I went to the OB/GYN close to a month ago and asked my doctor if he could possibly do a super quick ultrasound at the end of my appointment to see if we were headed toward more pink or a switch to blue when the baby arrives in April.  I was around 16 weeks so it wasn’t really time for an ultrasound.  However, my super rockin’ doctor consented (and yes he would still be an awesome doc even if he didn’t do the ultrasound).

It was wonderful to see baby Murray number two!  Sweet little toes and fingers, wiggly arms and kicking feet, and of course the sweet little profile.  However, the baby was extraordinarily shy or stubborn.  The doctor said if he had to guess he thought the baby was a little girl, but he wouldn’t put money on it.   Ben and I go back to the doctor December 1st; I will be 20.5 weeks.  Before Mary James’ “gender ultrasound” I had orange juice and Raisin Bran and she was quite the little wiggly worm.  Hopefully, this menu will please baby number two as well.

I started feeling the baby move in my belly around a couple of weeks ago.  November 16 to be exact.  My family has a thing about writing down the day you first feel the baby move and then counting forward 20 weeks.  Supposedly, the baby will be born within 10 days of the date, April 5th in my case.  This actually worked with Mary James she was exactly two weeks early!

The “20 weeks” due date theory I believe came from when my great-grandmother Sally was having children.  When she was having kids in the late 1920′s-30′s there wasn’t a hospital in our area, much less a medical clinic.  A traveling doctor would come by to check on you instead.  He told her to write down when she first felt the baby move and then he would count forward 20 weeks and he would try to be back in the area around that date.

Hopefully, we will know pink or blue this Tuesday and see if the due date is remaining the same!  Then we can really buckle down on the names…

Months that is.  I cannot believe my baby is eleven months old today.  …..  Which inevitably means she’ll be a year old next month.  Crazy mad math skills here, huh?  My algebra teacher would be so proud.

But seriously, I actually got teary eyed when I realized that today was the 28th.  And don’t get me wrong I am so unbelievably thankful that Mary James is healthy, growing normally and happy.  Period.  What blessings God has given us.

Back to the growing up part…  Watching her cruise around, pet the cats, giggle, raise the lid to the toilet (yeah that’s a new trick!), I can’t fathom that a WHOLE year has almost passed.  Is there some unwritten rule?  Time must rapidly pass by when a baby enters the picture?

There must be a switch in heaven that flips time to lightening speed the second the umbilical cord is cut.  And yeah I’m sure it has to do with how busy you are with a baby.  However, I was pull-your-hair out crazy busy in vet school but that didn’t seem to blow by at the speed of light.  What gives?

I’m going to be a blubbering mess when she enters kindergarten.  My poor child. 

Look for a photo and maybe video montage for Mary James’ first birthday next month.

As a new mom, sometimes it seems like each milestone brings me back to the unknown.  I know babies are supposed to crawl, and then cruise and walk.  My daughter had been trying a few days to crawl, started crawling and then immediately started pulling up on EVERYTHING.  And even trying to climb things.  Don’t get me wrong I not complaining at all.  I’m thrilled!!!

But, I also feel like I don’t have a clue as to what I’m doing.  Again.  Welcome to Motherhood, right?  I can be sitting next to, holding on to her, and she still manages to bump her head?!?  My mother-in-law was like “Honey, just wait, until she comes in with a skinned knee.”  Wait, she’s going to get HURT?  Really, I knew this would happen, just not how I would feel.  So, I’ve pretty much been non-existent on my blog in the past week trying to readjust to my role as the mother to a newly mobile little girl.

And thanking God for the blessing He’s given me!

Want more Wordless fun?

Check out Wordless Wednesday or 5 Minutes for Mom!

This post is for my family who are far away and won’t get to see Mary James crawling.  So without further adieu….

Crawling Cutie from Erin Murray on Vimeo.

Today is my first “official” Mother’s Day.  Sure, I was pregnant last year, and not that it didn’t count…but it just feels more real today.

Our plans for today, included teaching our Sunday school class (2-3 year olds), going to big church, and then going to a Mother’s day buffet with all fourteen of us!  Even more fun – my parents were going to join us at our church.

Well…

My very bad, no good, horrible ear genes have descended on my precious daughter.  Again Mary James I’m so sorry to have bestowed my narrow ear canals and propensity for ear infections.

At her last ear recheck, about a week ago, the doctor noted some fluid in her right ear.  I was instructed to “watch her like a hawk” for any signs of an ear infection and to call immediately if a fever appears.  Well, yesterday morning I noticed Mary James seemed toasty (although I have been taking her temperature anytime she seemed remotely warm so I assumed I was probably over reacting again).  Turns out she had a fever of 102.6 F!  Waaaa!

I called the pediatrician office, knowing full well it was a Saturday and that they couldn’t see her… but he said CALL! So I did.  The doctor who returned the call (not actually my ped but one of his partners) listened to me explain what was going on, then asked me where I lived.  I told her and she said to bring MJ to the office so she could take a look at her ears.

It’s times like these that I LOVE living in a small town!!

After her examination, it was determined Mary James had the beginnings of an ear infection in her left ear.  This is ear infection number FOUR and we’re only at eight months.  Seriously genes…you suck! So another round of antibiotics was started, and of course non-steroidals for the pain and fever.

Speaking of fever…after we saw the doctor MJ spiked a whopping 103.1 F fever.  Hello?  Tylenol?  Yeah, could you start working a little harder? Seeing the thermometer register 103 F for my 8 month old stopped my heart for a second.  I know fevers are helpful (they help fight off bacterial infections) but they have a very high freaky factor in my book.  And um…evidently you are supposed to call the doctor for a temperature of 103 F (or above).  How did I miss that? Thank goodness my brother-in-law is a human doctor and our friend.

Mary James slept fairly well last night and had a great appetite this morning.  The fever has been running close to 102 F this morning, but no higher (thank you God).  Thus, MJ and I stayed home and daddy went to church.

It’s truly fitting.  Today on my first Mother’s Day, I am mothering.

I was at Target last week perusing the baby aisles, and saw this sign:

NATURAL FEEDING

Umm…what?  As in breastfeeding?  Or nursing?

I guess Target assumes the public would be quite mortified/embarassed/uncomfortable/shocked to see a sign that said BREASTFEEDING supplies.  Kind of the same shocked look when people realize I’m still breastfeeding my eight month old daughter.

Why does breastfeeding make some people SO uncomfortable?

My darling daughter, I cannot believe you will be eight months old today.  You have been on this earth for seventy-five percent of a year!!  As I type, you are sitting (unassisted) next to me in bed playing with a book and the television remote.  Oh the irony.

You have changed so dramatically since you were born.  From a sleepy, quiet newborn to an inquisitive, bubbly baby.

Again, I don’t want to forget how you are changing so I’m documenting it.  Possibly boring to others, but I want to remember.

My loves:

* You giggle when I giggle.

* You say “Ba ba ba” “Da da da” and “Di di di” (you especially like di di di when you are upset)

* You can wave and clap.  You have been waving since you were seven months old!

* You LOVE the kitties and the doggies.

* You can pincer grip your cheerios.

* You grunt happily when you are eating something you like.

* Bath-time is one of your favorite times of the day.

* You grin at people, and then bury your face into my shoulder.

* You’re trying to crawl, and get quite upset when you don’t move…and a rolling you go!

* You love buttons (laptop keyboard, remotes, calculators).

I love you my sweet girl.

Umm…you have to expand the video to see it (pres the button with the four blue arrows). ?!?!?!?!  As my “tech support” is snoring, I suppose it will stay this way until tomorrow.  Sorry.

Oh, and the quality isn’t the best, but the video camera wasn’t nearby.

7.5 months from Erin Murray on Vimeo.

Many nights, before I head to bed, I go into my daughter’s nursery to check on her.  I give her a kiss and say a prayer thanking God for this wonderful gift.  Ben and I still can’t believe what a blessing we have been given.

Often I want to snuggle my sweet, sleeping angel.  I have truly looked at the crib and wondered, “Will it hold me too?”  Especially the nights/early mornings when she’s crying but not truly awake.

Not to mention ALL the stupid informative baby books that say you shouldn’t pick up your baby if they wake up from sleep (this is only after you’ve checked to ensure they aren’t sick or hurt).  It’s this time that I especially want to crawl over the railings.

That way I’m not technically picking her up from the crib, I’m holding her “in the crib.”  Okay, so I might be taking things a little too far.

And on the whole “not picking up a crying baby at night while they’re sleeping in the crib” bit.  Well, I think this works on some occasions.  And by all means I don’t think you should pick up your child for every whimper at nighttime.

But come on.  Babies are only itty bitty for such a short time.  So I say pick them up, kiss them, snuggle them, LOVE them with every ounce of your being!  FORGET “crying it out.”

I know when she graduates from high school her perfect sleep schedule will not be a favorite memory.  Who cares?

These are things I want to remember about her sleepy time…

Her downy soft, sweet smelling hair.  Her long, dark eyelashes.  Her chubby cheeks.  Her baby soft skin.  Her little sighs.  The smiles that grace her face as she sleeps.  The slow, rythmic whispers of her breathing.

Tomorrow I leave my baby girl for the first time since she’s been born.

As I write, tears fill my eyes and slowly roll down my cheeks.  I can feel the sobs building deep in my chest.

Yes, this is only a part-time job.  Yes, it’s only three days a week, seven hours each day.  But it is time away from my precious baby who is growing so fast.  So quickly, that often I feel desperate to capture every smile, every move, every sound on camera and video before she changes.

From talking to other moms (including my precious momma), I know the emotions are normal.  Normal maybe.  Enjoyable?  Definitely not.

Before Mary James was born, I was not the emotional type.  Sure I cried if I was angry or really upset, but my emotions never came falling in the form of tears.  My family is not a teary bunch.  My husband was the tearful one in our family.  Shocking really, he’s a big “tough”guy on the outside.  Huh…crunchy on the outside with a sweet, soft center.

Well, move over buddy.  Momma Murray is in the house.

At first, I attributed the crying to my hormones.  I’m sure they are still settling after the pregnancy, but this is different.  This is pure unadulterated love.

I know Mary James will be in a wonderful hands with a sweet couple from church.  Not to mention she will be with her cousins some days.  So, my tears are not from fear of harm.

My tears are from fear of what I will be missing.

I’ve heard from many others, and even read a funny blog post or two about that diaper.  You know, the one that explodes, ends up in every crevice possible, and all over anything in close proximity.  And yeah I’m talking about poop.  Gross yes, but really people, poop can be funny.

Today was the day.

We went for MJ’s four month well visit with the dreaded vaccines.  Nothing like watching someone inflict pain on your child to start off the day.  Waaa!

I asked her pediatrician about the lack of poop for a good solid day.  I mean, not that I was complaining.  Anyone who has a kid in diapers would love a poop-free day.  He said the lack of poopage was perfectly normal, especially in breastfed babies.  And no the doc did not say “poopage”, although I wouldn’t put it past him.  He has a great personality.  He grew up on farm and last time we joked about the poor cows who get the crap knocked out of their udders while their little ones feed.  Yeah.

Well, it started as I was feeding her lunch.  I could hear the rumbles and productivity of a happy gastrointestinal tract (okay, happy guts).  And feel the growing weight of the diaper as it expanded  precariously.  With every toot I wondered if it was going to hold.  I mean the dams gotta break sometime.

As I was taking her to the changing table, my mother-in-law called to check on her well visit.  Mary James’ bowels seized my moment of hesitation.

The mother load arrived.

It was so shockingly loud, that I actually checked to see if I was covered by the explosion.  All I can say is thank goodness it’s wintertime and she had on pants.

Since I was on the phone, my brain was on auto-pilot and I started to change the diaper like I normally would.  Like it was a normal diaper.  At this point, I now had one hand on the baby, one hand covered in goo and the phone wedged between my ear and shoulder.  Smooth.  Real smooth.

Mary James was as happy as a clam.  She kept giggling and cooing as she kicked her little legs, and poo continued to go EVERYWHERE.  Poo and mustard share a common bond, at least in my life.  Mustard manages to get on my elbows or strange places, like the back of my knee.  I don’t know how it got there, or how long its been there.  Now imagine the mustard as poo.

After six baby wipes (and I’m someone who tries to use every inch of a wipe), I decided a bath was definitely in our future.

I’ve learned alot today.  Baby pants are freakin’ awesome.  Pampers have a limit.   Never try to change a crazy full diaper while on the phone with your mother-in-law.  And most importantly, beware the day with no poo.