High Five

It's AMAZING how much can change in the life of a baby in just one month. One week really. In a minute a baby can go from being unable to do something, to mastering that same something. It's just so amazing to watch. Another month has come and gone, and my little guy hit FIVE months on Saturday. Can you believe that? Me neither.

Garrison at 5 months… already too cool for pictures with mom

Name: Garrison Carter GREAVU- emphasis on the Greavu. The day before Garrison turned five months, we finalized the adoption and received the court order granting him his new name! (if you missed it, catch up here)

Our only photo from finalization. My hair was cute and straight and then
I stepped out of the hotel and into 336,518% humidity. Why Florida, why?
Garrison slept through the whole thing, so this is as good as it gets…
he was actually exceptionally adorable.

Nicknames: Bupsie, Goobsie, Little Butt, Bubba, Fussy Butt. His dad calls him Chunky Butt and Chunk-a-lunk too. 

One of our favorite onesies…Gryffindorable.
Obviously, he's in the Gryffindor house.

Stats: 13 lbs 6 oz and 24 inches long. You guys, he GREW! When I heard the nurse say 24 inches I almost died. He went from half an inch in a month to an inch and a half in a month! Yay growth spurt! He's about the 2nd percentile for height and 5th percentile for weight, so still extra petite, but we're going in the right direction, rocking our own little curve. We just switched out his clothes last weekend, so he's in 3-6 month now. Still size one disposable diapers.

Heeeeyyyy mom

Eating: This is starting to feel redundant. He still eats every three hours, and he still eats about 4-4.5 ounces at every feeding. Some days he'll eat well, and some days he won't. He's eaten 5 oz like two or three times ever, but for the most part we feel good to get 4.5 in him. 

Mom, just be thankful we're not on the tight snaps.

Sleeping: Talk about changes! Hallelujah! So last month we finally got the crib. We put him in it, and he lost his ever loving mind! Absolute hysteria. He got himself so worked up, that he flipped himself over. This of course happened while Sam was on night duty. I woke up to check the monitor only to see him swaddled, FACE DOWN, in the crib. Heart attack. I knew he wasn't dead because he was moving, but ughh just so scary. We had to lose the swaddle and fast. This was the first time he had rolled from back to stomach, but he wasn't rolling from stomach to back yet, and the swaddle would only make it that much more unlikely he'd get back over if he flipped again. Sam and I took turns sleeping in the nursery that week to make sure it didn't happen again. We were swaddling with one arm out in the halo. They were rough nights. We were exhausted. And then, suddenly he slept through the night on night five. Night six and seven were bad again, but night 8 started a string of good nights. We were letting him fuss for ten minutes before going to check on him (longest 10 minutes EVER) and slowly, we just stopped needing to get up. If he woke up, he put himself back to sleep within a couple of minutes. Now, he rarely even cries at all. High five, little man! We put him down at 7:45, do a dream feed at 9:30, and he typically sleeps until 6:30 without a peep. Getting to 7:00 can sometimes be hard, but overall it's SO much better. 

He sleeps on his tummy, which I hate. I swore he'd sleep on his back until at least 6 months. The problem is that at 4 months and 8 days, he mastered rolling. He went from never rolling (except the one terrifying nighttime fluke) to rolling stomach to back and back to stomach in one day. After that, he rolled over every single night. I worried for a while, but thank God for video monitors. I can't see him breathe, but I can see that he's moved. Garrison is a wiggle worm. He fully utilizes all of the space in his crib. 

Garrison's migration around the crib each night.

Likes: Garrison LOVES bath time, but sadly he's more interested in bathing in the big boy bathtub (i.e. the infant bathtub, without a sling) now then snuggling with his mom in the tub. Kind of breaks this mama's heart because bath time was our only skin to skin time…we didn't get to do skin to skin in the hospital and he pretty much always hated it when we tried it. Except in the bath. I knew we would eventually lose this, but I wasn't quite ready. I still try it once a week or so, but he's much happier, smilier, gigglier when he gets to kick and squeal rather than snuggle with me.

Garrison LOVES rolling over. The only problem is that he rolls and rolls and rolls and rolls… he now rolls off the mat in about two seconds. He regularly rolls so many times that he spews, even if it's been over an hour since he ate. It's really fun. It's also kind of problematic because he now spends zero time on his tummy. He just rolls. We see a physical therapist for quarterly checkups. She has given us some exercises because Garrison is a little behind on head control and a little weak in his back muscles. Sometimes he looks like he has great head control, but most of the time, he drops his head and his chin rests on his chest. I was hoping these exercises would help, but I'm not seeing a huge improvement. I'm foreseeing some real PT appointments in our future soon. All because little over achiever wanted to roll before he learned to hold his head up.

I wanted to get the little man a gift when we finalized the adoption. Sam wouldn't let me haul it all the way to Florida, but we set it up when we got home. We got our physical therapist to sign off on an exercauser as long as he doesn't spend more than 30 minutes a day in it. Unfortunately the other rule is that he has to be able to stand flat footed… he's a good two inches from his tip toes touching. But I let him play in it for about five minutes because what good is a present that you can't enjoy?!? He LOVED it! I can't wait for him to get a little taller so he can enjoy his toy.

Mom, this is SO fun. I want to stay!

Dislikes: Garrison really dislikes the sun. He HATES when the sun comes through the back window of our Camry…mega scream. He also HATES red lights. Traveling in the car for longer than 15 minutes is definitely not his favorite, but when we stop? Oh.My.Gosh. SUPER serious drama. So you can imagine how our return from Jacksonville went. A car ride far outside of his 15 minute max, with bright sun, and lots of red lights. My ears are still bleeding.

Overall though, Garrison continues to become less fussy. He's definitely particular, and he lets you know if he feels unhappy about it. The fun thing is that he also lets you know if he really likes something too. The dislikes are easier to take when matched with BIG likes.

Looking forward to: Can life get any better than this? Seriously, I'm so freaking happy right now, it's disgusting. Who is this person!?!? He is everything I ever wanted and more and my heart just might explode from all the joy he brings. 

The more of these we string together, the more my heart just aches.
You don't notice the changes day by day, but five months worth?!?!

These last five months have been some of the happiest days of my life. They are hard; there's no doubt about that. And busy, oh my gosh, so busy. But I'm just so thankful. Garrison is the light of my life and the greatest gift. Every day is better with him in it.

We're the Lucky Ones

It's over. The wait is over. I have a son. He's mine just as if I'd birthed him from my own body. In the eyes of the law, he has the same rights and privileges (whatever those may be) just the same as any future children of ours, be they biological or not. Our adoption is official and final as of today. He is my son. I am his mom. The finalization hearing took place this morning, and now the four year process to start our family, and the five month process to finalize our adoption our both complete. With one signature on a piece of paper, it was over. Hallelujah.

It was a shockingly brief hearing this morning. I knew it would be. Everyone said it was incredibly anticlimactic. Our lawyer sent us documentation that the room had been reserved for a whopping ten minutes. We only had to answer seven questions, six of which were answered with a "yes." It was over so quickly, I barely had a chance to be emotional. The judge was an older gentleman and obviously ready to be on with his day. As I was planning my answer to "why are you petitioning the courts to finalize your adoption?" and the tears were starting to form, he signed the document and said, "well let's get this finalized for you." I sucked my answer back in and just held my sleeping baby. Yes sir, just sign that piece of paper. That's all I need. And just like that, in the eyes of the law, we're a family. It's what we've known and felt in our hearts for months. I can't explain exactly why it mattered for it to be "official." It's not like a thought of myself as his guardian, but there's something about someone recognizing us as a legitimate family, just the same as any other that brings tears to my eyes. It is good to be a family (officially).

When I think about this little boy, tears swim in my eyes. I love him so much I can hardly breathe. He's changing me, shaping me, molding me into a different person. He's refining my heart. Infertility chiseled big ugly sections of my heart free; Garrison is polishing it. He's softening my heart, showing me a new kind of love, stretching my faith, bringing clarity to my understanding of the Father's love. I've only known this little boy for 138 days, but they have been life altering of epic proportions. My heart is changing because of my love for Garrison. My dreams for my family, my perspective on infertility, my purpose in life…he's changing it all.

I know the comments are coming regarding our adoption. People will say, "Garrison is so lucky to have you." And I know what they mean when they say that. Everyone means well. They think Sam and I can give or offer more (financially, spiritually, emotionally, physically) than Garrison's birth family. He's lucky to have us rather than what could have been... that's what people mean when they say these types of things. I'm sure I've said similar things in the past to others. I'm not here to comment on the circumstances surrounding Garrison's birth or placement into our family. That's his story to learn first and tell if he so chooses. But I am here to say this, it's not him, but us that are the lucky ones. Sam and I, we're the lucky ones.

I don't understand the way God works. Why infertility had to be a part of my very young family. Why Garrison's birth family had the difficulties and circumstances that they did. I can't explain why one couple gets pregnant and another doesn't…all of these are questions that I just don't have answers to. I can't explain why Sam and I lived through the years of pain that we did, nor why Garrison has already experienced the greatest loss. But I can tell you this, I can't imagine my life without him. He is without a doubt the greatest thing that has ever happened to us. I can also tell you this: it didn't have to end this way. We could still be waiting. Trying IVF. Hoping for a lucky cycle. Waiting for a match. Picking up the pieces from a failed adoption. Instead we're lying in bed with our sleeping son knowing that we are so fortunate to have him. And not just any son, but this son. Our son. So yes, Garrison is fortunate. Things could have gone differently. We're thankful his birth family loved him and chose life and a future for him. But I can guarantee that Garrison will change far more about Sam and I than we will ever change about him. It's not him, but us, Sam and I, that are the lucky ones.

Welcome to the family, Garrison Greavu, forever our firstborn. We're so thankful for you and can't imagine one day of life without you in it. We love you to the moon and back (and back again).

Fussy Butt

Sunday was rough. One of those days where my ears actually hurt and I craved silence (and a nice margarita). As I sat there debating what decibel range I was actually experiencing, it hit me: it's been a while since we've had one of those days. Praise the Lord.

You see, Garrison is what you might call a fussy baby. He comes by his nickname honestly. I typically describe him as "sensitive" because it sounds less like I'm complaining. Garrison was such a sweet little thing in the hospital. He rarely cried during those few days I was with him in the NICU. He basically slept in two or two and a half hour stretches. His only time awake was to eat. He'd often fall asleep eating. My biggest worry in the NICU (besides why is that blasted alarm going off again) was how to get 40 mL into his little mouth. And then we were discharged and everything changed. I had no idea what a change in environment and additional stimulation could do to a baby. We were discharged around 6 o'clock that Thursday evening. By 9 o'clock, I had a different baby. He screamed, and screamed, and screamed, and screamed.

By midnight that night I'd already called the NICU because I was sure something terrible was wrong. He had to be dying to scream like that. They assured me that this was "normal" for adjusting to the outside world. It's like being born all over again, this time into the real world. They encouraged me that things would settle in a few days, just as soon as he could acclimate. But they didn't. I entered into some of the longest weeks.

I didn't really share much about that time with anyone. I was too afraid to share what I was experiencing for fear of sounding ungrateful for the gift I'd been given (and that I'd asked for for so long). I was also afraid I'd be judged as a terrible parent. I was the first to admit that I was out of my league, treading water, rather than swimming with power strokes, but I was terrified that others would look at this red-faced, screaming infant and wonder what kind of unfit mother was I that I couldn't even quiet my baby. There were times when I was actually afraid to go in public with him for fear that somehow, someway, it would get back to the courts and they'd take him away. It was that bad.

I felt those things, but the good news is that I don't feel those things anymore, or at least much less frequently. So I wanted to share this for the mother who is currently neck deep and not sure if she's going to reach the shore. Or for those who will experience similar things with their miracles that are coming one day. Think of this as a fist bump, a "solidarity, sister," and a hug. I've been there. It gets better.

As I mentioned, the first night we arrived in the hotel with Garrison was a rude awakening to what the next few months of life would be like. He was inconsolable. I'd blame it on being an utter novice with no clue what to do, except that my mom couldn't console him either. We left the hospital with a different formula (hey hospitals, can we maybe start that process while at the hospital? A slow transition?!?!?) and by the second feed he was gassy and refusing the bottle while at the same time desperate to eat. We kept the hotel room very dark as the NICU was semi-lit to dark most of the day. I did everything I could think of to eliminate stimulation, but nothing seemed to work. He went from a  baby that was lying quitely in a bassinet undisturbed most of the day, to a baby that would scream (we're talking fire alarm level) if I even thought about putting him down. But holding him often only quieted the crying to a desperate shrieking.

What I prayed was just acclimation to a new room and a new formula became the pattern of my days. Garrison cried more than he slept. Many parents experience "the witching hour," that late afternoon to early evening time when babies can become extremely fussy. Garrison's "witching hour" usually began about 9 or 10 in the morning and lasted until 10 to 12 at night. Many of the various parenting books discuss how important a sleep/wake cycle is, but I was honestly desperate for him to sleep during the day, just so he'd stop screaming. He only slept in my arms, and even then, it was restless. If I put him down for a nap, he'd be awake and screaming at full volume within ten minutes.

I mentioned that I read The Happiest Baby on the Block. I was so thankful for the book in many ways. It validated some of the things that I was experiencing and feeling. It also taught me soothing techniques and ways to combine them that we desperately clung to. But I also felt like crap while reading it because here was this book, all but promising a happy baby, and mine seemed like the saddest baby on the block. I frantically read Happiest Baby hoping that somewhere there was a key to unlock the happy baby from inside this very unhappy baby before me. My problem was that the author's testimonials always said how quickly the 5 Ss (Shhhing, Swaddling, Sucking, Side/Stomach, Swinging) worked, but for us, they did not instantly release the natural calming reflex that these parents experienced. Hours of shhing on top of white noise (or the vaccum or the tub faucet) and swinging and sucking while being tightly swaddled like a burrito sometimes did absolutely nothing. Most of the time it eventually worked, but I'd bet Garrison can go toe to toe for the longest hold out before giving into the 5 Ss' soothing ways.

I'm pretty sure I will remember until my dying day the day that Garrison cried from 12:30 until 10:00. It was almost completely nonstop. He screamed through his bottles. He even cried and moaned while sleeping. No fever, no rash, no vomit, no diarrhea... nothing that could explain his behavior. That day was torture. But unfortunately, it wasn't all that different from a lot of other days. Weeks 2-8 were pretty bad in all honesty. I felt like the absolute worst mother. A complete and total failure. I questioned my ability to parent. I wondered if he hated me. I worried that this was doing irreparable damage to our ability to bond. I had hundreds of thoughts pour through my head each day about infertility. It was hard to silence the voices that said infertility had been God's way of preventing me from becoming a mother because I was obviously terrible.

When others told me of their successes with some technique, it only made me feel worse. So your baby is sleeping 8 hours by 8 weeks, well cool, I'm trying to get mine to stop crying for 8 consecutive minutes. And the absolute worst was to be around someone I had confided a bit about my fussy baby. Inevitably he'd be peacefully sleeping at that particular time and I'd hear what a happy, sweet, good baby he was. Those comments made me feel even more terrible. He obviously only hated me. It was me and not him.

I know many people probably read this and think, "oh well, you didn't try X." We tried five different bottles (landed on Dr. Brown's), seven different nipples (ended up with Dr. B's preemie), five different swaddles/swaddle blankets (he specifically liked Halo, in fleece), six different pacifiers (landed on the Soothie). We tried gripe water, gas drops, Happi Tummi, clockwise belly rubs, and bicycle kicks. We tried prescription gas medication and eventually received a prescription for reflux. But here's the thing, even with Dr. Brown's promises of less gas, reflux, and colic, prescription medications for gas and reflux, and all of the 5Ss at our disposal, Garrison (and mommy) still cried. If I could get Garrison to eat without screaming I considered it a win. If I could quiet him in 15 minutes or less, I considered that a victory. Those weeks were hard.

I was finally coming to see the writing on the wall. These infant days were just not going to be fun. I could enjoy my snuggles when he was sound asleep, but I'd spend his waking minutes trying to calm him and soothe whatever was bothering him. And then slowly, ever so slowly things began to change. Around 8 weeks, he began to naturally fall back into his rhythm from his days in the NICU. He began to eat every three hours again, and I became more aware and intentional about a scheduled feeding and nap in between each feeding. Around 10 weeks (right when maternity leave ended) was the first time I thought things might be getting better. By 12 weeks, I was sure, he was definitely less fussy, it wasn't just a string of good days. Things were actually getting better. By 14 weeks, things were so much different. He still fussed far more than other babies, but we could play together. There were minutes I'd describe him as happy, and they might even outweigh the minutes I'd say he was sad/angry/frustrated.

Every week things have gotten a bit better. He'll be twenty weeks tomorrow, and the difference the last 6-8 weeks have made is astounding. He's still not what I'd call a happy baby. You can look at him the wrong way and set off a good, long bout of crying. Like I said, he's sensitive. A lot of things bother Garrison, and when something is bothering him, he lets you know. I've resolved myself to this fact. Garrison will probably never be an easy baby. Or like my friend Jennie says, some babies are just "spirited." They're either very happy or very unhappy - there is no in between. That's him. But I think the good news might be that what he loves, he will love fiercely, and I think despite our rough start, he just might love his mama. 

I know that a fussy baby would be a dream come true for a lot of you. Believe me, even in the thick of it, I didn't (and don't) take my miracle for granted. I'm not complaining. I just wanted to be honest about what I experienced. When other moms opened up to me and shared similar experiences I felt so much comfort and gratitude. So like I said, if that's you, if you're in the thick of it, if you're question whether you were meant to be a mother, it does get better. Hang in there.