Facebook Giveaway!

Did you know that Beyond the Crib is on Facebook?  Beyond the Crib is slowly evolving  and branching out to also become a community resource for parents, bringing together my experiences with those of my peers.  I hope you will find it useful and become and active participant.

Now, not only can you find me here and on Facebook, but look for me on Twitter and Pinterest too!  I can't wait to share more of my thoughts and ideas with you.

Come LIKE Beyond The Crib's Facebook page and join in the conversation.  Once I receive 100 likes, everyone who has liked the page is automatically entered in to win a $10 gift card to Target.  If you refer a friend, please let me know.  Each referral earns you one extra chance to win.  I have many more exciting giveaways lined up in the coming months.

Stay tuned for more exciting news from Beyond the Crib!

Parents of Preemies Day 2013

Everyone knows about Linus, my micropreemie, and the inspiration for this blog, but Linus was not my first experience with the NICU.  Evan was born in June 2002 at 34 weeks and 5 days at a hospital not equipped with a NICU.  After 2 days in labor at 8 centimeters dilated, all it took was 10 minutes of Pitocin to jump start my labor.  My obstetrician, who thought he could run to grab a bite to eat was called before he even made it to the parking lot.

I knew there was an issue as the ob was closely watching the rise and fall of my baby's chest as he was being measured in the baby warmer.  I heard something about grunting and calling a pediatrician.  Soon, my little guy was whisked down the hall to wait for a consult with the pediatrician on call.  I wanted to get on down to where the baby was.  After a quick shower and a very large ice pack, I waddled myself down the hallway to a little room off of the nursery where my baby was surrounded by nurses and a pediatrician I did not know.  She told my husband and I that our baby was having difficulty breathing and that they had tried, unsuccessfully to give him an IV.  They had even tried inserting it in his little head.  I just wanted to pick him up and snuggle.  Instead, I sat next to his bed waiting for transport to come take my baby to another hospital.

The pediatrician wanted to know the baby's name.  We hadn't decided yet.  I knew his middle name would be Dean.  We were waiting to name him until we saw him.  He was either going to be Nathaniel or Evan.  The pediatrician put in her vote for Nathaniel.  We also shared the name our children had voted on: John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt!  The transport nurse had a good chuckle.  Soon it was time to watch my baby being transported out of the hospital while I waddled back to my room.

I kept asking when I would be allowed to leave.  I was not staying at this hospital if my baby was across town at another.  My ob told me that the minimum was 6 hours, BUT my swelling needed to subside considerably before he would discharge me.

I love those gloves filled with water and frozen after I give birth.  They make the perfect ice packs.  I iced and rested and tried to pretend that my baby was just down the hall and not miles away.  Soon, my 6 hours were up and I was allowed to leave, but not until I filled out the birth certificate papers and named our son.  We finally decided on Evan, which means young warrior.

It was now after 10pm and we were in our car, on our way to see our boy.  We arrived at the NICU and scrubbed in.  Our lovely transport nurse was there taking care of him.  I was able to nurse Evan and help give him his first bath.  There was a room that we could stay in, reserved for situations like this.  I didn't leave the NICU for 3 days.  Evan had a few ups and downs and he was discharged with an apnea monitor after 10 days.

We are very blessed.

Happy Parents of Preemies Day 2013.

Neighbors

Earlier this week Evan took Mattie, our very exuberant Labrador Retriever, out for a walk.  He set off before school, filled with responsibility and pride, with the leash and a bag for waste.  As he walked down our road, he saw another man walking his dog.  Mattie must have become very excited.  She pulled and ran, thinking she had found a new friend.  Evan held tight to the leash as they approached our neighbor and his dog, probably with a big smile on his face.  With just a few words, that smile was wiped clear away.  Our neighbor looked at my 10 year old son and said, "Keep your filthy dog away from me."  Evan came home with his head hung low.  He no longer had a spring in his step.  How dare this man talk that way to my boy?  I can't understand why people treat their neighbors this way.

When we were planning on buying a house, I couldn't wait to become a part of a neighborhood.  I had candy coated dreams of sipping lemonade on the front lawn with my neighbors as we watched our children play from dawn to dusk.  We would drop cookies and casseroles off at each others doorsteps to celebrate babies and to bring comfort during hard times.  There would always be someone to help out a few steps away.  There would be block parties and community Easter egg hunts.  We would never be alone because we were surrounded by friends.

I guess I didn't do enough research, because that does not exist, at least not in my neighborhood.  Where are Lorelai and Rory Gilmore?  I want to live in Stars Hollow.  Everyone is in each others business, sometimes a little too much, but always in a good way.

I have birthed babies, buried babies, gone through good times and bad without much acknowledgement from my neighbors.  Every time someone new moves in, I try my hardest.  I bring over cookies and try to strike up conversation.  I have made a few friends, but there doesn't seem to be a sense of neighborhood.  Maybe I live on the wrong side of our horseshoe shaped lane.  There are more families with small children around the horseshoe.  I guess the grass always looks greener on the other side.

Don't get me wrong, there are some great families in my neighborhood.  There are the neighbors from up the block who brought over a huge tray of Penne ala Vodka when Linus was in the NICU and the neighbors further up who are very generous with their hand-me-downs.  There is the boy up the block who is one of Katie's best friends and a bunch of little girls on the other side of the horseshoe who are playmates of Alice and Lucie.

I am still looking for Stars Hollow.  If you find it, let me know.

Babysitting

Is there a specific age or grade level that can accurately rate the adeptness of a babysitter?

When my older girls were little, I hired our seventh grade neighbor to babysit for us when we went out.  Seventh grade equals 12 or 13 years old.  I had no problem trusting her with the care and well-being of my four and two year old daughters.  I, myself, started babysitting in seventh grade.  I started out as a mother's helper.  The mom worked from home in a basement office, while I was upstairs with her 2 (and eventually 3) children.  Eventually, I graduated to watching them at night when she would go out to dinner with her husband.

Seventh grade seemed just right to me, but then I started to get to know tweens and teenagers, my own included.  Age does not equal maturity or responsibility.  I have one daughter, who until fairly recently, would only be allowed to babysit if I was sure my other daughter was home too.  Those who know us may be surprised to find out which was the one I was uneasy about. I won't divulge that secret, now that I have two very competent babysitters, both together and on their own.

Recently, a 39 year old mom from New Cannan, Connecticut was arrested for leaving her four children, ages 13, 10, 4, and 1.5, home unattended.  To me, that seems very well attended.  Most 13 year old girls and boys are more than competent to be left home to babysit for their siblings or neighborhood children.  Unfortunately, that was not the case with this girl.  The four year old was able to get out of the house and cross the street to a neighbor's yard.  The neighbor called the police who found the children "home alone."   Upon returning home, the mother was charged with "risk of injury to a minor."

Who is at fault in this situation?  The mother?  The teenager?  The neighbor?  Obviously, the teen was not paying enough attention to her siblings if she did not notice one slip out the door.  Then again, this four year old might be a little escape artist.  Maybe, the mom should look into installing a few locks out of the preschooler's reach.  The neighbor could have taken the child back home and spoken with the teen and her mother when she returned instead of calling the police.

This story could have ended badly.  The child could have gotten hurt, or worse.

A few months ago, there was an episode of "Good Luck, Charlie" where the toddler, Charlie, under the supervision of her older brothers, walks out of the house and visits the neighbor.  The neighbor immediately called the child's father and then played games with the little girl until he arrived to bring her back home. In the end it was all a big joke, everyone laughs, cue the happy music, "Good Luck Charlie!"

Times have definitely changed since I was 13, and children wandering out alone and in the street can lead to many dangerous situations.  Do you think that this mother should be charged with neglect for leaving her 13 year old daughter home to watch her siblings?  At what age do you think someone becomes qualified to babysit?

Postpartum

The postpartum period is an interesting roller coaster ride.  You can be happy one minute and a raving lunatic the next.  I will swear up and down that I am very good when I am pregnant, but I don't know if I can say the same thing about the postpartum period.  I have vague memories of telling my husband to pack a suitcase, as well as a slight recollection of throwing plates.  I hope you won't hold any of that against me.  Please tell me that you also became hormonal messes who did things totally out of character when you were postpartum.

The postpartum period on top of grieving is another thing.  Your hormones are going crazy causing hot flashes and sweating one moment and chills the next.  Your milk comes in and there isn't a baby waiting to be fed.  It's bad enough that you cry at the drop of a hat, but you can't stop crying because you are dealing with the reality of your new title - bereaved parent.

I have a confession to make..  To this day, I do not watch anything on USA Network, which, unfortunately, happens to be my husband's favorite.  We used to watch Burn Notice, Psych, and Royal Pains every week - every week when I was pregnant with Bennett.  For some reason, I associate USA Network and those shows with losing Bennett.  Back in 2010, the new seasons were going to be premiering in June when Bennett was due.  I figured Pierre and I would be curled up on the couch, baby on my chest, watching these shows while I nursed.  Royal Pains was about two brothers - one named Evan.  Every time we watched that show I imagined my two boys, as adults, working together, and being best friends.  When I lost Bennett, I couldn't watch that show again.  At first, I would get vehemently angry with my husband when he watched these shows.  How could he watch a show about two brothers when Evan's brother was dead?  One of the other shows on USA featured an actress (who shall not be named, since I've never been fond of her) who was pregnant at the same time as me and had her baby right around my due date.  Every time I looked at her, I would lose it.  Wouldn't you know that this was my husband's new favorite show.  I couldn't watch anything that had the little USA logo on the right hand corner of the screen.  Just seeing it brought me right back to losing my son.  I still don't enjoy any of those shows, but they don't bring about the same reaction anymore.

Yes, looking back at it now I know I sounded a little bit crazy.  I take that back, I was a lot crazy and totally irrational.  I am very lucky to have a very understanding husband, who deserves to watch whatever he wants on TV tonight.