33.3% of a year and the S.W.A.T. team.

That's how old Smush turned on Saturday.

Oh yes. He is four months old.

Here's he is in The Chair:

Oh my, he is huge.

On Sunday, a new friend of mine from my church congregation thought he was eight months old. Understandable. Sometimes, I think he's eight months old, too.

In other news, the S.W.A.T. team raided the house directly behind mine yesterday afternoon. The story is awesome, but I don't have time to write it today. My brother-in-law and his wife and daughter are coming for dinner and I've got to get the macaroni into the Crock Pot pronto. But I'll leave you with a picture to whet your appetite:

Why yes, I did whip out my camera and take a whole bunch of pictures of the event (I'm a journalist!). And why yes, that is a battering ram behind the SWAT vehicle.

Did they end up using it? Were shots fired? Did anyone get taken to the pokey? Find out when I write my next entry!

My kidlets.

Today, I'm going to share a little bit about my mini-me's. They pretty much occupy my entire life (except when they're sleeping). And in my quest for my degree in Motherhood, they are my professors.

Bubby

Bubby will be 3 on October 11. But to most, she is far more advanced than a 2-year-old ought to be. When she was only a year old, she knew her numbers 1 through 10, alphabet, shapes and colors. She is a whiz at puzzles. My mom gave her her first jigsaw puzzle when she was 18 months old. It was a wooden puzzle with 12 pieces. We thought it would take her a while to figure it out, but we were wrong. Within days, she completed the puzzle easily. Her current favorite puzzle is one of a princess castle. It has 48 pieces, and she learned how to put it together in just five days. I kid you not. She also has a puzzle of the 50 states, which she also learned in just a few days. She knows all of their names and most of the capitals, too.

I guess what this means is she has a very impressive memory. She learns the lyrics to songs really quickly. Imagine my surprise when, at just 2 years old, I heard her singing along to Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" in the car! She also recites her books. She follows along as we read and memorizes what we say. Then, she quotes the words verbatim.

Bubby speaks well for her age and she is also very tall. So, people are usually surprised when I tell them she's only 2. Sometimes, I find it hard to believe as well.

Bubby is very expressive. When she is happy, she is ecstatic. When she is mad, she is a raging maniac. When she is sad, she throws herself in a pile on the floor and sobs, Disney princess-style. When she thinks something is funny, she laughs hysterically.

Bubby loves family. She enjoys playing with her brother (whom she calls Baby Guy) and thinks it's the best when he smiles at her. She is also very concerned when he spits up. She is a big helper and always does what I ask her to do. And when Daddy comes home, she lights up, runs to the door and gives him a big hug. She has him wrapped around her little finger for sure. She really loves to play with her cousins or visit her grandparents and gets very sad when it's time to go.

Bubby is an outgoing, precocious child and she lights up my life every day. I love watching her learn and grow. She's becoming more of a person and less of a baby with each minute that passes.

The Smush

The Smush is just a little guy, almost 4 months old (a new chair picture coming this Saturday!). He looks a lot like his big sister. But unlike Bubby, he loooooves to be held and doesn't want to be put down for anything. Bubby was content to lay on the floor or sit in her bouncer forever if needed. Not Smush. He gets bored of the scenery after only a few minutes.

Baby Guy is also very big, just like his sister, and he has the fat rolls to prove it. I suspect he's about 16 pounds now (we'll know for sure on Friday, at his 4-month appointment). He can now roll over from tummy to back and he holds his head up well. He also scoots around on his back and ends up in some crazy places.

Smush is a generally happy baby. He often smiles at people. He is quite social and will talk to anyone or anything -- ceiling fans, stuffed animals, pillows ... you name it. All the family members are enamored with his little grin.

Smush is a cat-napper, but he sleeps alllllll night. I'll take the good with the bad, but I do wish I he'd nap for more than a half hour at a time.

He is definitely a Mama's Boy at the moment. Maybe it's because I am his sole food source. But any time he is upset, he'll calm down the second he's in my arms. Melts my heart.

I love my babies. Sometimes, they try me in ways I never imagined, but all good professors challenge their students, right? And in the end, you usually end up appreciating them so much more than you thought you would because they challenged you.

Motherhood is definitely the most difficult subject I've ever studied, but it's by far the most rewarding.

Nursing in public: "In poor taste"?

This has been out for a week or so, but I finally got a chance to listen to it today and my blood is just boiling.

Follow this link and fast-forward to 6 minutes. This is where Lisa, the host of this radio show, begins to run her mouth about nursing in public. She and her daughter went to a restaurant and her daughter pointed out a woman who was nursing a baby in a booth nearby. She does note that the woman's breast was NOT exposed in any way.

If you're a busy mom like myself and don't have time to listen to it, let me share my favorite parts. Yes, I used my ex-reporter skillz and actually took these soundbites verbatim. That's how much I love you all!

"Could she not have done this in the car ... while they were driving there?" (oh yeah, let's unbuckle the kid while the vehicle is in motion ... why didn't I think of that?!)

"It was just in such poor taste!"

"It just made me lose my appetite."

"There should be laws against breastfeeding in public."

"Listen, let her go to the ladies' room!"

"I find (nursing in public) to be disgusting. I just don't see a reason for it."

"Why is this not indecent exposure?"

Her co-host asks if nursing mothers should be forced to stay at home and not go out until the child is weaned. Her response:

"Yes, I think you should be discreet and stay at home! Or pump and bring the bottle with you."

Lisa then suggests that nursing mothers go into the bathroom to nurse:

Caller: "There's nowhere to sit to do it (in a public restroom). Should I sit on the floor? On the toilet?"

Lisa: "Yeah!"

"Even when you're not nursing and you have to prepare ... you know, you prepare your formula, and the bottles, whatever you need to take along with you ... I mean, that's just good preparation." (You know, because having the milk ALREADY IN YOUR BODY and warmed to the correct temperature isn't good enough preparation as it is. Sheesh!)

"It's probably the wisest choice as a parent that you can make, but I just don't want to see it in public."

"It's just bad manners to hike your blouse up and have a baby's head underneath, even if you're not exposing yourself."

Ok, I'll let you have a moment to take some deep breaths and pick your jaw up off the ground.

...

Welcome back!

Now, let's discuss.

First of all, I could not believe this woman had the gall to insinuate that the nursing mother was being indecent. Had you tuned in late, you might have thought she'd jumped up on the table, ripped her shirt off and started pole dancing. She was feeding her baby. And from the sound of it, she was doing it rather discreetly. So, what was the big issue?

Second, did you notice the disgusted, self-righteous tone of Lisa's voice? It actually hurt my feelings to hear her talk about what I find to be a sacred and beautiful experience in such a callous, heartless way. She did mention she never nursed any of her children. Perhaps she regrets that decision and has taken to belittling those who do breastfeed to make herself feel better.

Third ... who do people think they are, suggesting others nurse in a restroom? For starters, bathrooms are for excreting bodily waste. So they smell awful. And they're usually dirty. And I've never once seen a bathroom with a chair in it, so where are we nursing moms supposed to sit? Oh yeah, Lisa suggested the floor or the toilet. How thoughtful.

You know what, Lisa? Your smug attitude makes me want to lose my appetite. How about you take your chicken sandwich and waffle fries into the restroom and eat your meal on the toilet? Because really, your attitude is "just in such ... poor ... taste." And I find it indecent and disgusting.

Or maybe you should have just stayed home in the first place.

EDIT: One reader commented that she followed the link, but couldn't hear the audio. I went to the link to investigate and it appears it has been removed. The original air date was 7/6, so I am guessing they only remain up for a week. Either that, or 106.3 FM in South Carolina is feeling remorse for Lisa's comments.

What I loved about my VBAC.

I've been pondering on my last post quite a bit over the past few days. I received a lot of comments -- I think more than I've ever had on any post. It obviously resonated with many of you. I am glad I have so much support in my recovery.

I worry I may have come off as ungrateful and whiny, though. I do know things could have been much worse. But also, I realize I was able to have an uncommon, sought-after delivery: a VBAC. And it was a wonderful experience.

So, I've compiled a list of reasons I did love my VBAC (the birth, not the recovery). Here it goes:

1. No restriction. I was able to sit up and move around during the pushing phase. With my C-section, I was strapped to a table and "the action" was happening behind a tent (I'm glad about that, don't worry). I didn't look during my VBAC, as I'm sure I would have fainted. But it was nice to be able to sit up, adjust, move my legs and all that. I was an active participant in my baby's birth, whereas during my C-section, I felt like I had no idea what was going on and was just waiting for the procedure to be finished. I did have an epidural this time, so I couldn't exactly do cartwheels or anything. But I am claustrophobic, so being strapped down is no bueno in my book. Plus, I could smell, hear and feel things that made me really sick. (Yes, I said "smell." One word: cauterization.)

2. I felt my baby move through me as he made his entrance into the world. As I said before, the anesthesiologist who gave me my epidural was THE BEST. Seriously, if there was an Emmy or Oscar for epidural placement, she'd be the winner. I could feel everything, except for the pain. I could move my legs and wiggle my toes. I felt the immense pressure as Smush descended through the birth canal. It was surreal. One of those things you can't really imagine until you've done it.

3. I got to hold my baby right away. After Bubby was extracted from the womb, the anesthesiologist lifted my head slightly and the doctor dropped the tent for a split second so I could see her, fresh out of the oven. You've all seen the picture. It was amazing, but it was fleeting. Immediately, she was whisked away to a warmer room (they keep the OR cold) to be cleaned, measured, weighed, etc. Dill went with her. I remained on the table while the doctors stitched me up. My nurses and anesthesiologist were awesome, keeping me calm with easy conversation about the baby. But, I wanted to hold her, not talk about her. My mind raced with thoughts about that precious being I'd only gotten a glimpse of. It was an hour or so before I actually got to hold her.

With Smush, it was truly a "grand entrance." It felt just like a movie. The doctor pulled him out, and I could see that the cord was still attached to me. That crazy image has been burned into my memory forever -- he had been born but he was still part of me. Then, the doctor clamped the cord and Dill got to cut it. Immediately, they stuck Smush on my chest. He was making this tiny, helpless cry. They put a blanket on top of him and a hat on his head. I rubbed him to warm him up and I talked to him. I remember vividly how he calmed down at the sound of my voice. It was a magical, special moment.

4. I was present when they determined his stats. Time, weight, length, Apgars. They just passed the word on to me when Bubby was born. That might not seem like much, but you know, since you carried that thing around for 9 months, letting you hear it first is the least they can do.

4. I got to nurse Smush right away. It was probably only 15 minutes after he'd been born and they brought him to me so I could nurse him. I was like, What? When Bubby was born, I wanted to nurse her right away as well, but the nurses told me I should wait until later; she probably wasn't hungry. So, I thought that was the norm. But Smush was hungry! He literally came out of the womb opening his mouth, looking for food (like father, like son). He then ate for an hour. It was neat to be there with my sweetheart in the quiet, calm hospital room, admiring our little porker while he chowed down.

5. Shorter hospital stay. Only two nights instead of four! Don't get me wrong; the hospital where I had Smush was a dream come true. But, after a while, the magic of the event wears off and you start to feel like an unwelcome house guest. And there's nothing quite like your own bed. So, I was really happy to be going home when I did. Although, I did miss the food. Oh, that hospital had the best food and room service. I'm salivating at the very thought of the salmon I had.

6. Well, I guess this reason has something to do with the recovery: I shrunk down a LOT faster. I felt like a whale for a good 4 months after I had Bubby, and I have the pictures to prove it. After Smush, I was back in my pre-pregnancy jeans in just 2 weeks! Big difference. I did gain less weight with Smush, but not by much. My uterus just knew what to do this time because it pushed the baby out.

P.S.~ Don't hate me for being skinny again so quick. I've been on both sides of that fence. Trust me; I'm really grateful.

7. My abs were back to normal pretty much right away. C-sections leave your abdominal muscles entirely useless for a few months, and that's frustrating. It also makes breastfeeding difficult, since you don't want a baby laying right on top of your incision. So yeah, my downstairs was a total wreck, but at least I could sit up without assistance!

Well, the Smush is crying to eat, so this post has to come to an end. But, I just wanted to put this list out there in case anyone thought I was ungrateful for my VBAC. It was a magnificent experience and I'm glad I got to have it. I realize not many people do, and that someday (hopefully) I'll be fully healed and can just remember the good things about it.

Thanks again for all your kind, supportive words. Just remember -- Childbirth is a piece of cake. Sometimes, it's red velvet; sometimes, it's 30-year-old family heirloom fruitcake.

Potpourri.

That's what this post is going to be, a potpourri of subjects. Because I have been such a bad blogger lately and now I have to play catch up.

I hope you're not mad at me. But hopefully, you'll have some sympathy for me after you finish this post.

First off: Baby Guy aka The Smush is now 3 months old. That's a quarter of a year, folks. Whaaa? I swear, I was just writing his birth story yesterday.

Well, here is his 3-month chair picture:

Such a big boy! A friend of mine pointed out the fat roll on his ankle. Mmm, butterball. Yummy little ball of fat and chubs. I could just eat him sometimes, he's so cute.

Here's a picture of the three of us, being oh so silly/drooly:

In other news, I went to the doctor at the end of June. The Ladyparts Doctor. Because, well, it's been 3 months since my VBAC and let's just say I'm still a mess downstairs. I was having all sorts of issues, the biggest one being that Mr. Dill and I were unable to, well, you know. "Special" hug, knock boots, whatever you want to call it. Excruciating pain and immense pressure. Not fun or normal at all. Furthermore, I could not, for the life of me, go poop without the help of a stool softener. Yes, I realize this is all very TMI and probably scarring your retinas as we speak. But, I'm not going to sugarcoat things for y'all. This is the reality of vaginal childbirth. It can really eff you up.

So, I took matters into my own hands went to see Dr. Ladyparts. He did a VERY thorough examination (read "VERY" with bulging eyes, as if someone is trying to scratch your brain through your hoo-hah) and determined that I have a few problems. One: Waaaay too much scar tissue up in thurr, which means it ain't stretchin' at all during "wonka wonka" and that's the number one reason it hurts so much. Two: Uterine and bladder prolapse. Which effectively means my bladder and my uterus are falling out. Yup! Imagine that.

(Wow, if I had any male readers before, they're all gone now. Guaranteed.)

As for not being able to go #2 ... Three: My perineum (you know, that tissue between hole #1 and hole #2) is still really weak and not providing any resistance to my recto-anal area. So, my body's not getting the message that it's time to "go."

Dr. Ladyparts prescribed me an estrogen cream to hopefully soften that scar tissue. He said if it doesn't work, he can perform a surgery "in the office, using local anesthesia." Well, I nearly passed out at the very mentioning of such a procedure, because that means only one thing: Needle in the Hoo-Hah. And, no thank you; I'd rather be celibate. So I'm using the cream and it's helping. But the real problem is the prolapse. See, those organs are kind of crowding into the basement a little bit and not leaving much room for Kroll the Warrior King. So when he tries to force his way in there, yeah. Ow.

Anyway.

Dr. Ladyparts said it will just take time for those organs to migrate back to their original positions. That's what happens when an 8+ pound baby is sucked out of you in 15 minutes flat. The bladder and uterus are basically forced to come along for the ride. It's physics, plain and simple.

I'm starting to regret my VBAC a whole lot. This is probably the saddest sentence I've ever typed. I did want the experience of pushing my baby out, and I got it. Thank heavens I had an epidural because the actual delivery was pleasant and memorable, whereas without it? I don't even want to think about how that would have transpired. But the recovery has been nothing short of hell, let me tell ya. As soon as that epidural wore off, I felt like I'd literally been ripped in two. And three months later, I'm still having issues. I'm really trying not to be bitter about it, but what can I say? I chose the VBAC to avoid health complications, not to acquire them. If I had known it was going to be this way, I would have opted for the repeat C-section in a heartbeat.

As for being "in a funk," Dr. Ladyparts said the estrogen would probably help with that. And I think it has. I've been feeling much better. Here's a secret (not-so-secret anymore): I've struggled off and on with depression for years. I had it before I was pregnant with Bubby, after I had Bubby, and now. Just part of my life, I guess. Some people have diabetes, some people have lupus, and some have depression. And it's OK, because medications help immensely, and there are additional ways to manage it (nutritious diet, exercise, counseling, etc.). I wish no one had to suffer from depression, but it exists and we just have to live with it.

Well, I just told waaaaay too much about my life to the Internet. Oh well. If I am able to help someone by putting my story out there, I'll do it. Vaginal delivery people: If you can't be intimate with your spouse without wanting to gouge his eyeballs out with your fingernails, go see your gynecologist. It's likely fixable. And if you suspect some of your organs have flown south for the winter, go to the doctor. He or she will at least confirm your suspicions and maybe provide you with some treatment options.

A friend of mine had a baby last week and posted on her Twitter account, "Childbirth was a piece of cake." You know, I'm glad it was good for someone. Because for me, it was also a piece of cake, but it was more like 30-year-old fruitcake.

P.S.~ If you're wondering why I avoided the V word throughout my post, it's because I don't want creepos coming to my blog looking for nasty stuff.

POST EDIT: I had to go back and state some stuff after I read through the comments.

Please, if you are considering a VBAC, keep considering! There are a lot of health benefits to having a VBAC over a repeat C-section. My VBAC was not typical. I had a large, posterior baby and a lot of bleeding (placental abruption) which meant he had to be evicted and QUICK. Had I been able to push over a longer time period, I don't think I would have had quite so many complications. There are a lot of problems associated with vacuum-assisted births. So please, if you're in the possible VBAC camp, keep reading up on VBAC's vs. RCS before you make your decision. I had a bad experience, but I also had an atypical experience.