For Erik

Today marks four years since Erik and I were sealed together for time and all eternity in the Rexburg, Idaho LDS Temple, and as I've been thinking about what happened four years ago today, and what has happened during these past four years, especially this last year, I decided to write this blog post to thank Erik for all he does and is for me.

Four and a half years ago I met Erik, and little did I know at that time what he would come to mean to me.  Since our first meeting I knew he was different, but that difference scared me so much that as we became friends and began growing closer, I eventually told him to no longer speak to me.  Poor Erik.  The weirdest part of it all though, was that he listened.  He respected what I'd asked of him, and after just two or three days of silence, I realized what a mistake I had made.  It wasn't long after that we began dating, and my world was flipped upside down.

I'd never met anyone like Erik before.  He was the exact opposite of what I thought I wanted; he was from the city, he'd never been hunting, he didn't enjoy camping, and he was extremely interested in politics.  I kept trying to tell myself that it wasn't going to go anywhere, but i couldn't get away from him, and before I knew it, things like this were happening.

I was happier than I'd ever been in my life, and Erik treated me better than I'd ever been treated before.  He was always there for me, opening doors for me, listening to me, always putting me first.  It didn't take us long to bring up the "M" word, marriage.  I always thought that talking about marrying someone would scare me, but with Erik it didn't.  It just felt right.  I was blessed to grow up in a home where I was taught that God, our Heavenly Father, will always lead us and guide us, and that if we are living our lives to the best of our abilities and obeying God's commandments, we will be blessed, and that God will not guide us astray, and so it was for me when it came to Erik.  I just knew, and never even questioned it.

In January of 2011 we got engaged, and it was fabulous!

We finished out our semester making wedding plans, and even though it was a crazy last week of school, we got everything done.  Amidst packing and moving all our stuff into our new apartment and me finishing all of my finals, Erik graduated with his bachelors the night before we got married.

It had been a crazy day, but we were both so excited for the coming morning, which turned out to be the most beautiful day of my life.  As members of the LDS (mormon) faith, Erik and I knew that we weren't just getting married, but that we were sealing ourselves together for time and all eternity.  We knew that because Christ's church has been restored to the earth through the prophet Joseph Smith, we were going to be able to covenant with God, to survive as a couple even after death, and that we would always be together because we were married in one of God's Holy Temples.  As we entered the temple in Rexburg, Idaho, and made those promised with God, I wept.  I had never been so filled with goodness and light, and it was a glorious, beautiful experience. 

After our marriage life continued on.  I went back to school for my last year, and Erik worked.  Just a few months shy of our first anniversary we found out I was pregnant, and although we were terrified, we were also very, very excited!  Three days before our first anniversary I graduated from college with my bachelors, and we began to prepare to move to Illinois so that Erik could receive his masters.

Once in Illinois baby plans got into full swing, and we prepared to welcome our little bundle of joy.  Little did we know how precious and amazing that little bundle would be, and on November 14th, Elijah William Miller came into the world.

During the first year and a half of our marriage my love for Erik had continued to grow as we figured out married life together, but after seeing him fulfill the role of father, my love for him grew more than I ever thought it could.

Having Elijah was one of the best things that had ever happened to us, but it also came at a huge cost.  I began a downward spiral into a depression that I didn't even know possible.  At first the doctors just ruled it as postpartum depression, but after a year and a half of utter hopelessness, it was obvious that what I was experience was much more.  I was soon diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, and without realizing it at first, I had began a road of personally healing that would test me to the max. 

In the past year I have felt and thought things that no human should ever have to think or feel.  I have been pushed to my uttermost limits, and then some, and at times I have thought that there was no hope, and that I would lose everything I'd ever fought for.  At times I was sure that Erik would be done, leave me in my pitifullness, and honest truth, I wouldn't have blamed him.  But in those moments when I was sure that I was alone, and that everyone would leave, Erik never, ever did.  During this past year as I have been pushed to my maxed emotionally, spiritually, and mentally, Erik has always been there.  He's been there in my deepest sorrow, he's helped me through my inner depths, and he's fought along side me as I've battled my inner demons.  Erik has woken up early, stayed up late, and taken care of our son to help me and to keep me where I need to be in order to be able to heal.  He has sacrificed everything for me, and he has done it without complaining.  He has shown me what it means to be unconditionally loved by your partner, by your best friend, and he has shown me that I matter, even when I think and feel that I don't.  He has held me through my tears, and rejoiced with me in my triumphs, and he has encouraged me in every step that I have taken on my lonely path.  He has always been here, and he has proven over and over again that he will not leave me, ever.  He has shown me what it means to be loved by someone, fully and completly, without any restraint.  He has become my rock and my light, and without him, I would truly be lost. 

Four years ago when I married Erik, I knew that I was doing the right thing, that I was doing what God desired, but now, four years later, I understand why God desired it.  God knew that only one person would be able to do for me what I would need done, and that that person is Erik.  God knew this, and because God is good, he led Erik and I to each other, and I will forever be grateful that he did.  Because being with Erik is what I need most, and God knew that. 

So today I want to say that I love you, Erik, and I thank God everyday for letting you be my friend, my husband, and my helpmeet.  I love you so much, and look forward to the day that I can show it to you, as you have shown it to me.  Happy Anniversary,

Love,

Lacey Miller

A Letter from a "CIO" (cry it out) adult

Lately I've been seeing lots of posts about mothers who have written "letters" as their infant explaining how when the mom lets the baby "cry it out" the infant feels alone, lost, unloved, and even though the infant eventually goes to sleep themselves and is quiet, how the infant still misses their mother but has resigned to the knowledge that they are unloved at nap time.  Well I hate to break it to the writers of these letters, but infants can't write, and what they are saying is just what they think and feel the infant is experiencing.  I am an adult now, and my mom let me "cry it out" when I was a baby, and I can write a letter, so here it is.

Dear Mom,

I just want to take a minute and thank you so much for loving me enough to let me "cry it out" when I was a baby.  As an adult and a new mother who is also sleep training her child to "cry it out" I am learning how much you truly do love me.  Thank you for understanding that as an infant, I have no concept of what is really important for my health.  All I want is attention, I did whatever I could to get it.  Thank you though for understanding that learning to soothe myself to sleep was and is a skill I needed to learn.  There are many reasons why I am so grateful for this, and I want to make a list of a few of them.

Thank you for understanding that sleep is one of the most important parts of a child's life.  Thank you for understanding that not all sleep is created equal, and that long, uninteruppted sleep is crucial to brain maturation.  Thank you for understanding that STUDIES done by real psychologists and doctors have proven that infants and children who don't get uninterupted sleep periods at night, (or to say those who wake up every two to four hours for a comfort nursing or a snuggle with mom or dad) are much more likely to become adult insomniacs and have sleep problems.  Thank you so much for allowing me to learn to sleep through the night by myself, so that now, as an adult, I can go to sleep quickly without problems.

Thank you for understanding that even though I crave attention, that sleep is more important.  Thank you for understanding that even though your heart hurt to hear me cry those first few nights when you left me in my crib, and you felt like the worst parent ever, that you didn't give in to me, and that you helped me learn that I can go sleep on my own.  It is a skill that has blessed me my whole life.  Through going to college and having many different roommates, many of them had big trouble going to sleep and staying asleep.  I haven't asked them specifically but I would bet that as infants their mothers always went to them when they started to cry at night or during nap time, and those habits they learned at even such a young age have affected them for the rest of their lives.  Thank you for preventing that in me, and teaching me the importance of doing the same for my children.

Thank you also for understanding that a goods night sleep results in a very happy baby.  Thank you for letting me cry so that I could go to sleep, stay asleep, and wake up in the morning feeling refreshed and ready for the day.  Ready to play, learn, and explore without the slow mind not enough sleep produces in everyone, especially babies.

And last, thank you for understanding the FACTS and the RESEARCH.  Thanks for understanding that even though hearing you baby cry him or herself to sleep is very, very difficult, that it is showing your child you truly do love them, and respect their need for sleep.  It is a habit that still blesses me today.  Thank you so much for loving me the way you do.

As an adult who was sleep trained by "crying it out" I can also say that I have never harbored ill feelings towards you, felt abondoned, or affected by my sleep schedule as an infant.  Infact, I don't remember any of it, the only thing I remember is being able to go to bed by myself at a young age, and if I woke back up at night, being able to put myself back to sleep again.

So thank you for loving me, Mom, and for respecting my need to sleep, even when at first I protested.

Love your daughter,

Lacey Miller

(If you want the references to where I got my facts I can give them to you, they are facts shown and proven by doctors and psychiatirsts with real degrees and real results)

(for anyone looking for a wonderful book to help parents learn how to sleep train their children, this has been my favorite, and I HIGHLY reccomend it  Below is the amazon link.  The book is entitled "Healthy sleep habits happy child" and is by Dr. Marc Weissbluth.)

http://www.amazon.com/Healthy-Sleep-Habits-Happy-Child/dp/0449004023/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1384185231&sr=1-1&keywords=healthy+sleep+habits+happy+child

Grateful for the tantrums

I've had a thought going through my mind a lot the past few weeks, and I've decided to share it.  Over the past two months Elijah has really gotten his personality, and his infant defiance.  He throws food on the floor, plays with things he knows he's not supposed to, and throws a huge tantrum when he doesn't get his way.  I know, I know, completely normal behavior for a child nearing the age of one, but every time Elijah does one of these things, for the first few seconds I begin to feel slightly frustrated, but then I am washed over with gratitude, because he is acting NORMAL, and that is a very good thing,

Here is a picture of me last July or so before Elijah was born.  My brother and his family came to visit for a few days, and we were able to get into the Shedd Aquarium.  It was a blast, and the best part was my sister-in-law who is amazing with a camera took some shots of me with my belly.  Here's one of my favorites. 

 Like every first time parents Erik and I really had no clue what was coming, but we were excited.  We were prepared for the long nights, seemingly endless tears, and all that comes with having a new born.  What we weren't prepared for, though, was the size of our son's head.

As I've mentioned before, Elijah ended up being an emergency c-section because his head was just too big to leave my body.  That should have been our first clue.  It wasn't a big surprise though, all of my nieces and nephews have large heads and many if not all of them have had some kind of a test run whether it be an ultra sound or a CAT scan to check the size of their head, but even with the knowledge that this is a normal occurrence with my gene pool, the fear was still there when the pediatrician told me that I needed to take Elijah to go see a neurologist about the size of Elijah's head.  Logic told me he was fine, this happened with all "Stokes" babies, but even with that knowledge, the fear was there.  It worsened when the neurologist checked out my little man and told me that there were some reflex issues, and that Elijah needed to have an MRI done.  An MRI?  That was much more than a CAT scan or an ultrasound.  My worries began to grow, and by the time the day came for the MRI, I was very nervous.  The procedure went well though, and then the doctor called.  He said that most things looked good, but that Elijah had more fluid in his brain than most people, which can lead to problems.  He said that it was probably nothing, but that we would have to keep seeing the neurologist every few months and other MRI's might be needed.  About a month later we went back for Elijah's head check up.  The doctor told me that he looks great, his reflexes are now where they should be, and that as long as Elijah keeps developing normally, than there is nothing to worry about.

So bring on the food being thrown on the floor, bring on the tantrums, bring on the refusal to nap,bring on the frustration when the triangle won't go through the circle slot on his shape shorter.  I am grateful for every single one of these things that Elijah does, because it means he is normal, and that is what I want most.

In September the Miller family was able to go to the Shedd Aquarium.  So after a year and few months from the picture above, this is the most recent one.

Same balcony, and very similar pose, but with Elijah on the outside, which is oh so much better.  This little man means the world to me, and I just continually pray that he will keep being "normal" even when that entails the hardships of being a new mom.

Lacey Miller

This is Happiness

At the beginning of September my sister-in-law and brother-in-law were able to come for a visit from France where they are living to receive their master's degrees.  Although their stay was short, way too short, we did find time to have family photos taken.  The last photos we had of all of us were at their wedding, which was in August of 2011.  The photographer we picked for the most recent photo shoot was PHENOMENAL, and here's why.  Just check out some of these shots.

But out of all of these, here is my absolute most favorite, and the reason for the title of this post

For this, my friends, is true happiness.  Sure we have our trials, sure things aren't perfect in our lives, but we have each other, and we are a family, and for that, I am eternally grateful.  Thanks Erik and Elijah for continuing to give me such a good reason to stay strong, and find happiness.  I love you both!

Lacey Miller

10 months craziness

So when Elijah was born, we decided that every time he reached another month old we would take a picture of him with a sign announcing how old he was so that in the future we can look back on him and "ooo" and "ahh" over how much her grew last month.  Instead of posting the pictures again, you can refer to my earlier post "Elijah Overload" where months 1-9 or posted.  Today marked month ten, and wow, it's amazing how much Elijah has learned to move in a month! Here is a picture story of how our photo shoot went.

 and finally, after two separate photo shoots and over 35 pictures later, we got this one.

Happy ten months little man, we sure do love you!

Lacey Miller

A bottle-feeding mother's view on the breast-feeding battle

Alright people I just really need to vent about something for a minute.  In the past several years much research has come out that proves that breastfeeding is "better" than bottle feeding.  I do not disagree with this, nutritional wise for the child, breast feeding is best, but lets not forget here people that the baby isn't the one responsible for producing the breast milk.  This post is for all those mothers out there who desperately wanted to breastfeed because "breast is best" and ended up going through a very unpleasant place in trying to be the "perfect mom" who exclusively breast feeds. 

I know that for almost all woman, after their child is born one of the first things that the doctors have them do is put their child to their breast to begin to nurse.  For many new mothers, this works very well.  The child hungrily latches on and sucks and sucks until he or she begins getting the colostrum from the mother.  This colostrum eventually turns into very healthy breast milk, and the baby gets all of it's needed nutrition and much of its comfort from breast feeding.  Sure the mother is going to experience some pain as her body gets use to breast feeding, but is definitely worth it to have your little one so close to you and receiving their much nutrition from your body.  For those moms out there nodding their heads yes, that is how it goes, well congratulations to you.  Seriously, I'm happy that you were blessed with a child that latched on quickly and with breasts that produced thoroughly, but did you know that it doesn't always happen that way?  Did you know that there are such things as inverted nipples that make it very difficult for an infant to latch onto?  Did you know that there are conditions such as low milk supply?  Depression and anxiety that greatly affect the amount and quality of the breast milk produced?  And many other things that can greatly affect breastfeeding?  Well let me tell you a little story about myself.

When I was in college I got a bachelors degree psychology.  I spent many classes learning about how the female body produces milk and how breast feeding is much better for the mother and baby than bottle feeding.  As I went through these classes and learned these things I vowed to be a "good mom" and to do whatever it would take to breast feed my children, because I wanted the best for them.

During my pregnancy I prepared for breastfeeding.  I bought a breast pump, breast feeding pillows, nipple cream, the works.  I just knew that it was going to work because I was "taught" that it only doesn't work if the mother is lazy and doesn't have the pain tolerance to deal with adjusting to have a little human suck their needed nutrition out of their body. 

The day finally came for delivery.  I went in so excited, but after eleven hours of labor, the doctors learned that my son's head was too big to fit through my birth canal, and an emergency c-section was scheduled.  I'll never forget the joy of hearing my son's first cry as the doctor delivered him, and I watched in pain as my husband got to spend the first forty-five minutes of my son's life without me as my body was being sewn back up.  Finally I was allowed in the delivery room where I instantly drew my son to my breast, so ready to begin being a "good mother" and breast feeding my son.  I put him up to my breast, and he didn't take it.  I tried everything the nurse could recommend, but no matter what we did my son would not latch on.  Due to his size and being so big he had to eat within the hour in order to get certain blood tests done, so I had to give up my first breast feeding attempt and feed him some formula for the blood tests.  I would not be deterred, though, and I knew that it would be the only bottle of formula he would ever need.

As the night went on they brought my son in to feed every three or four hours.  (he was born a big boy, 9 pounds, 6 ounces and therefore didn't eat as often as a regular newborn.  Lucky me, I know!)  They brought him in, but after trying and trying, he again wouldn't latch on.  The nurse showed me how to use the hospital breast pump, and I tried to get milk that way, to no avail.  I was assured this was normal.  I also knew that it took time to for the milk to come in, especially with a c-section, so I patiently waited for my body to start responding.

After three days recovering in the hospital, my breasts were still milkless.  The hospital sent me home with a $900 breast pump on loan for a dollar a day until my body was producing enough milk.  As I was preparing to leave the hospital nurse after nurse came in, reminding me the importance of breast feeding and sticking with it till it worked, and after all of that, I began to cry.  It had been three days and I hadn't even gotten colostrum.  My son refused to latch, and the few times he did, he wouldn't suck.  I was discouraged and mad at myself.  What had I done wrong?  How was I failing at being a "good mom?"  I left the hospital feeling guilty that I couldn't provide food for my son, and determined to do so.

After arriving home the pumping began.  Every two hours I would pump my breasts for thirty minutes, trying to encourage milk supply.  I would get some piddly amounts, and it was barely enough to feed my son.  During the nights I was getting up every two hours to keep my milk supply going, afraid that if I slept longer I would lose what little supply I had.  When I tried to breastfeed my son he still wouldn't latch on, and even if he did, which was rare, he would only suck two or three times and then fall into such a deep sleep that he couldn't be wakened.  We were putting my breast milk into bottles to feed him, and I continued to have to pump every two hours.  Slowly my body began to become so tired that I couldn't function.  I wasn't thinking properly, and then I was hit over the head with two tons of cement, called depression and anxiety.

Along with pumping every two hours, I was having an anxiety attack every three or four.  My thoughts began to scare me, and my body was so drained that I wondered if I should just end everything.  I couldn't let my son down though, I had to breast feed him.  As he grew the first week, though, he began drinking more than I could produce, and the guilt of not being able to feed my own son continually grew on me.  My nipples started bleeding from being pumped so much, and my mental state was continually worsening to the point where I could barely stand to be in the same room as my son.  I was scared to be alone with him, and felt like a failure because I couldn't breast feed him.  During this time I saw lactation specialists.  I talked to nurses and breast feeding hotlines.  Everything they reccomended didn't work for me.  Finally I ended up in OB's office.  That was the best day of my life.

As we talked about my failure at breast feeding I completely lost it and once again burst into tears.  I told him how I was a failure and how I could barely keep my son fed.  He listened to me quietly, and after I calmed down said, "I have a question for you.  What do you think is more important?  A breast fed baby with an unstable mother who is having several anxiety attacks a day or a formula fed baby with a stable mother who can cuddle and play with him"  I looked at him, and said the latter.  he said "you are right.  No more breast feeding.  Go buy some formula, and dry up your breasts.  You have to be well in order for you son to be well."  Those few minutes with the doctor changed my life.  I left the doctors office and bought some formula.  When I got home it was time to eat, so we mixed up a bottle and and fed it to my son.  He actually drank it without complaining.  That night I was able to sleep for more than two hours, and things slowly started turning around for me.

It was after the doctors appointment that I realized that breast feeding your child doesn't make you a good mother.  Neither does bottle feeding.  What makes a good mom is a woman who knows what works best for her and for her family. For many women that is to breast feed.  The child latches on, the mothers body produces fully, and that's great.  For other woman though, it is not worth the battle.  I was on the brink of ending everything I had going for me, all because of the pressure I felt to breast feed, because only "good moms" breast feed.  Well I want to tell everyone that that's not true, because I am a good mom, and I bottle feed my son.  I can still have quiet alone time with him without him being at my breast.  I can still bond with him and share special moments.  You don't need to breast feed to be able to have that connection with your baby.

So if you are a new mother, and feel like a failure because breast feeding just isn't working for you, don't.  It's ok.  How your child receives their nutrition doesn't matter, as long as they receive it, and they are loved.

Vent over.  If you found it a little harsh, sorry, but I want to get this out there for all those moms who don't breast feed.  Please know, that you are still a good mom.

Lacey Miller

A Hip Tale

Once upon a time in a land called Chicago there lived a young woman with her loving husband and with his loving parents.  This young woman was pregnant with her first son, and they family was exstatic to welcome the little one into the world.

Finally after waiting and waiting for the little one to come, the time came, and labor was induced.  The young woman spent several hours trying to be "tough" and deliver naturally, but after several hours she decided to embrace the blessings of this day and age, and she received an epidural.

After the epidural the young couple anxiously awaited their little one's arrival, but for some reason, he was not coming.  Eventually the doctors figured out that the child's head was too big to leave the woman's body, so a c-section was scheduled, and after being in labor for eleven hours, the young boy was born.

It was a time of much rejoicing for the new little family.  The new mother got settled into her hospital room and she and her husband spent time getting to know their little one.  As night time approached the new father went home to sleep and to let the new mother rest.  She bid farewell to her new son who spent the night in the hospital nursery, and she quickly fell asleep.

During the middle of the night she was awakened by pain.  Many would call this natural and very normal, a woman who just had a nine pound six ounce baby cut out of her is sure to feel pain, but the pain was not in the incission, it was in her hip.  The pain became so intense that the young woman almost began to cry.  She buzzed for the nurse who came in and gave her some pain medication to help with the hip, and the medication dulled the pain, but it never fully left.

After discussing this pain with the doctor the conclusion was reached that after the epidural was given and the bottom half of the young girl's body was numb, her legs were spread very wide eagle, and therefore caused the pain in her hip.  The doctor said that it should get better with time, and the young woman sure hoped so.

Over the next several days as her incision healed the hip continued to hurt.  With time the pain slowly subsided until it was gone.  The young woman thought that the pain was finally over, finished, never to return.  She thought this for a long time, until the barometric pressure changed as a storm came rolling in, and her hip began hurting again.

And to this day this young woman of only twenty-five years can predict when storms are coming because her hip starts hurting.  It is a pain in the hip, but it is one of the sacrifices that she gave in order to have her son.

Tonight is no different.  The day was sunny and warm, but in the last hour and a half a storm has zoomed in and my hip has let me know that there is changes in the weather outside.  And this is the tale of Lacey Miller's weather predicting hip.