and then there were two under two

Being a parent is not for the faint of heart. I don’t care how many kids you have, how far apart they are, whether they are special needs or typically developing, or how old you are, parenting is hard freaking work. I’m certain that social media does us no favors, as we are constantly seeing other peoples’ highlight reels, comparing our lives, our kids, ourselves, and how we parent, to each other. The pressure is on, and most of that pressure is put on by none other than ourselves.

I’m a pretty independent girl. I think some of that has to do with losing my mom when I was 14. I think some of it has to do with being an introvert. I lived on my own from the time I was 18 until I got married at 22. I did what I want when I wanted. Shane and I were dating/engaged during that time, but he worked, I worked, and we were both in school. We hung out when we had time, but we both were pretty busy on our own. Then he moved away for a ministry position a year before we got married. I was in school, student teaching and super busy. I had no issue driving 4 hours by myself to see him on weekends when I was able, I just packed up and went. So…short story long, I can do things on my own. Sure, I’d RATHER have Shane with me, he’s my better half and honestly, we make a really good team, especially when it comes to parenting. But when it was just Nehem, it was no big deal for me to run somewhere on my own. I just threw Nehem in the car and off we went. Shane being on trips, or at work, or wherever never really affected if I went somewhere or not. It also helped that Nehem loves the car.

Honestly, until April 29 of this year, I really thought I was rocking this whole mom thing. I had a kid that was cute, sweet, he’s always slept, he’s always gone with the flow. Sure, we had a rough first month with 3 surgeries and hospital stays, but after that we just threw him in the car seat or stroller and he came along for the ride. We’ve taken him to restaurants, youth trips, church, wherever, whenever, he didn’t care. He let anyone hold him, anyone could feed him. As long as he got fed, he was content. Because Nehem was a NICU baby, he was never told that overstimulation was a thing. He slept with lights on, hooked up to monitors and IV’s, there was beeping, chatting, babies crying, and all kinds of noises—since day 1. He’s not a super deep sleeper now, but when he was a baby he could pretty much fall asleep anywhere (see below). He’d get tired, and he’d fall asleep. He might fuss a tiny bit…but I remember people saying “He just fell asleep? He didn’t even fuss?” And I was like…”you mean that’s not normal?”

Becoming parents totally changed our lives, but it didn’t completely disrupt our lives as we knew them. We kept doing what we had been doing, just with the cutest third wheel.

…and then there were two…

Our sweet, beautiful Mary-Catherine is a different story. She was tiny at birth, so she had to eat every 3 hours whether she woke up or not, until she got back up to birth weight. We were up every three hours for the first few weeks. I was trying to nurse, but we were having to supplement and it was rough. She didn’t want to sleep unless she was being held, and she cried…oh, did she cry…sometimes for hours. What was wrong? I’m still not sure. I had never felt exhaustion like that before. I felt like a first-time mom all over again.

 The sleeping thing has definitely improved, and she’s become a better sleeper at night. But she is not the go-with-the-flow-baby that Nehem was (and still pretty much is). She likes to be held a certain way, she likes to be swaddled a certain way, she loves her paci (sometimes), sometimes she loves her bottom patted at a certain tempo, defined only by her in that moment, and you better sway at the right speed—not too fast and not too slow, please and thank you.. Ok, I’m kind of exaggerating, but not totally. She’s just needier than Nehem, and while that’s totally fine; I knew I would never have TWO perfect children, it has really disrupted my independence.

Oh, and overstimulation is a real thing I'm learning about right now. MC needs dark, and quiet, something that was a foreign concept to Nehem.

Having two kids under two is a challenge all on its own. Having two IMMOBILE kids under two, is hard, ya’ll. It’s really hard. Just getting them in and out of the car on my own takes some work. I have to decide who goes in the car first, who goes in the shopping cart first, who’s easier to kidnap (yes that’s totally a thought when I’m by myself, and I’m not the only mom who has that thought so leave me alone). I have to decide if I need both diaper bags or if I have what I need in the one. If I’m at a store that doesn’t have cart returns in the parking lot, I have to break out the stroller for Nehem and wear MC. If I’m at a store with cart returns, I always try to find a spot right by the cart return so I can easily retrieve and return my shopping cart because I’m not about to be that mom that leaves her cart in the middle of the parking lot. I aint doin’ it, ok?

There’s just a lot more work that goes into taking 2 immobile kids out. When I have Shane with me, it’s no big deal, like I said, we make a great team and we each have unspoken jobs and we get it done. But Shane can’t ALWAYS be with me, and sometimes I need to do the things. But this little girl has disrupted my life. Sure, she’s disrupted it in the best kind of way. I wouldn’t trade her for the world. But I was unprepared for the independence I was going to lose when I had a Special Needs kid plus an infant. Just so we’re clear (and surely this goes without saying), I’m not the least bit upset at Nehem that he can’t walk. He’s amazing. Whether he never walks, or he someday runs. He’s perfect and walking is not the end-all-be-all for us. Independence is. So, there’s that.

But having two under two has changed me. It’s made me more dependent on others--which I hate. And it’s made me much, much more dependent on Christ. When I’m on a rare outing with my two alone, I’m praying for safety, for good attitudes (mostly from me), for patience (for me and for Nehem because toddlers, ya’ll), for endurance (southern humidity is NOT my friend), and for a sense of peace and calm. Something about having them both out alone makes me anxious. Especially with MC’s random crying fits.

Honestly, I’m not sure what the point of this post is, other than writing is soothing and this has been something on my mind. This transition has been anything but easy, and if you see me drinking a Venti Iced Coffee with unwashed hair and no make-up, while Nehem eats whipped cream from a Starbucks cup, don’t judge me. One day we'll get into a rhythm. Just know that getting out of the house with two under two is a lot of dang work right now.

One Week

Warning: This is pretty long, mostly because I don’t want to forget the little ways that God worked in this big situation.

If we’re friends on any social media, you know that we welcomed Mary-Catherine Mae into our family on Monday. However, if we’ve talked in person recently, you know I have had her birthdate picked out for several months now. My doctor said from the beginning that I would deliver at 37 weeks, which was April 29. I had a training for school on April 30 and May 1, so I looked at my calendar in January (maybe earlier) and chose her birthday—May 2. My doctor agreed. The c-section was scheduled, we were going to arrive at 5:30am on May 2. We had family lined up to keep Nehem, my sister was going to stay with me at the hospital (I wanted Shane to sleep at home at night, just to keep a little normalcy for Nehem before we flipped his world upside down).

My sub plans had been done for about a week, my IEP’s were all written. As much end-of-the year stuff as I could do, had been done. By the Friday before I was supposed to go on maternity leave. I’m a self-proclaimed procrastinator. I am NOT one to have everything done ahead of time. I’m usually working up until the last second literally. I’ve always been that way (no I’m not saying it’s ok, I’m just saying it’s the way it is)

I had chosen a specific hospital in the area because I wanted the “small hospital” feel, that I didn’t get with Nehem since Vanderbilt is so big. (I had incredible care at Vandy, but it’s a big place)

I had it all planned out. But God.

So, let me rewind just a bit. I had a terrible “cold” throughout my entire pregnancy. Coughs, sniffles, occasional wheezing, the whole 9 yards. I went through several rounds of steroids, an inhaler, was told I had pregnancy induced asthma, I was diagnosed with bronchitis, and I had just decided I was allergic to being pregnant. which I’m still not denying

On the Friday before MC was born, I had a terrible tickle in my throat all day long. I could not get it to go away. I coughed and cleared my throat and drank water and did everything I could think of. It’s April in Alabama and allergies are terrible. Plus I was swollen and 36 (almost 37) week pregnant. I was fine. By Saturday morning, I was wheezing pretty heavily, but we were at a church event out of town, so I used my inhaler a little and did what I needed to do to get through the event. By the time I got home with Nehem (Shane and I arrived home separately), I brought Nehem in the house, put him in babyjail and laid down on the couch with my inhaler. I just thought I was tired and allergies had gotten the best of me. I just needed to rest for a little while.

Until Shane got home and took one look at me and told me to call my doctor.

I called, and they didn’t even wait for the on-call doc to call me back. They told me to get to the OB Emergency Room as soon as I could. We threw Nehem back in the van and Shane got me to the hospital. By the time I arrived, I had been able to catch my breath, but when I got up to the ER I was wheezing and short of breath again. They took me into a room pretty quickly and got me hooked up to all of the things. My heart rate was 130-ish, my oxygen was 90 and below (100 is perfect), and MC was so low they couldn’t find her heartbeat. Needless to say, it was quite a dramatic few minutes. There were 2 nurses, a Nurse Practitioner, and maybe a doctor in my room trying to calm me and find MC. They finally found her, and got me on oxygen to get my vitals back up. After an x-ray, breathing treatment, and whatever else they gave me, they had ruled out pneumonia (and a blood clot), but told me I was probably not going home that night.

I laid in my hospital bed on the verge of tears. THIS WAS NOT THE PLAN. SHANE WAS MAKING ARRANGEMENTS FOR NEHEM AND GETTING MY BAG PACKED (for a one night hospital stay) AND ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT WAS MY TRAINING, AND THAT HER BIRTHDAY WAS GONNA BE IN THE WRONG MONTH, AND HOW MY HOUSE WAS A WRECK, AND I HAD DISHES IN THE SINK, AND I NEEDED TO GO HOME BEFORE THIS BABY WAS BORN BECAUSE THERE WAS SO MUCH I STILL NEEDED TO GET DONE. NOT TO MENTION WORK. I COULDN’T MISS WORK. I HAD ALREADY PLANNED EVERYTHING OUT! I WAS A MESS.

I stayed in the hospital on Saturday night, and on Sunday, a doctor from my practice came around and said I probably would not be leaving the hospital without a baby, and if I did, I would be instructed to go home and rest. I would not be returning to work. Also, they would probably be taking her earlier than Thursday. Ugh.

Sure, I was happy to meet my daughter, but I’m really a control freak and really wanted to stick with my original plan. It was all worked out.

By Sunday evening, I had confirmation that, depending on my breathing over night, I was on the schedule for a c-section the next morning. So I talked to Shane and sent him an ever-growing packing list to make sure I had every little thing that I needed. And let me tell you, he delivered. And then some.

 So on Monday morning, they started prepping me for surgery. By 9:18am she was born. My first words were “she’s so tiny!!!!” and she was. 5lbs, 15oz, 18 inches long My doctor was so sweet, after showing me her sweet face, she turned her around so I could see her back to show me that it was perfect (no Spina Bifida markings). After a few minutes of snuggles, Shane and MC went to recovery while they finished my surgery.

When I got to recovery, they told me that MC was struggling a little to breathe (common in c-section babies) and they were working on her in the nursery. I was so loopy I’m not even sure how much I cared.

I started getting a little wheezy, and even though all of my vitals were perfect, I couldn’t breathe, and I couldn’t stop coughing side note: coughing after a c-section:0/10 do not recommend. They ordered an immediate breathing treatment for me, and by the time I got that under control, I started vomiting. So that was fun.

They called Shane down when I started to struggle, and even though he didn’t want to leave MC, he got back down to me and tried really hard to take my mind off of what was going on. It didn’t work, but that had nothing to do with him. He also told me that MC was stable, she just had a lot of fluid in her lungs that she needed a little assistance with. They got it all out and she was breathing fine, they just wanted to watch her for a little bit to make sure.

I finally got back to my room, Shane brought in Nehem, and before too long, Mary-Catherine was with us too. We spent some time as a family unit, and then family started arriving to meet MC.

They kept me in the antepartum unit so they could keep an eye on my breathing, and I’m so thankful they did. I had the absolute BEST nurses. At the hospital in which I wasn’t even supposed to be. Four days before I was supposed to deliver. Coincidence? Probably not.

When my doctor came in for rounds the next morning, she started telling me about some concerns she had about my uterus and thinks that because of my first classical c-section, my placenta may not have attached as well as it should, and MC may have had some grow restriction explaining why she was so tiny. None of this could have been detected on an ultrasound, and according to my ultrasound the week before she was estimated 6lbs, 5oz. My doctor said it was good that we went ahead and took her, even if it was only a few days early. Coincidence? Probably not.

Mary-Catherine is now a week old, and we are slowly working to find out new normal in the Perry house. Everyone’s first question is “What does Nehem think of her?!” Well…Nehem couldn’t care less. When we first got home, he wouldn’t even look at her. Now he will look at her, but more of a “what the heck is that thing you’re holding, Mom, and what do I have to do to make it go away?” I know he’ll come around. I know he’s young. We’re not pushing anything, and we're doing everything we can to make him feel extra special.

Day 1 of being home

Reunited and it feels so good!

Day 3. I call this "progress"

I’m healing from a second classical c-section slowly but surely, so the hardest thing is that I can’t lift Nehem. This weekend is District Assembly for out district (for you non-Nazarenes, that where we have all of our important business meetings of the year for the entire district), and there are parts of those meetings that Shane can’t miss. I’m so thankful for my sister and mother-in-law who have stepped up and helped us in so many ways.

It takes a village (and sometimes more), ya’ll.

Oh, I should also mention that everyone in my house got some sort of stomach bug the day after MC was born, so Shane and his mom had to completely bleach the house before we came home…which was awesome.

It’s been a whirlwind of a week, from start to finish. But I am so thankful for the way things worked out, even in the hard moments, God knew what He was doing. 

Just like He always, always, always does.