Waiting for the next one

I don't know how mothers with chronic illnesses get through life. This sucks. When I'm not feeling ill, I'm waiting for the first twinge of an oncoming migraine in hopes that I'll have time to take my new medicine and head off the evil brain cramp at the pass. My "cue" that one is soon arriving is numbness, and last night I laid awake in bed for fifteen minutes waiting for the brief numbness in my jaw to start traveling to other areas of the body.

My doctor prescribed me Midrin yesterday, for which I am grateful. Luckily, she's the kind of doctor who feels that migraine sufferers have decreased quality of life if they have frequent migraines, and she's very anxious to find the right combination to keep me pain free. Love her for that.

In the meantime, until I start forgetting the hellish pain, I'm still more likely wake up an hour early so I can start drinking coffee and taking tylenol to avoid a migraine. In time, I should relax and stop sitting on the edge of my seat waiting.

I had a headache last night when Ben made another run for the highway (not really, we're not near a highway). I thought he was just standing at the side door looking outside until I heard Anna screaming. She was outside on the porch, stuck between the door and the jamb. When Ben opened the door and ran, she tried following him. He ran down the graveled alley (how did that not hurt his delicate feet?) and I followed in my slow, tenuous way.

I'm not usually a spanker, but last night he needed an extra reminder.

In happy news, ecstatic news, thrilling news, my sister is giving birth to her daughter Mya tomorrow morning in a planned c-section. Such a happy occasion. Good luck, Jolene! The first six weeks are the hardest.

Mom Moments

You know you have watched too much Cars when you greet your baby with:

"Hi. My name's Mama. Like Tuh-mama, but without the Tuh."

*************

Anna slept in her crib last night until four this morning. I woke up several times to check on her breathing. It was amazing. Anyway. When she fell asleep in my arms later this morning after I fed her, I put her back in the crib, but left the door to our bedroom open so I could hear her.

Ben was running around the house like a rabid baboon, throwing his big red ball here and there, climbing up the stairs to throw it over the half-wall at the top. "Ball. Ball. Ball!" (Can you guess where this is going?)

All of a sudden, I hear Anna cry. I wasn't surprised, because sometimes when she wakes up, she's startled to realize she's not being held, and she gets a bit upset about that. I went into the bedroom to check on her, and when I saw Ben peeking over the edge (it's a packnplay with the bassinet insert), I knew he probably had something to do with her crying.

I found his big red ball right next to Anna's face. He had thrown it in the crib so she could take a turn with the ball. He probably had hit her in the head with it, waking her up. *Sigh and giggle*

*************

And finally, there's my helpful hints for dealing with a screaming Anna.

At my sister-in-law's baby shower, I received many comments about what a good girl Anna was, how surprising it was that she was content to just sit on my lap and watch the festivities. I smiled and said thank you, but secretly, I wanted to explain to them that she was actually a terror sometimes. I didn't bother because they probably wouldn't believe me. Who could believe that such an angelic beauty could ever give her parents a minute of despair?

Last night, I took my husband up on his standing invitation to watch the children in the evenings so I could go to the gym on my own for a workout. I ate dinner before he got home from work, and after feeding Anna one last time, I escaped the friendly confines of SAHM prison. When I got back 85 minutes later, Ben was eating dinner, and Anna was lying peacefully asleep in her dad's arms. But Chris was exhausted and frazzled.

Anna has had screaming fits in the evenings almost every night since her birth. Sometimes they only last fifteen minutes, other times, they extend for nearly an hour. It's very hard to deal with. It happens when she depletes my milk supply and is still hungry. She gets so upset, she won't take a bottle or the nuk. She just sits there, freaking out.

I asked Chris what he did to help her get through it, and he said he just held her tightly, patting her butt, offering the bottle and nuk every so often. Finally she passed out, soaked in sweat and exhausted.

He has seen me deal with her screaming fits in the past, and I've come up with a number of things that sometimes work on its own or in combination, but he forgets easily or doesn't bother trying and just sticks to the swaddle/pat routine. "It works eventually," he says with a sheepish look.

So I sent him an email containing strategies he can reference for Screaming Anna.

• Strip off all her clothes and start rubbing her limbs and belly. Gentle caresses are fine. Nothing very vigorous. Use lotion if that will make you feel more comfortable. Let her hang out for a while in just her diaper and onesie after you are done. She's just like her mommy. She doesn't like to be too warm, and she heats up when she gets upset.
• Stand up and walk around with her upright in your arms, bouncing as you step.
• Walk around with her, talking to her, showing her different areas of the house and different items in it. "This is the chair in the dining room." "This is the crying baby in the mirror. Her name is Anna, and we love her anyway." Etc. Speak in soothing tones, sing-songy.
• Strip her down again, only this time, have a cool wet washcloth nearby. Lightly brush it over her limbs. This is especially helpful after she's been screaming for a while and is all sweaty.
• Just let her suck on your finger for a while, the pad of your finger on the roof of her mouth. This has worked for me a number of times when she has refused the nuk and the bottle and the breast. There's something perfect about the shape.
• Keep changing her position, trying to interact with her, talking to her, making faces and expressions. Turn her around and show her the TV. Try to get Ben to kiss her. Go in the bedroom and turn on The Wiggles with Ben. Hold her while you sing, dancing around. The goofier the better.
• If she won't calm down and you are losing your patience, strap her into the bouncy chair or swing with the burp rag around her neck and the nuk in place. Then go downstairs in the basement and move laundry or clean the litter box. Make sure the dryer is on. You won't really be able to hear her. Chances are, by the time you are done with whatever you were doing, she might have stopped crying on her own. She might have passed out, but she might have just given up the beast or finally gotten the fart out. Either way, you will have had time to refocus and gather your marbles.
  

My ideas worked, not because he followed them to the letter, but because he started watching me last night, and it just "clicked" in his head. After I went to bed, Anna started screaming again, but this morning, Chris was happy to report it only lasted five minutes. He had figured out that she did wanted to be cuddled against him, but she still wanted her nuk.

He's learning how to parent by intuition, which is an art form. I'm so proud. I think once he starts doing that more, he'll enjoy his Anna time.

In Honor Of Eighteen

It's been just about three years since I was a size 18. That was how long ago it was when I last wore the pants that I tried on yesterday. They fit! Snug, but they fit, and I was able to breathe and move around. I find it phenomenal that I have lost 18 pounds in just under one month. We started this whole thing on January 5th. And now I'm two pounds away from my first 20 pound goal. That's when I'll take pictures and measurements again.

In honor of being a size eighteen again, I present 18 observations of the last two days:

1. Ben randomly runs up to us now and tackles our legs. It's a typical toddler love thing, but it's a recent development for him, and I absolutely love it.
   
2. Changing a baby's diaper while she's sitting on your lap in the passenger side of the car (we were stopped of course) is not nearly as difficult as gingerly peeling off poop-soaked clothes and replacing them with clean ones, all while trying not to get the offending goo all over yourself.
   
3. I tucked the icy cold baby wipes under my breasts to quickly warm them so they wouldn't shock her delicate baby skin. I think that is one of the truest examples of a mother's love.
4. I have wonderful siblings. I had so much fun with my sisters yesterday at the baby shower. I wish they lived closer to me. They sort of kick total ass, and I wuv them dearly.
5. Driving to Appleton when the roads are snow-covered and slippery is a bad idea. Really. Driving back from Appleton when the roads are even more snow-covered and slippery is a worse idea. Daisy, you were out and about yesterday, so you know.
   
6. We lost count of how many cars we saw go in the ditch. Once, we saw a car actually fly into the ditch. It was a white-knuckled trip.
   
7. When we finally got to the church ten minutes late for the baby shower, I hauled Anna in right away. When I got to the room with all the baby shower stuff, I looked around and didn't recognize anyone, and the room was strangely decorated in blue. Wasn't my SIL having a daughter?
8. Apparently, within two blocks of each other, two baby showers were being held at the exact same time at two different churches.
9. When someone eats a whole scoop of frozen custard because that person's son absolutely refused to eat it himself, she works extra hard at the gym that night.
10. Moms of toddler boys often have little cars in various pockets.
    
11. Yesterday, I had no less than four.
    
12. When you incorporate more activity into your life (chasing my son at a dead run down the church hallway), eating a little slice of spice cake at a baby shower doesn't show up on the scale. My weight went down another pound and a half since yesterday, and that was with some minor cheating, ie cake. (We skipped the creamy fruit salads and potato salads and filled up on a turkey sandwich and a whole mess of fresh veggies... and three cocktail turkey meatballs).
    
13. I honestly think that I flipped a switch on my metabolism. How else to explain the constant weight loss?
    
14. I credit T-Tapp with this. Even though the 15-minute workouts are intense and exhilaratingly difficult at times, I end up with a huge burst in energy afterwards that stays with me for most of the day. It's not so much of a big deal anymore to jump up and chase after Ben or to make several trips up and down the stairs. And really, that's what the advertisements say will happen. I don't get tired as easily.
    
15. Anna's hair is changing from a dark brown to a medium shade of strawberry blonde. You can definitely see it in her eyebrows. I think with her deep blue eyes, it'll be a very attractive combination.
16. Today is my spa day at the YMCA when I get to spend two hours there with no children or husband. I could spend it lounging around in the women-only whirlpool, but I will probably bust my butt some more on the elliptical trainer and the bike.
    
17. I have this terrible urge to finally start chipping the tiles off of the bathroom walls like we had planned on doing last March. We put off finishing the bathroom makeover because of time constraints, but I'm getting very close to taking a chisel and a hammer and just going to town. I'm not quite sure what is stopping me, other than the inevitable mess and dust that I'll have to clean up.
    
18. My dear sister is pregnant again. She's sicker than a dog now, so we have high hopes for this pregnancy. She's finally gotten some relief from the vomiting by taken Unisom. I'm so happy for her on so many levels, though with her husband in the military, she faces quite a challenge with having two children around the house. I wish I lived closer so I could ease some of the strain.
    

And there you have it. My Eighteen in honor of Size Eighteen. Wooo!!! Now get up off your butt and shake your tail feather in celebration of my awesome progress! And for those out there who are struggling with motivation to get in gear and make positive steps towards your weight loss goal... just remind yourself of me. If I can do it, so can you! No fancy powders, no difficult diets, no heart-hurting drugs. Just clean, healthy eating and clean, vigorous activity.

Not Without Some Help

Note: I posted my recipe for Quick Tuna Salad at Skinny Meals today. Now back to your regular scheduled programming.

When the WIC receptionist told me I had to bring my kids with me to the appointment this morning, I kind of laughed to myself. After that "interesting" afternoon when I tried to take my kids with me to the Y to workout, I know now that I am just not cut out for single parenting... or dealing my children when I'm by myself in public.

So I avoid it. Like the plague.

Luckily, since it's bitterly cold here in Wisconsin, Chris needed to drive to work, not walk. So I didn't have a car, and that gave me the perfect excuse to ask my mother if she could plan the swing-through-town-and-kiss-the-babies visit for during my appointment so she could take us there.

And I'm so glad she was able to come with me. Everything was okay until we were in the office with the nutrition counselor. Ben grew quite bored with her plastic fruits and veggies, and I only had three matchbox cars for him to play with from his diaper bag. Apparently, that wasn't enough entertainment. I had to move my chair in front of the door so he wouldn't get out. He was fussing, and I was ignoring him, trying to listen to the nice lady tell me ways I could get Ben to eat more.

When he was "this close" to a full-blown meltdown, Nana offered to take him out to the lobby and let him play. I happily finished my appointment with a sleeping Anna in my arms.

Little did I know that Ben ran around the entire family services building a few times while I was busy. Up and down stairs, the elevator, in and out of as many rooms as had open doors, etc. Ran Nana into the ground. She even lost him once.

Some days, it's really obvious when Ben needs a morning nap AND an afternoon nap. I had hoped to just give Ben an afternoon nap today... but the stinker woke up at 5:30. So by 9 am when the appointment started, he was already overtired and not ready to be a good boy.

In other news, we had to go to the next size in diapers for Anna. This really isn't momentous news or really worth blogging about... unless you consider the size. Folks, her chubby little butt requires size four diapers now. She's three months old. My nephew Gage is over a year old, and he wears size four diapers and weighs more than ten pounds more than she does.

I'm having a hard time understanding this. Ben's size five diapers are kind of loose on him... and I was considering going back to size fours for him. But it's just too weird to have them both wear the same size. Sure, it's very convenient, but geez. My little girl has a big butt already.

Cars, Trains and Go-Go-Go!

It's a baby shower for Mothergoosemouse! I've been a subscriber of hers since the beginning of my blog career, and she's an inspiration and a gem... and she's about to become the mother of a bouncing baby boy!

Boys will always love their moms. In the early years, he is Mom's tag-along and best buddy. In a world full of macho images of what boys are supposed to be like, most little boys will privately revolt and spend time adoring all that is Mother. My mom once told me about a boy in her kindergarten class who would spend story time petting the softness of her panty-hosed feet. He craved the softness that mothers bring after time at home with his burly "my son will be a quarterback, not a sissy" dad.

The time will come when he no longer wants your kisses and hugs in public. You'll simply be a source of transportation and new toys and gadgets. But as adults? If you raised him well, his heart will come back to you. Both of my brothers are incredibly close with my mother as adults. They love her to pieces and would steamroll anyone who would dare to make her unhappy.

My son is two years old, and my life is jam-packed full of Cars, trains and racing. His energy is startling, and his obsession for choo-choos and gucks (trucks and cars) seems to be never-ending. But he still loves me dearly. I know this because he'll climb on the couch to be next to me, and he'll wrap his arm around my neck or shove it down my back. He'll lean his forehead against mine, and he'll leave me wet, sloppy kisses on my cheek. We'll spend minutes like this, cuddling and watching TV, his hand tangled up in my hair, wriggling around, smoothing out the curls against the nape of my neck.

Here's to you, Julie. You're in for a wild and crazy ride of fun and love and see-food and vrooom and honk-honk. Enjoy yourself, and don't leave his pee-pee exposed when you change his diaper, or you'll be toweling off the walls. And even though he has an outie, there are still lots of crevices and wrinkles for poop to hide, so be gentle, but clean well.

Reflection on the Last

In all the reading I did leading up to having a second baby, I came across someone who said that the first time you see your firstborn after your baby is delivered, you'll be amazed at how grown up and not-babyish he is.

It's so true. I don't think it hit me until the first time I changed Ben's diaper after Anna was born. I was already used to changing the delicate newborn diapers, gently squeezing warm water over her bottom to clean off the poop without having to use harsh soapy chemicals, slowly and quietly snapping her sleeper back together so as not to disrupt her. Then there's Ben. All arms and legs and long body. 25 pounds of flailing toddler to wrestle and wrangle and pin down. Poops the size of Anna's head. Diapers bigger than the huge sanitary napkins they gave me at the hospital. He's a giant.

Anna is still a petite little thing. Less than seven pounds. Every once in a while, though, I glance down at her and it seems like she's grown again. Her cheeks are puffier, her head a big larger, her arms a little chubbier. I vaguely remember Ben being this small. And now he's not. You know what that means... soon Anna will be a toddler and no longer this precious little bundle that fits perfectly between my breasts as she sleeps while Mama blogs.

She's our last baby. We're not going to have another pregnancy. Maybe we'll add more kids to the family some day, but I'd rather adopt a toddler or preschooler. Save the babies for those families who weren't blessed with pregnancies and newborns. So she's it. The last perfect little wrinkly pink squalling babe that I can call "mine."

In ways, I'm cherishing every moment with her more than I did with Ben. The first baby was exciting and wonderful, but it was also overwhelming and exhausting (not that this isn't), and I was getting used to being a mommy. I'd stare at Ben with awe and delight, but I didn't realize how fleeting those moments would be, how empty my arms would feel when he stopped being content to just curl up in my arms to watch the world.

With Anna, I know that this won't last. If I close my eyes for too long, she'll be a little girl instead of just a little baby. There's something magical about newborns. A tiny clump of potential. I don't know what her personality will be like. For now, she's a treasure for us to nurture and love, and I'll love watching her evolve into her own person, but I still wish I could capture this time in a capsule to hold onto.

She's a week and a half old now, and she's almost completely to breast. She'll even nurse while she's sleeping, which seems like a miracle to me. I love watching her suckle when her eyes are open though. So curious and enchanted with the world, she moves her eyes back and forth and around to see what she can see, every once in a while, stopping on my face for a bit, and I feel like I've been given the most amazing gift. Those eyes are still a dark blue, and I can't help but wonder what color they'll end up. Ben's eyes were a muddy blue until after he was one, when they changed slowly to a deep chocolate brown. Maybe Anna will get Chris's blue eyes.

Time For A Story

Here's a more detailed version of Anna's birth story.

I was sound asleep when I felt the subtle "pop" down below that reminded me of Ben's "pop." Chris was still at work, as he is every Saturday night. I stayed in bed, not moving, holding my breath in wonder. After about three minutes, I had a sharp contraction that felt more painful than the ones I usually had in bed. When I shifted position to get out of bed to use the restroom, I felt the gush of water that confirmed my suspicion that my membranes had ruptured.

I waddled to the bathroom, fluid leaking slowly down my legs. After spending a minute on the toilet, releasing more of the water, I went slowly into action. I called Chris at work and told him it was "go time." I called my mother to tell her it was Anna's birthday. She needed to be called since she was going to be Ben's childcare during the labor and delivery process.

Since I hadn't taken a shower at all on Saturday, I stripped down and climbed on in, washing quickly and enjoying the warm water through a couple more contractions. Chris came home while I was in there, and boy, was he mad that I was on my feet. I told him to bite me. I said it could be hours before I delivered, and I didn't want to be stinky through that whole ordeal.

While Chris was running around like a headless chicken, packing our still unpacked hospital bag, gathering clothes for me to wear, etc., I dried off and got dressed again, then again since I quickly soaked my pants when the next contraction provided another deluge of fluid. Chris woke up Ben and got him bundled into his jacket and blanket, and we all piled into the car with me sitting on a much-needed towel.

I was contracting every three minutes, and they were quite uncomfortable. I was irritable and snapping at Chris for talking to me while I was concentrating. We live ten minutes from the birthing center, so the trip didn't take long. He got me a wheelchair, and our little family rode the elevator to that wonderful destination where they provide epidurals and drugs.

By the time I got undressed and into bed, my contractions were awful. The first thing I said to my nurse was that I wanted the epidural ordered as soon as possible. She said we'd have to wait for my doctor to get there and she'd have to check my dilation. Soon, I was contracting every two minutes, and I was crying and wailing through each one. The nurse checked me and said she had good news and bad news. The bad news was that there wouldn't be time for an epidural, and the good news was that I was already 8 centimeters dilated. I cried even harder.

Mind you, poor Ben was in the room for this whole thing. He was sitting on the couch on the other side of the room, bundled in his cuddle blanket, watching all the flurry. My mom lives 75 minutes away, but we were expecting hours of labor and time for drugs, so we hadn't arranged any immediate childcare for Ben. That was a mistake. By 2:40, I was screaming with every contraction, begging for drugs over and over again. The nurses took Ben out to the nurses station where he stayed and played catch with them and played happily.

Everything went so quickly, though it felt like an eternity to me at the time. I was on my left side, hanging onto the side rail for dear life while my body put me through the most awful agonies. Chris stayed behind me, massaging my low back as hard as he could. The only time I even felt like talking to him was to hurt him for yelling at me to breathe through the contractions. I couldn't concentrate enough to breathe. I have a low tolerance for pain, and I was in a total panic with how intense "transitioning" was.

Around 3:15, amid the terrible spasms, I felt a sudden burning down below, and my instinct was to crawl out of my body, away from the pain. I screamed, "The baby is coming!," and my nurse told me that it wasn't possible since the doctor wasn't even there yet. I told her I didn't think that would matter, and a whole rush of people came into the room, rushing to get ready. My doctor walked in at that moment and quickly suited up while everybody was yelling at me not to push. I still don't know how women manage not to push in moments like that. My body was acting on its own, and I had no control over it. I did manage to not push really hard, and they did get the bottom of the bed removed, my feet into stirrups and an incredibly quick cervical exam to verify that I was complete.

Five seconds later, another contraction rocked my body, and I pushed with all my might. I took a quick breath and pushed hard again, and in the middle of that push, Anna shot out like a torpedo. There wasn't a delay after the head was delivered where they could suck out her nose and mouth. There wasn't a pause for the next contraction. I felt a rush of pressure and felt her slithering out, all slick and bumpy. The ring of fire people talk about had happened before I had even gotten into position, since I was already crowning when I screamed that she was coming.

She was quickly put in an isolette where they rubbed her and sucked out all the gunk and vigorously handled her until she cried. They kept working on her while my doctor stood in front of me with her gloved fingers in my whacker, massaging me until I had another contraction when I expelled the placenta. They swaddled Anna and let me hold her for a second before they took her to the NICU.

My OB was shocked by the state of my placenta. She said it was what a 41-week placenta should look like. Very calcified and aged. "No wonder you delivered at 34 weeks." She hypothesized that I had probably never implanted very well.

She worked on cleaning me up, and ended up having to put in a row of stitches almost a centimeter long. Since I delivered so quickly, my skin had absolutely no time to stretch, and I ripped right open. Oh well.

After it was all over, I was just in shock as to how quickly everything went. And I was just a little miffed that once again, I probably wouldn't get a lot of respect from my friends about my childbirth experience. With Ben, I wimped out and had an epidural, so that birth didn't count. With Anna, sure it was natural, but it only lasted an hour and a half. :)

My mom arrived about 15 minutes after the birth, much to her shock and sheer surprise. She stayed for about 30 minutes until she and Chris got the go-ahead to see Anna for the first time in the NICU. Ben was wired like a top, and she took him home to wind down and sleep.

So where are things now? Anna was on her CPAP oxygen machine all day, though I went into the NICU often to hold her hand and touch her and marvel over how damn cute she is. Surprisingly dark hair and perfect features. They finally took her off the machine around 6 pm this evening, and they'll let me feed her tonight at 9. I've been pumping all day to get a supply going, and I'm looking forward to getting her to latch on so we can stop washing the darn pump parts.

Ben has visited me a few times when my mom brought over visitors, but he won't be able to see Anna until she's in my room and out of the NICU.

I can hardly wait to hold her close and nuzzle her. I've been beaming all day, happy as a lark and oh so proud. I have a daughter!

She's Here!

I'll write out a full birth story later, but for now, I'll just share the main points.

I kept contracting on Friday and yesterday, even with the procardia. My bedrest became more total, but I wasn't very uncomfortable.

My water broke last night around 1:45. We got to the hospital at 2:15. I was 8 centimeters dilated already, and they cruelly refused to even consider giving me any pain medication. :) Jerks.

At 3:15, my doctor hadn't come in the room yet, but I felt Anna crowning. I screamed, "That baby's coming," and involuntarily started pushing while they were shifting me over onto my back. My doctor jumped into her scrubs and quickly checked my cervix, but Anna was halfway through the canal already. It took a push and a half to get her out. She was born at 3:20.

6 lbs. 8 oz.
18.5 in.

She's doing quite well, considering how early she is. She's on an oxygen machine, and I haven't been able to hold her yet, though I get to talk to her and touch her a lot.

Isn't that a kick in the pants? Such an insanely quick labor. I'm doing okay. Started pumping already, and I'm already expressing a decent amount. Anna should be off of the machines by tomorrow morning.

A Mind of Her Own

So late yesterday afternoon, my Braxton-Hicks contractions changed in feeling. More like a burning. I called my OB's office to ask if I should do anything, and I was told to go to the birthing center to get checked.

I did. We were there by 4:45 pm. And I'm still here. My contractions were crazy regular, like every five to eight minutes. I was only dilated to a fingertip and very "thick", but they gave me shots of that "t" word stuff to try to halt the contractions. They didn't work, even after three doses.

I was off of drugs for the overnight for observation to see what would happen. I wasn't dilated anymore by morning, but my contractions weren't going away. My doctor ordered a course of magnesium and a shot of steroids to help Anna's lungs develop a bit more.

The magnesium hasn't been doing its job. An OB checked me around one, and I was dilated to two centimeters and thinning. They upped my dose of magnesium a bit, but there's not much else they'll try to do to stop labor from starting. I've been contracting regularly. They are tolerable, just uncomfortable. I'm only miserable because of the IV in my hand that hurts like hell and the fact that the IV makes me have to pee almost constantly and I can't just get up and go when I want because I'm hooked up to everything. (I refused the catheter.)

So tomorrow morning, they'll check me again. If I haven't dilated anymore, they'll probably send me home to wait for active labor to start. Isn't life interesting?

A Girl Grows In Wisconsin

Quick post to give you all the verdict. It's a girl!

Everything looked good on the ultrasound. It was a lot of fun... and I've been giggling ever since.

Have an awesome weekend everybody!

Another Meme plus Life Update

A meme I found on Allie's blog (http://curvatude.blogspot.com). I'm not tagging anyone for it because I don't want to annoy the crap out of people. I've included an update on my personal life at the bottom.

What were you doing 10 years ago?
I was 16. Yikes. I was getting ready to pass my driver's test. I was dating... someone. I think it was my ex-boyfriend who I kept going back to at least once a year. He was getting ready to graduate high school. I was being young and insane... although that was the summer that I went to the local tech school to get my nursing assistant certification, making me the youngest person to ever graduate from the program. I was really good at that job. While I was going to school, I was working at a local 3-in-1 fast food restaurant that had a pizza parlor, sub shop, and frozen custard counter. Ah, the memories.

What were you doing 1 year ago?
A year ago today I was being a new mommy to a small baby named Ben. He was five months old and very charming. I don't think we did anything special for Memorial Day weekend, although we may have driven up north to see my parents.

Five snacks you enjoy
1. Cheddar cheese chunks
2. Apples/oranges/bananas
3. Soft pretzels with nacho cheese
4. Ritz crackers
5. Chewy granola bars

Five songs that you know all the lyrics to
1. Elmo by Holly McNarland
2. The Blower's Daughter by Damien Rice
3. London Rain by Heather Nova
4. Brighter Than Sunshine by Aqualung
5. Hold On by Sarah McLachlan

Five things you would do if you were a millionaire
1. Pay off ALL of our debt, including the mortgage
2. Pay off my siblings' mortgages
3. Set aside a trust fund for the kids
4. Invest, invest, invest
5. Go on a couple of vacations

Five bad habits
1. Picking my nose in private
2. Picking at the dry skin on my lips
3. Picking at my face while I'm falling asleep (can you see the trend?)
4. Swearing at work
5. Not caring if the car is a pig pen

Five things you like doing
1. Tickling Ben
2. Cuddling with my husband
3. Gardening
4. Singing along to music in the car but only in goofy voices
5. Painting pottery

Five things you would never wear again
1. Shorts (it's a vanity thing)
2. Crocs
3. Really high heels (my husband is a quarter inch taller than me)
4. Sequins
5. Hemp necklaces

Five favorite toys
1. Laptop
2. Sandcastle equipment
3. Canoes and rowboats
4. TV remote
5. Ben is the best toy there is.

Personal Update: I had a baby checkup on Tuesday. My doctor, bless her, still couldn't get a reading on the heartbeat. Sure, that's not great, but the official party line is that we're not worried since I've felt the baby kick. Of course that just makes me freak out and think that maybe I didn't feel the baby kick after all. But anyway. I have another appointment near the end of June when I'll be 18 weeks and really showing, and we'll be scheduling the anatomy ultrasound at that appointment.

I really didn't want to go out of town this weekend. I hate traveling when I know the roads are going to be packed. Makes me feel like a lemming. But my dad called last night to talk to Chester. Dad had taken out the cable modem to replace it, and he couldn't get it back together again. Go figure. I have no idea why he tried to do it himself. Now we're driving up to Minocqua tomorrow to see my parents and fix the computer so my mom can get back online again. She's housebound because of her knee (replaced about a month ago). She can't drive or walk anywhere without a cane. She hasn't seen Ben in a month, so that will be nice. I'm just not looking forward to the hour and fifteen minute drive it takes to get there, which will probably take about two hours because of the traffic.

Have a fantastic weekend everybody! I don't know if I'll post again until I get back to work on Tuesday. We'll have to see.

Once Upon A Family. Baby Kicks.

Once upon a time, Mommy lived by herself in a nice-sized apartment with one and then two cats. She loved reading books, listening to books on tape, watching old movies, and cross-stitching.

Mommy went to school for a while and studied technical writing and journalism, and she worked at the school newspaper. She loved being the boss, and she loved having her own office. Life became really busy and noisy, so Mommy changed her and decided to find a different job that would make her happier.

So Mommy started to take care of a baby girl named Claire. She was so tiny and cute! Mommy drove thirty-five minutes every day to see Claire, but she didn't mind. It was so wonderful to spend the day caring for the needs of a little baby. Mommy would sing to Claire, dance with Claire, read to Claire, and give Claire hugs.

While Mommy was with Claire, she moved from the apartment by the university to an apartment in a different city to be nearer to Claire and her family. But Claire didn't stay a baby, and eventually, she started to go to a school for toddlers so she could be around other kids. Mommy was sad, but she still saw Claire three days a week. But Claire grew up even more, and Claire's mommy and daddy decided that Claire should be at the school all week long, and Mommy wouldn't need to take care of Claire anymore. That made Mommy very sad indeed.

Sometimes sad things happen to people, and they spend a lot of time being sad and unhappy. Mommy was no different. She was sad, but she also knew that life is full of blessings and miracles. Very soon after she stopped taking care of Claire, Mommy got a different job making other people's writing and designs prettier by taking out all of the mistakes. The miracle was that the new job made her just as happy as she was with Claire, but in a different way.

Mommy was still living by herself in a nice-size apartment with two cats. She still loved reading books, listening to books on tape, watching old movies and cross-stitching. But Mommy started to feel lonely. So Mommy went on the internet and made an effort to find Mr. Wonderful. After a not-very-long search, she found someone very special who loved Mommy very much, who also wanted a family, and who wanted to have a simple, happy life with Mommy.

Mommy and Daddy were married, and they wanted to start their family right away. They got their wish. Very soon, Mommy started to get a very big belly. Her belly grew so big because Baby Ben was inside! After Christmas, Ben was born and came out of Mommy's belly five weeks earlier than expected. But it was just the right time, and Mommy and Daddy finally got to hold and cuddle and kiss Baby Ben.

That little baby grew big, started to crawl, and then walk, and then run! Mommy and Daddy loved playing with Ben and having him around. They loved his smile and the funny faces he would make. And they decided that Ben might like to have another kid in the house, so Mommy's belly started to grow very big again. Another baby was on the way to join the happy family!

***
This morning while Chester was still in the shower, I sat on the kitchen floor with Ben and showed him the new magnetic puzzle I bought him earlier this week. The magnets are pictures of heavy trucks like bull dozers, zambonis, cement mixers, etc. It was so wonderful to be there with him and watching him discover new things. It gave me a glimpse as to what my life will be like when I'm home with him starting this fall. He was very serious and careful with the pieces... studying them and gently putting them on the fridge. He even helped me take them down and put them back in the box. It was a little piece of heaven, just for me.

Like yesterday, when I pulled my chair up to the keyboard at work. Little Baby gave me a big old kick, and I was startled and squealed a little bit. I've felt the quickening before, starting last week, but that was the first movement that wasn't just a flutter. I got a couple more kicks throughout the day, and it was marvelous. Like my own special gift. Something I get to experience before anybody else. It'll be a couple more months before Chester will be able to feel the kicks from the outside, so for now, I will continue to feel very special and get a flush of excitement when I feel this new little life grow inside. I've already been having fantasies of how wonderful it will be to hold a newborn in my arms again.

***
We never received any feedback from the center's director about our break-up letter. One of the teachers tried to talk us out of it by saying that they were planning on hiring more teachers for the Under Two room so Ben and the other kids his age would have the opportunity to get outside and play. Even so, they'd still be stuck for most of the day in that small room that doesn't have space for a table and chairs, the cots, the play equipment. I told that teacher that it would be a nice transition for him to go to a home daycare for the summer since he'll have to be staying home with me in the fall anyway. She could understand that, but she couldn't understand how disturbing it was to us that the center was going through such an upheaval.

Anyway. Tomorrow will be his last day, and I'm sure I'll cry a lot when dropping him off and picking him back up for the last time. We've grown so close to his teachers, and the center has been such a big part of his life. Ben won't understand why Mommy is crying because he's too young to understand he won't be going back there. Oh well.

I Swear The Baby's Not On Crack

Everything's fine.

The baby is measuring at 11w2d (I'm only supposed to be 10w3d). And the heart rate is incredibly fast at 171 beats per minute.

There's already an attached umbilical cord and everything. Very nice indeed.

There was much rejoicing in the land.

I had to go to the appointment by myself, and I was in agony beforehand. Why? The over-full bladder. I couldn't walk, and I was having horrible stomach cramps. I was bawling when I checked in, and they let me "release just a little." The ultrasound tech was so mad... she had told the check-in lady that I could void completely, that she could still get a good view as long as I had chugged all the water I said I did.

She had me lay down for a quick peek to verify that there was a heartbeat, and then I jumped up and was able to pee to my heart's content. Then I went back for the rest of the ultrasound. Bless her dear sweet heart.

Let's Put A Spin On This

My OB was unable to find a heartbeat at my 10-week checkup this afternoon, so she scheduled me in for an ultrasound on Thursday morning.

Positive Spin, brought to you by the enthusiastic, confident lady that I am:

I'm a heavy lady, and that makes it harder to find the heartbeat this early by doppler.
I'll get to see pictures of our little peanut, not just a sucky audio recording of a heartbeat.
I'll be reassured that, even though twins are always a blessing and a miracle, we will blessedly not be blessed with twins.
I'll still get to have another ultrasound at 18 weeks when we'll find out the gender.

So that's that. Thought you guys should know what's going on.

I promise I'll post by Thursday afternoon and let you know what they found. Oh. And hubby won't be able to be at the appointment with me because of a stupid contest his department at work is part of. It requires 100% participation from the department before they all get free shoes. And I'd have to be dying before they'd let him out of going.

Vomit, Heartbeat & Surgeries

I'm going to try to make this quick. I'm only at work for half a day, and there's a ton of crap to do.

I'll start out by saying, Yay. I made it to Week 10. Tomorrow afternoon I have my next check-up, and we should hear the heartbeat then. I'm very nervous and anxious about it. The appointment could go really well or really badly, if you know what I mean. I don't want to say my fears out loud. But they are definitely knocking around my skull today.

Ben was very cuddly and lethargic this morning when we woke him up. He stayed cuddling on me even while he drank his bottle. And then he vomited all over. Poor kid. Chester took the morning shift at home, and I'll be there this afternoon.

Funny thing about Chester not being at work this morning. The power has switched off and on twice already. No clue why. But from previous experience, I know that a power outage is enough to send the Systems guys into a freaking tailspin, and Chester is missing all of the fun.

We had a nice weekend that could have gone very badly. Chester's project was to replace the drain in our bathtub so we could give Ben a full tub bath. Before we just used an inflatable tub insert, but Ben's getting really acrobatic in the tub, and he doesn't have enough room. So we found out just how hard it is to retrofit a new drain into a tub that's over fifty years old. Not easy at all. I was finally able to take a shower last night, but it was tough waiting the whole weekend for that. We decided that if Chester couldn't get the thing hooked up properly by four in the afternoon, we'd stay at a hotel for the night. He finished by three. Ben had a terrific time in the tub last night. He especially loved floating on his back. We are going to have so much fun at the lake this summer.

We put together Ben's brand new radio flyer red wagon. He loves climbing in and out, but he wasn't too impressed with the whole riding around in it thing. He preferred to climb out and push it himself.

The weather was beautiful all weekend. I loved having the opportunity to air out the house a little. Hopefully, I'll get a chance to open the windows a little this afternoon since the house currently smells not of fresh spring air, but of hot dog and peaches vomit.

At this moment, my mom is in surgery getting her knee replaced. She calls it her Spa Week at the Knee Factory. She's 62 and very active, and not having full use of her knee for the past couple years has really sucked. We're going to Oshkosh on Wednesday to visit her in the hospital. She requested a cupcake so she can sing Happy Birthday to me.

Oh yeah. That's right. I'm turning 26 on Wednesday.

My sister is having her breast reduction surgery tomorrow. A long time coming. She'll be going from a 34H to a 34C. She's very excited. And I'm nervous for her. Last night I dreamed that I was able to switch places with her after the surgery so she wouldn't have to go through the pain and discomfort of the stitches and drains. I can't believe they do reduction surgery on an outpatient basis. I think it's crazy.

Okay. I think I've got you guys caught up on my life. Back to the proofreading grindstone.

The Gender Predictor

Friday afternoon was a gal chat fest with my sisters and my mom at my house. We talked about my new pregnancy, and I let it slip that I think we're having a girl. I said it's just a feeling I have, but I've also had three dreams where people come up to me to tell me I'm having a girl.

And then my mom said she had a dream that I'm having a girl, too. That clinched it. My mom and I have shared dreams like that all of my life. Could be considered prophetic, or intuitive. Whatever. I thought my mom's dream was nifty.

It wasn't anything poignant or dramatic. She was just walking past a baby laying on the floor, cooing and giggling. And she did a double take. Who is that baby? And then she knew. It was Cheryl's daughter. End of dream. Just a flash. But it was enough to send me spinning with joy.

Honestly, I'll be fine if this little fetus turns out to be another boy. Ben rocks, and it's tradition in my family and my husband's family to have two boys first. If anybody were to bet on the contents of my uterus, the odds would be in favor of a boy. My mother had two boys first. My brother had two boys. My in-laws had two boys. Chester's brother had two boys.

And, although I've had dreams where my daughter Somerset visits with me and plays with me, who knows. That might be my adopted daughter. I've always known that when we can afford it, I want to be a foster mom, and hopefully adopt. After all, we are shutting down the baby factory after this new little miracle comes out.

In other news, I told my husband that I still like the name Henry for a boy. And if we have twin girls, I want the other girl to be named Marlowe. That's a weird name that came to me when I was falling asleep Friday night. I think it's nifty. Marly is a cute nickname. I might get over it, though. Who knows.

Okay. I'll admit where I heard "Marlowe." I watch old studio movies from the 40s and 50s every night while I'm falling asleep. Chester turns off the tv when he comes to bed, but I find it easier to settle my mind with my movies on in the background. The viewing choice for that evening was "Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter" with Tony Randall, Betsy Drake and Jayne Mansfield. The blonde bombshell character, played by Jayne, of course, is named Rita Marlowe. I just like the way that name sounds when they say it.

Today is the first day of my eighth week of pregnancy.

And I was spazzing out a lot over the weekend about fears of a miscarriage. My best friend lost her baby when she was in her eighth week. And the thought of it happening to me scares the crap out of me. I made Chester go to the store to get a pregnancy test, just so I could be reminded that I actually am pregnant. (Yes, I know that a pregnancy test could still be positive if I was having a chemical pregnancy. I don't care. The test means nothing in reality, but it made me feel better).

Other reminders of the pregnancy helped as well. My breasts ballooned up last night and were very swollen and tender when I was trying to get to sleep. And I threw up again this morning when I was dumping out a bottle that had a bit of spoiled milk at the bottle. Still haven't gotten over that one.

Life's okay, though. Just one more month until that magical 12-week mark. I have my next prenatal appointment on the 23rd of April, and hopefully we'll get to hear the heartbeat.

The Doctor Said Congratulations

I was so depressed this morning. Took another HPT test, and it was still really faint. I was totally discouraged and almost canceled my appointment this morning.

But I went anyway. I peed in a little cup and went back in the waiting room to watch a Judge show. Fifteen minutes later, I was called back. Did the whole weigh-in thing (lost 15 pounds, wooohoo), blood pressure, etc. Then I sat there waiting for my Dr. She came in and said, "Congratulations."

Me: "Really?"
Dr: "Yes, really. It was positive."
Me: "Oh, thank God."

I'm three weeks pregnant. I have another appointment in two weeks to have the pelvic exam done. I stayed late this morning to do the OB blood labs.

Feels so surreal. I'm still terrified of losing this little one since it's so very early, but I do have a twinkle in my eye.

Exuberant Joy Over a Little Pink Line

According to Fertility Friend, I might be getting my period today. I've taken two negative pregnancy tests over the last few days. Today, I took another one. The little line didn't pop out from the slightly pink background (that fades in a few minutes), so I just hopped in the shower as usual.

I glanced down at the test again when I got out of the shower... and, wouldn't you know it, there was a very faint pink line where I really wanted it to be. Very faint. But, dammit, it's a positive. A weak positive, but it's there.

I would have just implanted yesterday, so it'll be a few days (at least) until the pregnancy is a bit more established.

Can't focus on that, though. All I know is that right now, I'm pregnant. And I've been crying for the last hour. Called my mom so she could start praying already. My due date will be around November 17th. I was five weeks early with Ben, so I'm thinking sometime in October.

Update: I couldn't wait, so I called my doctor's office this morning. I'm going in tomorrow morning for a urine test and a 15-minute appointment with my doctor.

Another Day, Another Cycle

I'm a VIP member at Fertility Friend. It's an online charting and calendar tool for those trying to conceive. I've been charting for a few weeks, but they do a cruel, cruel thing when you get your period. They erase your chart and make you start over. It was psychologically disturbing for me to see my chart start over. Sure, it's a new cycle with all new information, but finding out I'm not pregnant was tough enough. I don't know why it bothered me.

I started my period yesterday morning. It was a sad day, so I went on a TTC (trying to conceive) shopping spree. I bought a pack of ovulation test strips, more pregnancy test strips and one of those saliva microscope/ovulation predictor things. Dang it. I want to have another baby before 2008. I better get cooking. Chester is amused by my enthusiasm and determination. I don't think he realizes how tired he will be.

Since last night was a Walmart night, we went to Wendy's beforehand for dinner. We do that so Ben can eat dinner at a normal time, and we aren't out so late. We were enjoying a meal of chicken nuggets, salads and french fries, when a family of six children and two parents came in. The kids were all age 6 months to about 8 years old. Without the parents even having to direct traffic, the kids picked out a seat at a table, took off their coats and sat down. Then, while the parents were getting the food, they sat quietly and talked. When the little baby started babbling and flailing, one of the older children went over to sit by him and entertain him. None of the children was acting up, running around, bouncing off the walls, etc. Just very polite, well-behaved kids. I was rather intrigued as to why they all had the same haircut, even the girls. It's hard to speculate as to the reason for the across-the-board boy cuts. They were all in hand-me-downs, and they seemed to really appreciate each other's company.

The whole scene made me and Chester smile. It was neat to see the kids interact with each other. The family at the table behind us, two kids and an extra friend, were well-behaved, but more vocal. We heard a little brother ask an older sister a stupid question, and she told him to shut up already. Even that made us smile.

Siblings can be fun. I am seven years younger than the next oldest kid in my family, so I felt like an only child for most of my life. I didn't have a built-in playmate. I remember my older brother would dangle me over the stairs by my ankles, and my sister would help hold me down while they all experimented with pressure points (but they pinched, not pressed). Despite my own experiences, I know that having a brother or sister close to your age can be amusing and worthwhile. I know this because I see how my brothers and my sister interact as adults.

My sister and my older brother especially. I'm very jealous of their close friendship. They are both intensely loyal towards each other and have even bailed each other out of jail in the past. They like doing stuff together. They're friends, even though they are very different. It's the shared bond of blood and a past that bring them together.

I'm sure Ben will make a lot of friends throughout his life, but I'd like to give him more of a family, too. And I think I'll be quite happy with more than one kid. I like a little crazy chaos, and I think kids are a lot of fun. The more the merrier, right? Chester pales when I talk about this, and he clears his throat... "Uh... How many are you talking about?"

*Smile* We'll see, dear. Let's start with two and see how much fun that is.

In other news, Daycare has started to transition my baby boy into the toddler room. Now he'll be eating at a table with a tray and flatware. He'll take a single nap on a cot. He'll brush his teeth after lunch. He'll drink from a sippy cup and not a bottle. I'm sad about this, too. He's growing up way too fast.

This morning we had a hug-fest on his bedroom floor. I was getting him dressed, and he was squirming, so I'd take little breaks to squeeze him rock from side to side while grunting (that sounds a lot weirder than it actually is). He encouraged it by wrapping his arms around my neck and laying his head on my shoulder. Kept coming back for more hugs. Then, Daddy came up and joined the little party. Double the hugs. Double the giggles. Double the love. I wish I could freeze time on that scene and go back to it when I need a break from the hectic times at work or when Chester and I have stupid fights.

Update: Happy 100th Post!

Just me and my boy

Ben walked around the house clapping and shouting DADADADADADADADADADADA for about twenty minutes last night. Trying to get Daddy's attention so he would come out of hiding. But Daddy's in Milwaukee.

Last night and this morning so many things happened that made me miss having Chester around.

1. Went to Super Walmart to buy groceries and supplies. Because I'm not feeling well, I'm also forgetful, and I had to walk around that store four times to finally get everything I needed. If Chester had been with me, I could have sent him running for dish soap and a bottle brush while I waited in line to check out. Butnooooooooo. I had to move my big butt and get it myself.

2. When we got home, I had to strap Ben into his highchair so I could bring in our purchases. Usually, I just bring Ben in and Chester brings in the bags. This wasn't really a disastrous thing. I set The Boy up with cinnamon graham crackers, and he was quite content and happy to wait for Mamma to get back. I still don't like leaving him unattended though.

3. I don't know what it is that I do differently, but I can't get Ben to calm down and fall asleep very easily. It was about 7:30 last night. Ben was whiny and tired. I cuddled with him, offered him a nice, warm bottle or nuk, and waited for him to fall asleep. This is usually Chester's time to snuggle with Ben. My dear son squirmed and tried to get away from me for about ten minutes before he finally gave up the fight and fell asleep. If Chester had been there, it would have been two minutes of fighting and then sleep.

4. This morning, Ben woke up at the crack of five am. This is usually fine. I'm a morning person. But I don't feel well, dammit. Okay, Chester being here wouldn't have made any difference. It's our house rule that if the boy wakes up after three am for any reason, I'm the one to get up with him. I got Ben to take a nap at 5:45, though, and I went back to bed until six-thirty. My life would have been better if Chester was home because he would have gotten up at the normal time and could have done the morning preparation tasks (like packing for daycare) while I slept a little bit longer, like maybe six-forty.

5. Luckily, Ben was sleeping when I got up to take a shower, but if he had been awake, the showering process would have been a bit more difficult, and I would have missed Chester greatly. Even though I didn't need him this morning to take a shower, I did spend three minutes in desperate contemplation in the shower about how much better my life would be if he were home.

6. Maybe I would have actually made more of an effort to get Ben ready this morning if Chester had been there. But I let Ben sleep in until seven, and then just got him in his hat, boots, and coat. And he was still wearing his JAMMIES. Bad mommy. I packed day clothes for the nice people at daycare to dress him in, but it seemed so much easier to just leave him in his pajamas. It was such a rare event for him not to pee through a diaper and soak his night clothes. It still made me feel a little bit like a loser for bringing Ben to daycare in his jammies.

7. I had to bring the garbage can to the curb this morning. The handle is icy cold, and I wasn't wearing gloves. I also had to leave Ben in the car while I did it, and there's that whole leaving him unattended thing. He survived though. He was, however, wearing his snuggly ear flap hat, and he had obviously turned his head from side to side a couple of times, because the ear flap part was over his eyes when I got back. He was struggling mightily with that darn hat when I got back, and he was kind of pissed.

Three more sleeps before Chester comes home. I miss back scratches and hugs. I did enjoy sleeping diagonally in the bed, though.

(PG update) I took a Walmart brand pregnancy test last night. It was negative. BUT. It's still two days away from when those tests are actually supposed to work, and it wasn't the first morning urine. I'm still having all-day morning sickness and my appetite is almost nil (like with Ben). I haven't given up hope yet. My period isn't expected until Monday anyway.