With all the changes in our world, we have been discussing the idea of contraception. When Addison first arrived I told Garrett to schedule a vasectomy before he even thought about touching me. He’d say he wanted another one, I’d say no. Then he’d wake up at three in the morning for a feeding. The next morning I would say I wanted another one, and he’d say no. We flipped and flopped and had a pregnancy scare and then decided maybe we needed to talk about what we really wanted, before nature chose for us.

So Garrett, in all his brilliance, came up with this plan (which I like a lot): No contraception. Just breastfeeding. The side effects of contraception on my reproductive history as well as my anxiety are unfavorable. We didn’t want the risks that I would have to take with all my medical history and Garrett wasn’t ready to accept a vasectomy at 24 years of age.

If we do not get pregnant by the time I stop breastfeeding (about two years) then we are going to fix break Garrett’s man-plumbing.  I don’t know if this plan is very in favor of a third, since I had to have fertility treatments to push the Addison Ova out, but I guess we will see.

I think it is the excessive sun I am getting … but I have never been this loosey goosey with life planning. I don’t like the unplanned, unscheduled, unorganized (when it comes to my body). In both instances with Isaiah and Addison I already had their names picked out BEFORE I knew what/who they were. I always knew I’d have two children, some way somehow. So if I get pregnant a third time- I may not even find out the gender. I may let Garrett name it Alexander Magnus Kopter Pilot the 3rd.  I am just feeling that adventurous about life!

So maybe we’ll have a baby or maybe we won’t. Guess we’ll leave it up to nature

I had this whole post fleshed out about how I felt about my baby (who is no longer my baby) turning THREE soon…. but then I deleted it. I deleted it because it was all disconnected and I couldn’t form a good sentence, which only demonstrates how shaken I am that he will actually be THREE! Where did the time go?

I will write more about the experience later but for now that’s all. Its hard to type with just one hand so I leave you with this.

L-O-V-E means watching DUMB movies like this. I mean, Jeremy Piven would, I am sure, prefer to get mercury poisoning again than admit that he made this film. This is right up there with Glitter (sorry Mariah). So while I sit here trying to distract myself from this movie I post blog posts like this.

I must really love my husband.

Turns out. I do.

I once had a friend who was so in love with this girl that she was with she went to a StarWars convention dressed as an Ewok. I had another friend who took a month of French to say a couple of sentences to an exchange student. I mean, with Garrett, I didn’t convert to another religion or do anything else extreme- but I DO find myself having to watch mind-numbing movies and listening to way more Creed than I would otherwise listen to. But I love him.

So I sigh and stare at him with goo goo eyes as he laughs like a hyena at Ving Raines attempting to resuscitate an already VERY dead acting career.

What do you do for love?

If you welcome the second child with the admonition, “welcome, jewel of a baby, for I know all the secrets to motherhood and you don’t frighten me…” you’ll be wrong. I was wrong. I was SO wrong.

Every baby is different (as well as every pregnancy). And pride? It cometh before the FALL. That fall is the one where you burst into tears crying, “what did I eat that is making her scream in pain!!!!!!”

Addison is tongue tied. Not only do I not know how to deal with this medical issue, but I have never ever HEARD of it. Turns out it is more than an expression. Tongue tied babies have a very hard time latching and all that jazz. So now I have to figure out what to do about her tongue. I could get it clipped (OUCHIES!) or suffer through her poor latching, air sucking breastfeeding… In spite of her poor tongue, Addison is doing well. She is gaining weight and nursing like a champ- she just sucks a bunch of air and then farts like a man (a very large man that has eaten too many bean burritos) and occasionally screams because her poor belly is full of air.

So I don’t know if I should  get her frenulum clipped….

Does anyone have any experience with this?

There is nothing quite like being best friends with someone who is 6 weeks more pregnant than you. The entire experience just seems very unfair.

I mean, we had about 2 weeks there in the beginning when we were both all barfy and heartburny, but then Jasmine was done with it and I still had a solid 4 weeks of urpy misery to make it through. There for a while in the middle we were both all cute and round and eating everything we could get our hands on, without a negative side effect in sight, but soon enough the uneven timetables kicked in again.

Jasmine neared the end of her pregnancy and was understandably uncomfortable, being a thousand months pregnant and maybe in labor maybe not, and all through this I was still relatively able to move about and function like a human. So I guess maybe that was kind of unfair for her.

But then she got to go have give birth to her spectacularly cute little baby and I was there for it, all weepy and hand flappy and sometime around…30 minutes after Addison was born I was like “Oh my lands. I have 6 more freaking weeks of this nonsense!” And instantly, the uncomfortableness of 34 weeks pregnant kicked in.

That’s how my body works. Its totally fine until someone mentions something like “Oh hey! You are 36 weeks along and dialated to a one” and then suddenly I have very painful contractions. That eventually go away, but are painful nonetheless. So now I’m at 38 weeks and have had contractions on and off for the last 2 weeks. Yesterday they were about 15-20 minutes apart for a good 5 hours. And today? Nothing except the usual pubic bone ache that I’ve had for so long I’m thinking of giving it a name.

So…bah. In the meantime I’m going to walk around the block a few times and maybe go snuggle Addison in hopes that her baby powers will induce labor.

I have wrestled with the idea of what to say concerning the birth of Addison. It was the most ideal experience I could have hoped for. And still, everyone is asking, “Did you get an epidural?” “Did you do it naturally?” A big part of me feels like I owe people a story, since I bitched about all of it so openly on the blog…. the other part of me wants to hold on to the beautiful experience I had and not have it tainted by people’s judgments (because OH! DO THEY JUDGE!).

I think the better questions for people to ask me are: “Jasmine, was it what you wanted?” “Did you feel supported?” “Is Addison here and healthy?” Yes to all of the above!  Garrett was a super labor coach, Sadie was great comedic relief, and I pushed that baby out in two pushes like Zena the Warrior Princess! I am so elated with what I went through. It was lovely. The UTI that followed was NOT lovely. I have never had a urinary tract infection. I would rather give birth to all of the Dugger’s children than experience that again. Um. I am not lying! I would eagerly pop out all of those little Duggers than ever have razor blades come out of my pee hole again! Thank the Lord for Cranberry and Antibiotics. MERCY!

When we are a little farther away from the birth….and I feel less of a need to hold on to this sparkly happiness of a memory, I will recapitulate what I experienced. For now I am still all squishy over what happened. IF it is any indication, half way through Sadie and Garrett and I LAUGHING through one of my contractions Garrett looked at me and said, “Dude! This birth stuff is awesome, we should have another one…” Then a couple of days later he was looking at me with creepy Precious Moments dough eyes and said, “Aw babe! I miss your pregnant belly.” I mean, the experience was awesome, the pregnancy was a breeze… but keep your evil parasite producing penis away from me sir! There will be none of that!

Hope everyone is well. We are all covered in breast milk and happiness around here <3