Welcome to your world, Catalina!

On February 4th, 2017 our newest addition to our family came into the world!

The past two months has been spent adjusting to life with a preschooler (WHAT?!) and a newborn but overall it’s been great. Paloma has taken so well to her “baby sissy” and has adjusted better than I thought she would.

We are so in love with our newest addition, it’s hard to remember what life was like without this bundle of joy in our life. How she came into our world, however uneventful, will be hard to forget.

After another very hot summer day I was in bed watching tv when I started getting uncomfortable contractions. I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions since I was around 30 weeks pregnant so I didn’t think too much of it until I realized that after drinking water, putting my feet up, going to the bathroom, and lying down on my left side was doing nothing to alleviate them. I started timing them at around midnight, they were steadily coming every 7-10 minutes, nothing too concerning or worth going to the hospital for. I tried to sleep but every time I would get a contraction I would wake up. At around 6:30am they started coming in every five minutes. I started getting our bags ready and leaving things prepared for PJ and my parents in case we had to leave at a moments notice. I woke up Carlos at around 7:30am so he could go to the store and buy some food in case we would be gone for more than the normal two day hospital stay.

By the time he got back and PJs breakfast was made my contractions were coming every three minutes lasting about a minute each. Every contraction knocked the wind out of me and my knees would buckle beneath me. We packed the car and started on our hour long journey to the hospital. I would like to point out that I was anything but calm, cool, or collected. I was screaming and moaning in pain, banging on the ceiling and listening to PANIC! At the Disco’s new album Death of a Bachelor for some sort of comfort. How Carlos managed to get us there without crashing is beyond me.

Once I got to the hospital my contractions were so close together I couldn’t get out of the car so Carlos had to pull up to the ambulance bay and grab a nurse to assist me. They wheeled me up to L&D while Carlos parked the car. The emergency room OBGYN checked me and said I was barely a centimeter dilated. I thought it was impossible considering how close together my contractions were but wasn’t too surprised considering the same happened with PJ. As luck would have it my OBGYN was the doctor on call so he already knew we wanted to have a repeat c-section. He did make me wait about two painful hours before getting me into the operating room (rude) but everything went smoothly.

Catalina was born at 1:43pm, weighing in at 3.045kg and measured in at 18 inches. She was much smaller than any of the doctors thought she would be. Two days beforehand we had an ultrasound performed where the technician said she would come in close to 4kg.

My recovery has been great. I was feeling back to (almost) normal once they removed my stitches. Breastfeeding this time around has definitely been more successful and overall our transition to being parents to two beautiful girls has been much easier than I anticipated.

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For anyone looking for a newborn photographer in Montevideo I can highly recommend Charles Sarti Photography in Carrasco. Charles is HIGHLY professional and truly dedicated to his craft. 

 

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Ambition…or lack thereof.

Something I haven’t mentioned recently is that I started a new job in June. I’m not quite sure if I mentioned it in previous posts’ but I had been applying for work since February. I had a few interviews but nothing ever panned out.

Then in May I had an interview for a company I had heard about but didn’t really know much. (Not really sure if I’m allowed to mention it so I’m going to play it safe and just not). I went into the interview kind of ambivalent. I had already gone to a few, the companies hadn’t even bothered to send me a rejection letter, and I figured the same thing would’ve happened here. But to my surprise they called me back by the end of the week and offered me the job.

I’m glad I took the job. I’m working for a popular big box store in the States–my gosh do I miss big box stores–as a Help Desk Agent for their employees, dealing with things like security cameras, office computers and printers. I like the people I work with. I love getting out of the house and talking with people my own age. I think the decision to get out and work was great for my mental health. But the longer I’m there, the harder it is for me to find an incentive to stay there long term.

Like most companies, getting a promotion here is dependent on whether or not a position NEEDS to be filled. I won’t go as far as to say that promotions, when they happen, aren’t reward based. But they only happen based on when a position opens up. Again, that’s understandable and it happens in most companies, especially the higher up someone gets in a company the harder it is to move from position to position. Unless you’re in IT, but I don’t feel like I’ll be qualified for an IT position any time soon.

In most of my past work experiences I’ve always been ambitious. I’ve always done my job well to get promoted quickly or have been able to find better jobs at other companies based on my customer service. I wanted to be someone “important.” I wanted to be able to do something at more than just an entry level position. But in my current position, both within the company and also in Uruguay, I’m feeling like my only options will always be at a call center.

Which leads me to wonder if we should move back to the States in order to find better paying work. But then I think about health insurance and how difficult it would be to come by unless I have a full time job and I start having a panic attack. I know that us moving, anywhere at this point, is unrealistic.

Before I had kids I would always be the first one into work and the last one out. I worked extra shifts and wouldn’t mind if I didn’t get paid for them. I always figured that my dedication would be noticed and appreciated, eventually being merited. But now every afternoon I make sure to clock out at exactly the precise moment my shift ends to get home and be with my child. I don’t offer to take my coworkers shifts when they need a day off  because it means more days away from PJ. I show up, I clock in, do my job, and leave.

I’m at this point in my life where I feel like I have no ambition and no direction in my life apart from loving and caring for my family. I don’t know what I want to do for ME. I look at my husband and his passion for his art. He’s so driven to succeed. He works tirelessly to promote himself, to put on shows, to get recognized by publications, anything that will get him a step ahead.

I miss that burning desire to succeed, you know, the one that feels like a roaring fire in the pit of your stomach being fed with each and every “Good job!” and “Great work! Keep it up!”

I’m hoping that in the coming months I’ll be able to find what fuels me again. Who knows, maybe I’ll find it in this job. Or maybe I’ll find it in something totally different like writing, baking, or outreach! I just know that in order to ignite that fire again I have to start looking for a match.

 

**I’ll make a post soon about how we’ve transitioned from two stay-at-home parents to one!