Poop, Sleep and Fears

My absolute FAVORITE food group in the world is dairy.  How can milk and cheese be considered anything OTHER than absolutely amazing.  I mean, it's silky, it's rich, it's creamy, it helps make chocolate, you can have it hot, cold, warm and makes anything it is added to better just for having it in there.

One of my favorite activities is sleep.  I am a go, go, go person.  Even if we have no where to be, I cannot sit still, I have to be folding laundry, wiping stuff down, creating, talking, cleaning, whatever, I just have to be doing it.  Which, takes a lot of energy.  Luckily, sleep helps replenish that energy.  And caffeine, which I did work really hard to be off of, and I hate drinking it, but I know that it helps decrease the risk of SIDS, and therefore, I enjoy my daily Dr. Pepper.

Last night, I changed another explosive diaper.  They've all been a little runny and brownish lately.  This one was more brownish, more watery and had some brown, mucus streaks in it.  It wasn't pretty.  And me being the completely psychotic, over protective mom I have been lately was thisclose to going to the ER with it.  Luckily, I married a very rational man who told me it was just mucus, she did not have a fever, she was smiling, she was doing just fine.

Well, if I can't go and have a doctor tell me right that second that everything is perfectly normal, Dr. Google can help ease my mind.  Word to the wise, do not google image search infant diaper with runny poop and mucus streaks, it is not a pretty sight.  But, you can learn a lot.  Do you know what the number one cause for mucus in the poop is?  Allergies.  Do you know what the number one allergy in infants is?  Dairy.  Do you know who drank a ton of milk the past couple days after not having much in a few weeks?  This mommy.

So, it looks like I'm going to try and eliminate dairy from my diet to see if that helps the princess.  I sure do love my milk, but she is more than worth it.

And, she lets me sleep.  It's me that doesn't allow it.

Last night, Samantha slept for 7 hours straight.  6 the two nights before and up to 5 for a week before that.  Which means that every 5 minutes, as she is in her sound sleep, I am checking her breathing.  Making sure it sounds normal, making sure she isn't warm or coughing, making sure nothing is near her face obstructing her air.  It has been so much worse this week.  I can feel the anxiety creeping up and getting worse.  I know it's there.

9 weeks and 3 days.  That is how old Samantha is.  Matthew was 10 weeks old, to the day, when he took his last breath before dawn.  If that horrific night wouldn't have turned out that way, he would have went to the doctor for his 2 month appointment and vaccines.  Samantha goes on Monday.  9 weeks and 6 days.  I am so glad they didn't schedule it for Tuesday.  I think I would have easily lost it.

I know I am an emotional mess watching her about to pass her big brother in lifespan.  I know it's why I chose to withdraw.  I know it's why I have been much more particular about who I spend my time with and who I talk to.  I am not a negative person.  I am a big believer that if your unhappy with your life you need to take steps to fix it.  That's it.  And I know that right now I am not only sensitive but impatient as well.  I just cannot handle it.  I cannot handle griping, complaining and whining about things within someone's control when I know how much worse life can be.

In 4 days, she will be 10 weeks old.  In 5 days, she will be alive longer than Matthew was.  70 days is such a short length of time...