work.

She takes me shopping and picks up the tab when I claim I am broke (which I really am) and she buys Logan prizes and clothes cause they are so cute.

She micro manages my dad's office and her other 4 children while she is with me but I hardly notice because she manages to make me feel like I am her main priority. 

She changes poopy diapers and hardly bats an eye when Logan pees on her. She holds Logan when he starts to cry and walks him in circles or long strolls around the neighborhood so he settles down. And she didn't complain when her feet are shredded after a particularly long walk because she really wanted to try out her new shoes. She is patient with him when he refuses to finish his bottle and dresses him in warm outfits so he doesn't get cold. She thinks he is the most adorable baby and she appropriately takes pics of him every couple of hours to send to my family to remind them about how adorable he is. She has kissed and hugged and loved my little baby as much as I have and she proudly accepts the name grandma even though I hardly consider her old enough to be one. She supports me and loves me and still helps me with my hair and I couldn't ask for a better mother! I am so lucky. And my kitchen will recover!

Problem Child...

I knew right away that Logan was going to be a problem child. I mean he had come into my life way too early after I had asked and begged and pleaded with him to not to. I was nowhere near ready for a baby let alone a small, sick one.  I mean I assumed he was small.  All I saw was a little blue foot. I clearly remember that but then the details get muddled. Logan was whisked away by the nurses to a table where they immediately started working on him. The nurse by my bedside was trying to reassure me and get me to calm down. I heard a little squeak. The nurse smiled at me and told me that my baby was trying to cry. I heard the sound again and it was like a small kitten. There was no way that was a baby crying. It was so sad and pathetic. I looked for Logan. He was surrounded by a lot of people including the anesthesiologist. I think Grayson was still beside me holding my hand. I felt much better than before but I was still in total shock about everything. Did I really just have a baby? This couldn't be happening to me. It was all so surreal. I never even considered that I would have a premature baby so I had no clue what was in store. I remember all these people surrounding Logan for quite a while before he was taken from the room. The doctor came in and got ready for me to deliver my placenta. It was ironic because she was so calm and acted like everything was normal. Uh did she realize she had missed the main event?

I remember my placenta taking FOREVER to come out. It took longer than it did to deliver Logan and by then I was anxious and nervous and freaking out all over again. I called my mom and told her I had my baby. I could hear the worry in her voice and she told me she would get a flight the next day. Grayson called his family and then left to go be with Logan. I was able to go see my baby a little later. He was covered in saran wrap and was so so tiny. I put my finger under his hand and his whole hand fit around my first knuckle. His palm was the size of a nickle.  I then had to go back to bed but the nurses promised to let me see Logan again before he left. There was a transport team on its way because he had to go to a different hospital where they had the staff and equipment to help him. The hospital where I delivered didn't have a breathing tube small enough for Logan so they had to wait for the transport team to come before they could hook him up to a ventilator. The whole time they had a small oxygen mask over him. It covered his whole head because he was so little.  When I saw Logan again he was in a huge incubator with a tube down his throat. I cried because he looked so bad. His skin was see through and I could see his heart beating on his chest. Every time it beat his chest sunk down around his heart and he looked hollow. They were taking Logan away and Grayson wanted a picture of his new little family. I was appalled. There was no way I was going to take a picture with this small baby. It was a waste of time. The nurses and doctors had work to do. They had to save Logan because he was not doing well at all. I finally agreed to smile for a couple pictures and then Logan was gone.  Grayson left shortly after to go with Logan and then I was alone.

I felt so weird. I hadn't connected yet with this child but I felt miserable for him. He was struggling to breath and live and I was so sad that he was hurting so much. But at the same time I didn't really understand that Logan was mine. I didn't know if he was going to survive and I didn't want to get attached.  I never got to hold Logan on my chest and have that bonding moment that we had been told about just that morning. I had never felt so utterly defeated and empty. I was by myself and I finally just had a good long cry. I sobbed. I was sore from the delivery and my heart was just broken. I cried for the three and half months of pregnancy I would now miss and for the mornings of sleeping in I wouldn't get anymore. I cried for the Christmas holiday we would surely miss at home now and I cried for all the things that would never get done. But mostly I cried for Logan. He wasn't Logan yet...he didn't have a name. He was just a poor, sad little baby that came too soon. And I wasn't ready.

 

And then there were three...

There is a part of me that is still a little scared inside. I think that is why I have avoided sharing Logan's story in full detail. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to realize that the little peanut snoring next to me on the couch is actually mine. He almost wasn't.

I think there were a lot of people in our lives who knew how seriously ill and fragile Logan was. There were also a lot of people who thought I was overreacting and freaking out about nothing. The fact of the matter is (oh i love a good cliche now and then) that your baby does not spend 5 weeks on a ventilator if he is ok. He does not spend 93 days in the NICU if he is healthy. Even when you finally get him home, he is still delicate and still sick. I mean he is so super fragile and small that even a little bitty cold could send him back to the hospital. So it's scary...and I am doing the best I can.

People think I am weird cause I never take Logan out and that I am so paranoid about someone coughing or sneezing close to him. I guess the only way for them to understand is to hear about it and learn what was really going on. And I seriously need to get Logan's story out of my system. There are so many thoughts and feelings that our little family went through in these past few months and I hope that writing them down will help bring closure to the whole thing. The pain, the sadness, the relief, the joy. It's all inside me and I need tell it.

I remember finding out I was pregnant and how apprehensive and totally excited I was. I remember finding out we were having a boy and how I cried a little (don't judge. i grew up in a house of girls...i knew nothing about boys except that they pee standing up) I remember waiting for my belly to finally pop and how nervous I was getting about having a baby. And then I remember my belly never really popping because my baby came too early. I remember that there was no more time left to think or dream about him because he was here and he wasn't well at all. Then I couldn't really remember much at all. All those days and nights in the NICU gave me a lot of time to think. What happened? What did I do wrong? Why didn't I go to the hospital sooner? Why did I go to the gym when I felt so bad? Was it all the frozen lemonade I drank for 3 straight months? Was it all the water I didn't drink? The guilt was so immense that I was actually disgusted with myself for not being more alert. For not being one with my womb and knowing that something was terribly wrong. I am still trying to figure it out in my mind but it still doesn't make sense. By telling Logan's story I hope it will.

The day before I had Logan I felt yucky. Sort of like stomach flu yucky with a few unscheduled trips to the bathroom...no big deal, right? I had been so sick for the first 4 months and I was finally starting to feel good again so I brushed it aside. I was even eating normal food again and was actually craving fruit (maybe that was a sign that something was amiss) I woke up Sunday morning with cramps and went back to bed while Gray went to church. A couple hours later I hauled myself up and got ready to go to the hospital for our pregnancy tour. Yup...pregnancy tour. The tour you go on when you are still months away from giving birth. I still felt crampy in my stomach but kept it to myself. Two weeks earlier I had been in such intense pain that I thought I was going to collapse in the toilet paper aisle at Costco so I went to the OB to make sure everything was ok. I felt like a sissy when she told me everything was fine and to just keep on. So when I started feeling the same way again I ignored it. I told myself that being pregnant kinda sucked sometimes and I just needed to man up. And here is a big secret... in real life I am a total wimp! No joke! I whine and complain at the slightest discomfort and while I try not to be a drag I have to make sure everyone knows I am feeling bad. For some reason that day I really didn't say much. We did the whole tour thing and all I wanted to do was sit down. I was getting really uncomfortable. When we went to look at the birthing rooms, the nurse explained that once we had our babies they would immediately be put on our chests. It was a time for bonding that both mom and baby desperately needed. It brought tears to my eyes thinking about that moment. The moment when everything would make sense and be worth all the pain. I wanted that moment to be so special and I tried to imagine what it would be like. As we were leaving the hospital, a few nurses commented on what a good looking group we were. They wished us well and I said I would see them all again in 3 months.

I can't really recall much of what happened that afternoon. I had a nap and that was the only time I wasn't hurting. After I woke up I must have made dinner or something but all that I remember is that Gray and I started to watch this documentary about babies being born in America and how everyone is pro epidural. It was all about midwives and how it is natural for a baby to be born under water. I was so over it. By that point I was in quite a bit of pain so I decided to get in the bath. As I was getting ready to get in I noticed a little spotting. I showed Gray and he said that was fine. I decided to proceed with my tub. As I sat down in the warm water I noticed some more blood and then there was a lot. I called my mom and asked her what she thought. It was almost 8:00pm and she advised me to call the doctor. I spoke to the answering service lady and she told me that she would have the on call doctor get back to me. When she called she asked me where I was and told me I needed to go to the closest hospital and she would meet us there. I hung up and washed my hair. Looking back I could have kicked my own butt because those last few moments were precious and I should have gone faster. As we drove to the hospital I finally started to worry. The pain was really bad by then and at a red light I told Grayson to run it. Of course he didn't because it's against the law or something but I think now that he would have if he knew what was happening. Anyway we made our way to the hospital and were buzzed in at the birth center. The nurses asked me what was wrong and I told them I was in pain and kind of bleeding and that some doctor was on her way. They led me to a room and told me to wait on the bed. It seemed like forever but was probably only 5 minutes. A nurse came in and gave me a gown to change into. My pride and modesty left me in an instant. I ripped my clothes off and got back on the bed. I was bleeding more now and getting nervous. I asked Gray a million times where the nurses were. I needed help. Something wasn't right. I hurt and there was more blood. I could feel it running down my legs now and knew it was getting serious. Another nurse came in and started hooking me up to a fetal monitor. It was silent in the room while we waited to hear the baby's heartbeat. At first we didn't. I started to get teary eyed and squeezed Gray's hand. I finally relaxed when I heard a heartbeat but the nurse informed me that it was my own. I panicked. Where was my baby? Didn't they know that he had to be in there? Did they understand that he had to be there? I never realized how badly I wanted this child until I thought he wasn't alive. I cried. The nurse hooked up another monitor and then we heard it. A little flutter heartbeat. I calmed down right away because everything was fine. Surely they would give me something to stop the bleeding. I would spend the night in the hospital and eat red hospital jello. However someone had to stop the pain. I couldn't eat if I was in pain.

Then everything fell apart. One nurse wanted to check me out. She was on the phone with the doctor and said she wasn't going to see if I was dilated. The doctor told her to anyway. She put the phone down and lifted the sheet. She quickly put it down and said that I was fully dilated. Wait what? They needed to stop that fast because people that are fully dilated have babies and I wasn't having my baby. I was only 26 weeks pregnant. I still had 3.5 months to grow my belly and I still had to feel my baby get the hiccups and kick me.  Someone was starting to give me an IV and I was telling everyone that the baby had to stay inside. He wasn't ready. He couldn't come out.

Before this experience I knew very little about premature babies. My dad was a few weeks early and I had a cousin that was premature but they were fine now. I even thought the NICU was a place where full term sick babies went. I didn't know you could have a baby at 26 weeks. I didn't know that a baby could survive being born that early. All this was running through my mind as I squeezed Gray's hand and totally lost it. I kept tell anyone who would listen that they had to keep him inside. I repeated over and over again that he couldn't come, that he wasn't ready, it was too early, I wasn't ready.

By then I was huffing and puffing. My mouth was dry. I was in immense pain and someone was telling me to breath. Gray said over and over again that it was going to be ok. I felt lightheaded and someone put an oxygen mask over my face. I thought those things pushed air into you but I didn't feel anything different. Where was my oxygen? The nurse finally finished with the IV just as the other one yelled at me to calm down. She yelled again and told me to look at her. I looked at Grayson. Again she told me to look at her. I did and she screamed for me to calm down. Gray was still telling me it would be ok, it would be ok and I was still saying it was too early too early too early. The nurse told me to slow my breathing down and focus. Gray said it would be ok. I finally just yelled that it was obviously not going to be ok. I was hurting so much and telling them to keep the baby in. The next moment I was yelling for them to take the baby out. I was delirious in pain and just wanted everything to be over. They kept telling me to stop pushing and I tried to tell them I wasn't but then my body clenched up and pushed. I felt a gush of something wet and I screamed. I asked if that was the baby because there was a huge relief of pressure. I seriously thought my baby had shot out of me! I was told that was just my water breaking which was reassuring to hear cause that meant my baby was still inside and they could still stop him from coming out.

At this point it gets a little blurry. Everything started hurting again and I was off yelling again. They really needed to get the baby out. I knew that was wrong. I knew he shouldn't come out but at the time it was all I could think of. By then they were telling me to push and I was so out of it that I questioned how the nurses could ask me to breath and push at the same time. I tried to remember what I knew about giving birth but I basically knew nothing. Our birthing classes were two months away and I never saw anyone have a baby like this on TV. But I pushed or tried to. It was insane. I felt like I was splitting in two. This was happening too fast. We had only been at the hospital for half an hour. The doctor wasn't even there yet. PUSH. I tried to breath but couldn't catch my breath and then my body clenched again. I screamed.

And then he was out. My baby was here...

Little Logan  

26.2 weeks

1 lb. 15 oz.

First Family Photo

Finally! It is my turn to brag about my baby! Do you know how long I have wanted to do that? However there wasn't much to talk about when Logan was first born. Besides the fact that it was overwhelmingly traumatic and unbelievable, I imagined conversations would go
something like this:
'Your baby was 7 lbs 12 oz at birth? Wow mine was 1 lbs 15 oz. You delivered a tank' or
'Your baby could breath on his own right away? You mean it's not normal for the nurse to bag him for two hours while they wait for the transport team to arrive with a small enough ventilator tube? Crazy...'

In my mind I have been writing Logan's birth story for almost three months. In reality it is a 93 day long birth story so it is bound to be long and complex and while I do want to share that, I still am dealing with a lot of feelings...
For example, it was hard not to smack some people in the face for complaining about a crying baby in the middle of the night or a toddler that was misbehaving because at the time I would have given my whole being to be able to just hold my baby and know that he was going to survive. But since I can hold him now (all the time...) and I know that he is better, I am going to brag...a lot!

Today Logan is 4 months old! It has been a long journey and there were moments when I didn't know if we would get here...as in home together, mostly healthy and completely happy. He has been a joy in our lives from the beginning but this past month has been truly amazing.

Logan now weighs 8 lbs. 4 oz. He has almost gained 7 lbs since he was born. He is incredibly short...his legs barely make it to the knees in most of his pants and sleepers and it's funny to see him squirming because there is like 4 inches of extra fabric flopping around.

He has big blue, green, brown eyes and he has started focusing and looking right at us for a few minutes. He has so much brown hair all over his head with a small area in the back that had thinned out but is now growing back. I didn't think he would get that baby bald spot in the back because he was on his tummy a lot in the NICU and I only noticed it when we were home from the hospital. He has even started to get a little bit of bed head now when he sleeps on my chest or rolls around. It is adorable. There are a few bumps on his scalp from when he had the IVs in but those are slowly disappearing. He also has small little scars on his arms from all the pokes and IVs. His little foot looks like he stepped on a pin cushion. There was a few days where he would get stabbed every three hours...EVERY 3 HOURS. The doctors wanted to check his blood gas to make sure he was getting enough oxygen into his blood. I see those little scars now and remember the nightmare of watching him wince and silent cry every time they poked him. But I am getting distracted now.

We always put him in a little pair of mitties because he loves to scratch his face and poke his eyes. Even when he was just days old he would get his hands up to his face but his fingernails were paper thin and the size of a pin head so we didn't worry about it them then. There were other things on our mind.

He moves and shakes whenever he is awake and has even mastered the roll over! I can't believe that when he was only 2.5 weeks old (corrected age) he rolled over during tummy time. And although he is four months old it's not like he was able to work on any developmental skills in the NICU. He mostly just slept and ate. I seriously am considering contacting the world record people on this one.

He cries when we put him down so I end up holding him most of the day. There have been a few rare moments when Gray has made me try to let Logan cry it out but the longest I have lasted is 5 minutes. I think after almost three months of not being held has taken its toll on him and I love to cuddle him close anyway...most of the time. He doesn't really sleep well at night yet but I am trying to be patient. Most nights we fall asleep on the couch and then I carefully transfer him to his crib. We have a small mini bed that we borrowed from some friends and he sleeps in that inside his crib.

Logan still has to take a bottle for most every feed because he needs fortification to grow and he is anemic so he takes a multivitamin with breast milk at lunch time. He still has some edema around his eyes and has a new hernia. He hasn't even healed from the last hernia surgery and we are already preparing ourselves for another one. The worst WORST thing in the world is watching surgeons wheel your little baby away to cut him open. I am seriously considering waiting until we go back to Canada to get it done because last time he got so infected and so sick from his surgery that we were in the NICU for another week and a half.

He is still so little to me. He wears size 1 diapers but only because his hernia is so big that the newborn diapers don't hold everything in anymore. We have to wrap the diapers around pretty tightly and even then when we lift him up the diaper falls down because he is so skinny. Everyone comments on his double chin which is cute but seriously the only fat on him.

I have now reread this post and I realize it is totally random. There are a lot of Logan facts mixed in with a lot of memories. I want to get down every little fact about him so I remember but most of his life so far has been spent in the hospital and its hard to separate the growing from the healing. Either way Logan is such a blessing to us. It is a miracle that he is alive and home with us. People think I exaggerate how sick Logan was but the fact is when you get right down to it he almost didn't make it. We were on the last ventilator and had no other options if that did not work. He was small and ill and helpless. Grayson down played a lot of it because that is how he dealt with it. I remember his mom calling every night and he would tell her that Logan was doing ok and I was doing ok. I just wanted to scream out loud that Logan wasn't doing well, that he was really doing very poorly and I was a complete mess. There were people who kept on congratulating us and I couldn't believe it. What were they congratulating me for? Having an incompetent cervix? Delivering a micro baby that might not survive? I guess it really is hard to explain and this is not the time to start.

My baby is home. My baby is growing. My baby is all mine. And while there are sleepless nights and long, lonely days I wouldn't trade them for anything. Logan is my life now and I love my life!

I'm Sorry...

Dear Blog:

I'm sorry.

I have neglected you for far too long.

I have a good excuse though.

I have been very busy...

WAITING...
WATCHING...
PRAYING...
CRYING...
LOVING...
LEARNING...

HOPING...

ENJOYING...CUDDLING...

KISSING...

AND REJOICING!!

You see, I was very busy...

RAISING A MIRACLE!!

Me? A Modern Mother...

It's official... I am pregnant. OK so you all know that but now my body is reminding me of it. The other day my back was killing...killing me. I don't think I have ever...ever experienced pain in that area and I was at a loss for what to do. I had just talked to my mom who had shocked me with some unexpected news that left me feeling like I was falling off the baby attention pedestal that I had situated myself on. Gray and I had also just spent the afternoon at Babies R Us realizing that everything is super expensive brand new and totally adorable to boot!! Needless to say I was kinda depressed. Long day, achy bones, pity party...you name it. I was feeling it. To top it off I decided to start cleaning the kitchen and dropped a can directly on my toe It was a small but heavy can. I was done. I burst into tears and leaned on the counter just sobbing. Poor Gray didn't know what to do. He sweetly started me a bath which has been my nightly tradition for a while and tried to help me feel better. I jumped into the tub only to have my feet scalded with the water which left me wailing all over again. And then I realized something. I was gasping for breath and really crying except there were no tears. What? I was quite positively having a fit. I was sobbing and hiccuping and jumping from foot to foot and I wasn't even producing a drop of moisture. What a joke. Even when I tried to squeeze some tears out I ended up just hurting my eyes. I came to one conclusion. Pregnancy had dried me out. I had a small mini cry when I found out I wasn't having a girl but that was just a squirt of water and didn't count!

I guess I am just looking for some aspect of my life that has remained the same and I can't find anything...

So I have been super achy for the last couple of weeks and have tried a bazillion stretches and back flips to relieve some of the pain. The sad thing is that this seems like a pain I can't stretch or adjust away. Mostly my hips are on fire but there also seems to be a giant gas bubble lodged in my stomach that just wants to chill. So between moaning on the floor and gulping fiber supplements I am pretty pathetic.

Gray is gone ALL DAY...all day (14 hours) and is always ready to party when he has time which my body does not exactly agree with. So we have been hanging out a lot at home which just encourages me to slowly freak out about everything baby.

We are actually quite the pair...baby and me. We sleep, we eat, we try to exercise and then we sleep again. In between we browse websites for boy names that we like (no luck) and try to find cheap deals and wheels (stroller) that are somewhat affordable. And then we cry fake crocodile tears because everything is so expensive.

So to make me more of a modern mother let me know what are the absolute essentials you need for a new born. What should I absolutely buy brand new (besides diapers) and what are some things that I can get used? I mean there is so much... clothes, blankets, pacifiers, bottles, swaddle wrap thingys, bouncy chair, bassinet, baby bed, stroller, car seat, shoes, breast pump, bottle warmer, diaper pail, rocking chair, swing... and that is just to start. So fill me in... I am kinda overwhelmed!

PS I do have a pic of me at like 21 weeks or so. I just forgot where I put the camera cord...and the camera!