When The Time Is Right...

It happened in a magical, painfully long yet somehow a whirlwind of an appointment.  I am now driving a Chrysler Town and Country.  Holy crap.
There is so much beautiful, usable, delicious space, I can't even handle it.

With all this space comes the next big question for our family - when is the right time to add another kid to this mix?

I know...  Some of you are thinking, "slow down girl, you just had a baby!"  But this baby is turning one year old in just over a month.  He's starting to cruise along the furniture, feed himself chunks of food and hold his own bottle.  Things that took Little Man so much longer are coming easily to toddler Vegas, and I'm holding on tight to my little guy as he speeds past babyhood.  Each moment he is so little and needy is more fleeting, and I know that before I blink he's going to be racing around the house causing havoc. In fact, I just lost an entire blog post because he thought it was hilarious to yank the cord out of the laptop while I said "No no baby, no no."  You would have loved it, but that's another story.

Look at how big they are!

I absolutely love kids.  I love being a mommy.  I love being a stay-at-home Mommy.  But Hubs and I still spend time here and there on date nights and kid-free evenings.  We are lucky to have moms and a dad that will watch the kids fairly regularly.  Not to mention that my in-laws never hesitate to just pop over to watch them for an hour while I go to the dentist, or if we're running late and need someone to pick up Little Man from the bus stop. With three kids though... that would change a lot.  Asking our parents to watch two kids is tough enough, but handing them three would be asking a very big favor, and something we'd have to ask them for sparingly. Especially as Vegas gets older and is more of a handful.

I know Hubs never really thought a big family was in his future. But there have been quite a few changes in his life since I dropped in, and he always rolls with it.  When I talk about having another baby, he is totally on board.  He doesn't even flinch (anymore) when I mention that four kids might be a great number.  We've talked a lot about when the best time to start trying is, and really there is only one obstacle holding us back at this point.

Me.

Being pregnant is beautiful and lovely, and all that crap.  But it is also 10 whole months of your life. Ten months where you are waffling between misery and elation, exhaustion and excitement.  I'd really call it a full year of your life, because letting your body recover from the train wreck you just endured during delivery is no piece of cake either.  So one year of your life.

And selfishly, I don't know when I'm ready for that year.

I want the baby. I can even do the newborn stage again. But I'm not yet ready to give up my body for a whole year. I'm not ready to feel sluggish and tired and worried, interspersed with all the goopy love stuff you feel.  I like wearing clothes that fit and feeling cute and sometimes even sexy. I like (the idea of) vacations and going out on the town and all the things you really don't feel like doing with a newborn or a giant belly-to-be.

And so I don't know when we will add another one to this crazy household.  Because change is scary and I hate it and I don't know when I'll be ready for it.  Even if at the end of it all, I get a beautiful snuggly little newborn again.  Even then.

But I do like the van.

Fun at my godparent's on the 4th!

My Postpartum Body and Mind

I think it is important to pick up my story shortly after I left off - the delivery room minutes after Baby Vegas was whisked away to the warmer to be cleaned and measured.  I don't think I could properly explain how different I feel after this pregnancy and delivery if I didn't describe my journey post-birth day.  Warning: A few medical details.  Nothing gory, but I do discuss boob-milk.  Your call.

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I watched them take Baby Vegas over to the warmer after Hubs cut the cord and the nurse encouraged him to whisper to the baby his full name for the first time, which I thought was kind of sweet.  Then came the hard part where I had to watch everyone coo over the baby while I got fixed up.  My doctor was very efficient and spent a good half-hour putting everything back in its place, and she let me know that the "damage" was not nearly as bad as last time so hopefully I would feel much better faster.  I had figured as much because she had taken much more care with me during labor, encouraging me to take it easy and not rush the baby out.

Watching Hubs and the grandmas hover around the baby while I was being worked on was so hard.  I wanted to grab him out of the warmer and snuggle him more... drink in the first moments of being his mommy.  But another part of me was terrified that during these first moments they would discover something wrong with him they'd missed in all the ultrasounds and tests.  My anxiety was through the roof and I just wanted to hear that everything was going to be fine.  My angel of a nurse stayed with me and kept talking me through the tears and encouraging me the entire time.  I could not have gotten through that first hour without her support.  It was a totally different than the support than Hubs was giving - but he wasn't actually capable of showing me that support.  I wanted that medical opinion, that voice of someone who had delivered dozens of healthy babies assuring me that this was no different than any other delivery and baby.  So even though Hubs would try to come over and reassure me, I kept shooing him back over to the baby and asking the nurse more questions.  I would assume that my nurse's support was something like what a doula or midwife would give, and it makes me want to look into that for future labors - I can't count on being that lucky twice!!

Eventually I got our baby back, and my family and friends all left for the night (err... early morning). I guess sometime during my labor the entire post-partum wing had filled up with mommies and babies, and we got shuffled to the overflow wing.  Worst. Room. Ever.  Instead of the lovely couches and rockers they'd showed us on the tour, we were shoved into a tiny closet of a room with an armchair that had seen better days and a few crappy chairs.  My nurses call button did not connect to the L&D nurse's station because I was in the men's surgery wing, and so it took forever and a phone call for me to even see a nurse.  It was a miserable little room, and poor Hubs woke up in the middle of the night and his back was so contorted from sleeping on the armchair bed that he couldn't even walk.  So here I was, less than 12 hours after giving birth and squeezing over on my bed to make room for Hubby to lay down next to me so he could get a little sleep.  Yeah, someone inform him of how many points I should have earned for THAT one!

We kept the baby in the room with us because I was determined to try breastfeeding.  I wasn't getting him to latch and the lactation consultants weren't at the hospital, so it was really frustrating.  Baby Vegas was so frantic when he'd try to attach that it was alarming to watch, and made me feel like he was starving (Yes, I know he wasn't, but it made me stressed out]. [Sidenote: That is still how he is before he eats, it is just part of his personality.]  We got a pump at the hospital and I decided I would exclusively pump like I had with Little Man.  A little more work, but still the same good antibodies in the boob-juice which is all I cared about.

You're allowed 48 hours after delivery in the hospital per insurance reasons, but by the end of the day we realized that we needed to get home to a real bed and also our Little Man.  So we checked out early and we were home when Baby Vegas was a mere 30 hours old.  We scored 3 packs of diapers, 20 bottles of formula, breast pump supplies, and a couple shirts for the little guy.  Then I got a ton of supplies for aftercare, my favorite being the icy pads - such a lifesaver.  Basically anything not nailed down in the room came home too... seriously, we were a little bitter.

When I got home I felt like I had this huge burst of energy, and was able to walk around and clean up and unpack a little.  Hubs' family came over and we all toasted with champagne (glorious!).  Everything was peachy, til I was late with a dose of my ibuprofen and I thought I would die.  The pain and the cold shakes were awful reminders that I had a baby less than 48 hours ago, and needed to slow down!!  Other than that one bad incident though, I was able to pretty much function as normal. I took medicine for the first week or two very regularly, and then tapered it off.

Pumping went well at first.  I was taking fenugreek, which is an herbal supplement that increases your milk supply.  It really helped me produce plenty of milk, but after three weeks of constant pain from rock-hard engorged breasts and clogged milk ducts I just had to stop taking it.  Pumping round the clock and being in so much boob-pain wasn't working for me.  So one night I skipped a dose, and it was like I had shut off a faucet - I went from getting 12+ ounces at a time to getting less than 2 ounces after a half an hour of pumping.  I was so disappointed that I couldn't maintain a supply on my own, but after several days of trying to bring it back up I decided it was time to stop pumping.  Of course, then my one boob decided it was time to leak constantly for a full day.  I put cabbage leaves on it (weird, I know) and it stopped leaking pretty shortly after that.  Between the daily pumping and what I had saved up in the freezer, we made it to 4 weeks before we switched to formula.  Considering that I'd really only (mentally) committed to 6 weeks, I was alright with the outcome.

As of 5.5 weeks postpartum, I feel like I am at around 95% now, but it really only took me til 3.5 weeks or so to get to this point.  Compared to Little Man's birth, I felt like I was Superwoman being able to walk around and function so well so quickly.  I am already down most of the pregnancy weight, I have only 3 pounds to go.  I have three stretch marks on my belly which I am curious to watch fade since they are fairly obvious from the front.  The only really lingering issues that actually bug me are that I wake up every night so sweaty and gross, which I've never done in my life.  I am really hoping that my hormones settle down soon so that stops happening.  And then secondly I still probably couldn't ride a bike or a horse or a shark... because after a long day of walking around or hiking through the woods I still get twinges of pain.  So there ya go - that's what its like over here in my body today.  Check back soon for a one-month update on Baby Vegas - hopefully I'll finish it before his 2 month birthday!!

The Grand Finale: Baby Vegas' Birth Story

Baby Vegas has arrived!  Right now I'm enjoying a cool glass of water while Vegas is laying across my lap in a milk-induced coma.  He has a poopy diaper, but I am forgoing changing it so I can update you guys.  I am so generous right?  Maybe by the time I'm finished, Hubs will show up and change it for me!

I'm so excited to share Baby Vegas' birth story - he has completely changed the way I feel about laboring and delivery. The weeks leading up to his birth were so filled with anxiety and fear, the nights I had contractions would have me flashing back to Little Man's birth and being terrified of what was going to happen next.  After his birth I finally understand why women don't mind having more than one child... hahaha.

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So it all started on August 17th - Baby Vegas' due date!!  Despite all my efforts and insistence that he might come early, nothing really happened til 9 AM on that Saturday.  I woke up feeling kind of "off" and having very mild contractions.  They stayed 10 or so minutes apart all morning and so I just enjoyed some trashy tv and relaxed in bed.  Hubs brought me breakfast in bed and I warned him that I was absolutely going to force out this baby today.  We called my mother-in-law over to watch Little Man at about 1:30 and my contractions were 7 minutes apart by then, so we sat around and chatted for a bit until we decided there was nothing much better to do than go to the hospital, ya know - just in case.  We figured they'd either check me and send me home, or maybe I'd be SUPER DILATED and just pop out a kidlet.  I was hoping for the latter but betting on the former.

Of course, I demanded we stop at WaWa for one last Slurpee just in case.  Oh, and we took the final belly shot photo, right on time!

40 Weeks and my dry-erase marker kicks the bucket.  Obviously time to give birth!!

So we got to the hospital at 3:00 and plodded over to L&D.  When she checked me out, I was only at 1 cm dilated (out of the necessary 10 cm, for the non-baby obsessed folk), but contractions were 5 minutes apart, and so I was told I needed to walk around the hall in the hopes that I would at least dilate to a 3 or 4 and be in active labor.  They gave me an hour and disappeared.  So Hubs and I walked.  And walked.  And walked.  L&D is a small area, so it got old pretty fast.  I debated getting into the whirlpool tub thing but the room was small and creepy.  Plus my contractions were starting to get a little more intense than they had been at home.  There was not another soul in the ward though, so it was a peaceful and quiet afternoon.

After an hour they came in to check me again and I was only dilated to 2 cm.  Dammit.  But my contractions were strong and still 5 minutes apart.  At this point I told the nurse I had no interest in going home and that I wanted to be admitted. (I know, ballsy right?!)  I told her that the contractions hurt enough that if I were at home, this is the point at which I'd be leaving to come back to the hospital to be checked again - so there was no point in leaving and coming back in an hour.  Luckily when she talked to my doctor they decided I could stay, but warned me that it would be a long boring night for me.  Whatever, I was going to have a baby!!!  So at 5 PM I text all the family and friends to alert them that I was IN LABOR getting admitted!  Then I sent Hubs to go get me some tacos before the doctor put me on an all liquid diet.  This would prove to be a terrible idea later, but was delicious at the time. Hubs was also terrified I'd give birth somehow while he was gone (a 20 minute trip in total), which had me cracking up.  Little Man's birth took 29 hours from when I was admitted to actually having him in my arms, so I wasn't really anticipating a rapid birth.

After our quick dinner, the contractions had picked up to the point where I was no longer enjoying them (you know, as a sign of impending baby) or able to shrug them off.  So they offered me stadol through my IV to take the edge off the pain.  I was eager for a little relief, but instead the stadol just made me feel insane.  I was giggling and crying in laughter, but then my thoughts were very fuzzy and disjointed.  I couldn't speak very well and then to top it all off - it didn't really do much for the pain at all.  Mostly what I remember of the stadol experience was how much I hated every minute of being on it.  I kept asking Hubs to remind me never to take it again.  Repeatedly.  And I begged the nurse to flush it out of me somehow.  She seemed skeptical of my intense dislike of the drug and tried to get me to "accept the feelings and not fight them" - but I couldn't ever get past that awful floaty and out-of-control feeling.

So then at around 7:30 PM they offered me an epidural.  Through the stadol haze I was in I tried to explain that I didn't want to get the epidural too early and slow down my labor.  I'm sure my slow speech and desperate attempts to keep eye contact despite the crazy feelings I was having really helped get my point across.  Anyways, the nurse assured me that an epidural would not slow me down, and besides - if I was planning to get one anyways, why not now?  No need to be in pain if I didn't have to be!  I was skeptical of her logic, having educated myself extensively through other people's birth stories and WebMD. But against my better judgement I told her to go ahead and call the anesthesiologist and let them know to come up "whenever".

All of a sudden during my next contraction I felt - and I swear I heard - a pop like a balloon bursting.  My water had broken (7:56 PM) and it took me completely by surprise.  With Little Man my water had slowly leaked for hours, but this time it happened all at once and felt so strange.  With the next contraction it felt like I got hit by a hammer.  They were coming harder and harder and I was gripping the rails of the bed each time trying to breathe through them.    It took another half hour for the anesthesiologist to show up and by then I was thanking my lucky stars that I hadn't waited like I thought I should...

Hubs held me and supported me through another contraction while I got the epidural.  The first attempt only took on my right side, so the anesthesiologist did some adjustments and then I had absolutely no feeling in my right leg and was numb in my left.  A couple bad contractions later and I was in heaven - I couldn't feel any pain at all.  Score!  I sat back and began to relax and then my family started showing up - my mother and sister arrived first, and then my mother-in-law.  They were all going to stay in the room during delivery, and then my best friend K and her boyfriend were going to be there in the waiting room (there was a limit on how many could be in the delivery room).  At some point, I started to feel very nauseous, and got some anti-nausea medication through my IV when my nurse noticed I looked a little green around the gills.  She scolded me a little for not talking to her about how I was feeling, because I'd been silently suffering through the nausea for over an hour.  That's when I finally started falling in love with my nurse - I seriously could not have made it through labor without her support.

Around 10:30 the nurse came in to check me since I'd had the epidural for two hours.  I was so busy chatting and enjoying time with the family I had dilated to 10 cm without even realizing it!  The nurse then suggested I was ready to push - but I didn't feel any pressure like I had with Little Man and didn't feel "ready".  So she just shrugged and told me she'd come back when I felt like pushing.  I remember sitting there feeling kind of shell-shocked - I just couldn't believe that any minute now I could be a mother of two and yet was still feeling pretty great!

At 11 PM I decided it was time to try pushing, even though I felt no pain and very minimal pressure.  I called the nurse into the room and we did two practice pushes along with my doctor (who I want to note, was the ONLY doctor in my 4 doctor practice that I hadn't met and was so nervous about going through labor with.) After the two painless pushes, both of them told me the baby was still very far up in the birth canal and it would be a long hard road of pushing if I kept at it.  Instead, they suggested I just wait around and see if he floated downstream a little before pushing.  I was all for putting off what I suspected would be a lot of pain, so they left and told me they'd come back in an hour or so.

At 11:30 I knew it was my last chance to try and convince Baby Vegas to be born on his due date.  Doctor G and the nurse came back in and we did two more pushes together before they informed me it was still a long road down the birth canal for Baby Vegas.  Sigh.  Off they went!

Then I just chatted for awhile with the family, dozed off a little here and there, and waited for Baby Vegas to get his bags together and start heading out.  His due date passed us by, and at one am the next morning I was finally feeling enough pressure that it seemed time to push!!

So the doctor and nurse came back in, and we started pushing.  My pushes were only effective about half the time, but they never made me feel like I was "failing" or being difficult - which was another huge difference from my previous labor experience.  The whole time the doctor just encouraged me through contractions but never tried to rush me through the process. My amazing nurse kept assuring me I was doing great and offering me anything I needed.  Hubs stayed at my left leg the entire time holding me and telling me he loved me (even when the nurse offered him a chair and I assured her he definitely did not need a break if I was not getting one!)  My right leg was alternately held by a nurse-in-training, my mom, and my little sister.

Eventually my nausea came back and I puked up those formerly delicious tacos. Ick.  But then I felt 100% better and was able to focus a little more on my pushes.  Unfortunately after an hour and a half of pushing I still hadn't made much progress.  I started getting worried then that my doctor would try to push me towards a c-section, which terrified me.  After every push I insisted there would be no need for a c-section, and bless that doctor's heart she just smiled and said that as long as the baby and I were doing well that there was no rush. And THAT is when I fell in love with my doctor.

Eventually my little guy started having tiny dips in his heart rate, and the nurse let me know that the cord might be wrapped around his neck.  That was the only moment where Hubs and I looked at each other with a little fear, but then she reassured me that everything would be alright and that the doctor would make sure he was okay.  At that point I joked to the doctor and nurses that every time they gave me an update on the baby they needed to end the sentence with "but everything is fine".  So they started doing that and it really helped out with a lot of my anxiety.

Finally at 3:15 AM the nurse suggested that we do a "tug-of-war" technique to help make my pushes more focused and effective.  She held one end of a bedsheet while I held a knot on the other end, then during my contractions I would tug on the knot as I pushed.  All of a sudden my pushes were moving him out - everyone started rushing around getting ready to welcome my little one into the world!   At 3:49 AM Baby Vegas finally arrived as my Hubs and my sister were both by my side.  The doctor immediately put him on my chest because we had decided to do delayed cord clamping (which means we waited until the umbilical cord stopped pulsing before cutting it) which was great because after that it was awhile before I got to hold him again.  Hubs bravely cut the cord, and then they took our little guy off to get cleaned up while I got repaired down below.  (All I will say about that is, that I fared much better than I did with my first birth.)

Baby Vegas was 8 lbs, 2 oz, and a shocking 22 inches long!  They had told us at his ultrasound that he was going to have hair - but holy moly, did he come out with hair!!!  We had our doctors and nurses check and double check everything about him, and he was 100% healthy and typical.  That amazing nurse stayed next to me for awhile while I urged the Hubs and family to stay with the baby, and she just kept assuring me of how wonderful and perfect he was in my ear, and it took everything I had not to dissolve into great big sobs.  I couldn't believe I had made this perfect little boy, that everything was going to be okay, that there was no great big hammer about to drop out from the sky and crush us.

Welcome to the world Baby Vegas - we've been waiting for you!

Check out that hair!!

And that folks, is how babies are born.  Or at least, this one baby, who has already become one of the most precious gifts I've ever received.  Which is why it has taken me three weeks to finish writing this post, because he has thrown us all into a whirlwind of falling in love with him, and being parents to two amazing little boys.  

My next few posts will be Baby Vegas-focused because I want to write about my post-partum recovery and how his first few days home have been... but then its all about Little Man again because we got the final date for his big IEP meeting!!!   Now that I've finished writing this monster of a post, hopefully I can crank these next updates out a little sooner!  

The Neverending Pregnancy, and IEP update

Still here, still pregnant.  I'm sure people are tired of hearing about how I'm tired of being pregnant at this point - especially since I am 11 days from my actual due date.  But I swear I never thought I'd stay pregnant this long.  I'm a relatively tiny person, and this belly has grown and gotten a life of its own - it is incredibly heavy and all in the front.  I get exhausted and feel like I am going to tip over while just walking around.

I am trying to make the best of it, I swear.  But I am just not the girl who is a happy Mother Earth type pregnant chick.  I don't hate being pregnant.  I'm going to be pregnant again at least one or two more times in my life.  But I definitely don't revel in the changes in my body and marvel over each little miracle.  Sorry.  I will power through it to get to the magical baby miracle at the end, but the whole gestating thing just isn't really my cup of tea.  I've been bouncing on a yoga ball, eating pineapple, and drinking cervix-ripening tea to get this party started.  Nada.  Baby Vegas is super comfy in there.  That makes one of us.  We did manage to have another Monday morning of terrible contractions, and these actually got to the point where we were minutes away from grabbing our gear and heading to the hospital.  Then they stopped, I went back to bed, and nothing has happened since.

Little Man had all his testings this past week.  He clearly qualified for all the categories of services they were testing for (speech, OT, PT, developmental therapy, autism therapy) and so I am anxious to see what will be said at our final IEP meeting on August 14th.  They want him to start school on time, so it is going to be a whirlwind of setting up services and getting him into a classroom before the 20th.  With my due date on the 17th, I don't know how much of the last part of this I'll be able to be involved in, so I'm hoping Hubs will be okay taking lead on this one.

Even though sometimes it is hard to quantify how Little Man has improved in the last year, I was so proud to see that he has made definite progress in certain areas that he was tested on.  When he took the ADOS (autism diagnostic) last time, he wasn't able to ask for the snacks inside the tupperware - this time he definitely knew how to "ask" for more cookies.  He also did much better at playing appropriately, reacted positively to the bubbles and the baby doll and was much more engaged.  It was still clear that he is developmentally not ready for the age-appropriate autism test, but I am so happy with how well he did overall.  His behavioral therapist was most pleased with the fact that throughout the various testings, Little Man didn't scream and throw a tantrum when confronted with new people and new surroundings.  Instead, he would cling to me or Hubs for awhile before warming up to the test-giver.  That is a HUGE accomplishment for Little Man, and very appropriate for his developmental age (which is around 2 -2 1/2).

This week promises to be a lot less eventful than last - we have an appointment with a pediatrician on Thursday morning to see if she is a good match for us.  Then of course our usual therapies and OB appointments, but nothing extra.  For the most part I will be trying to enjoy these last few quiet days with just me and my Little Man.

Monday Monday...

Happy 37 +2 weeks to me.  I am officially the most pregnant I have ever been, because I gave birth to Little Man at 36+6.  Of course, the minute I hit 37 weeks I got my first ever belly stretch mark.  Woof.  I also realized that I have been off for at least a few weeks while taking my weekly belly picture.  I should have been doing them on Saturdays but have been doing them on Sundays instead.  Whoops!  Too late now ;)

Thumbs up for full-term!

Anyways, there must be something labor-inducing about Mondays for me, because I am dealing with a few contractions today.  Awesome.  Although this week is a terrible week to give birth - I have way too much to get done!   Little Man has his IEP testings on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, plus a double therapy session on Wednesday.  And we're thinking we might end up in the city for a therapy on Friday which is two hours from my doctor and hospital.  So ideally, I need to wait til at least Saturday to start anything labor-related.  I sent a memo to the baby, we'll see if he gets it.

Ex didn't end up taking Little Man this weekend (and my head exploded), so we spent most of our time inside watching Netflix and getting our relax on.  At least, that was my weekend.  Hubs had to mow the lawn and change the oil in the cars and a bunch of chores... although he did manage to get me out and do a little shopping on Sunday afternoon.  I think he regretted me being there as we walked past the aisles of baby clothes and I had to stop and coo at every single adorable little outfit.  Luckily I resisted the urge to buy anything - between hand me downs and gifts this baby is going to be ridiculously well-dressed.

I'm off to do some chores of my own - Little Man slept til noon today so we have gotten nothing done around the house.  Not that I'm complaining... I'm going to miss the occasional lazy day one the littlest little guy gets here.

I am going to lose my schmidt.

I am at a boiling point again with Ex and its just... not working.  I am repeating my favorite Ex-related commandment to myself on loop - "Thou shalt not complain too hard, lest thou get even less help than usual." 

It's not working.  Plus, I'm about to give birth to a baby whale*.  STRESS.

*He's in the 60th percentile now, but at some points he has measured in the 80th.  I know, you're clenching your thighs together right now worrying about this too aren't you?  No?  Maybe that's just me.

Ex was supposed to take Little Man two weekends ago, but my mother came into town last minute and wanted to spend time with all of us for Little Man's birthday.  So I text Ex and let him know that we'd keep Little Man for that weekend, and he could have the weekend after.  Easy peasy switch?  No, he said he'd just skip his visit altogether so we could "stay on schedule".  Erm... schedule?  Whatever dude.  So obviously since he hasn't seen him this month we were eagerly anticipating our (ideally) last kid free weekend before the baby gets here.

High hopes that were dashed, when I got a text last night that "something came up" with his new place and he is homeless again so he doesn't know about this weekend.  -____-  I guess the only bonus points he gets are for texting me on a Tuesday night instead of the day before pickup.  But really, now he is a full month behind again with support (not that he ever caught up from before) PLUS he hasn't seen the kidlet in a month.  RAWRRRR.

Did I mention that while I am writing this I am contracting like a mo-fo?  And Little Man is currently going through a stage that I am fondly calling the "F-You Fives", which consists of screaming bloody murder for hours until he is hoarse and I finally give in and plop him in front of Super Why until he calms down?

Yeah.  Things are a little stressful at my place today.  Ex is supposed to be our sitter during the whole "giving birth" thing I'm about to go through, and if he doesn't get his life together and doesn't watch Little Man, I will seriously consider ripping his face off.   It has come to that point, in my very stressed out, pregnant brain.  

Anyway, my contractions are starting to come on a little more strongly, so I think I should start timing them or something.  Send me good thoughts, and hopefully Ex will pull through for us if things start happening!

False Labor and Other News

The house is done.  Did you hear that??  IT'S DONE!!!  All the projects, all the goals - we've finished them all!  Our 40 point bullet list of random requirements I'd come up with before I would allow this baby to arrive is finished (And you can bet Hubs is thrilled).  I am so happy I could kick my heels together.  Or I would, if I could move my massive belly off this couch.

The nursery is finished and looks fabulous.  I am so pleased with how it turned out... the decal on the wall looks fabulous, the furniture all works together, all the baby clothes (up to size 6 months!) are neatly washed and put away, and I bought a copy of "The Giving Tree" to display on his little baby bookcase.  I will say that I have a few decorative touches I want to add, and we will eventually need a little end table in there for my magazines and breast pump supplies - but these are so minor I'm not considering them "unfinished".

We also just finished our last exciting weekend before the baby arrives - two of my friends threw an amazing baby shower for us on Saturday - Vegas themed, of course!  It was a such a fun shower, and so thoughtful the girls to throw me with all the hectic summer craziness going on! It sometimes amazes me that my friends down here are people I've only met in the last 2 years, because I couldn't ask for better ones.  From the shower, to handmade baby gifts, to offers to help watch Little Man if our pregnancy plans go haywire... my friends are all awesome.

That night we came home and made a big list of things we wanted to go to Babies R Us and pick up before the baby arrives, and then the next day was a 3 hour long shopping spree.  Jumbo boxes of diapers, breastfeeding supplies, waterproof mattress pad covers - all the boring things you don't get at showers.  We also spent a ridiculous amount of time comparing double strollers to make sure we'd picked the perfect one for a growing 5 year old who will still need a stroller + a baby seat.  We went with the Graco Ready2Grow despite looking at a few more pricey options, so I'll let you know how that works out.

We came home after a seafood birthday dinner for the Hubs (Happy Birthday love!) and unpacked everything, put together the rest of the nursery, and I settled down for what I'd hoped would be a solid ten hours of sleep.  Instead, I had intense contractions all night long.  It was like my body knew that everything was "done".  Eventually Hubs woke up and was so scared nervous that he couldn't get back to sleep either.  Then at 3 AM, Little Man woke up in a crummy mood.  It was a long, long night.  Since around 6 AM Monday morning I haven't had any further contractions, so we're hoping he's snuggled down in there til at least 37 weeks when everyone will be more comfortable.  But like I said - everything is done, so he's welcome anytime now!!

I have a great plan for announcing when I actually go into labor that will hopefully make a few of you laugh, and I am bouncing off the walls with excitement to finally meet our littlest dude.  25 more days til due date, so send me all your good vibes!!

Oh hey 32 weeks - I remember you!

Here we are - 32 weeks pregnant and exhausted.  I am seriously over all the peeing too.  I feel like I never stop peeing.  Even if I don't drink much, I have to pee.  And if I drink the recommended amount of water, it is like I have my finger over a hole in a dam and every time I stand up I take it off and need to rush to the bathroom.

The pre-nesting organization kick I am on hasn't stopped either.  Monday I went through my spice cabinet and made an Excel spreadsheet with a list of every spice and how much I had in alphabetical order.  Then I did the same with my freezers.  Out of control I tell you.

Of course, these little bursts of energy are followed immediately by me plopping onto the couch and watching seven episodes of "Snapped", stopping only when my husband gently hints to me that he fears for his safety since I now know all the ways in the world to kill him and hide the evidence.

I should admit that I am fortunate to have the most patient husband ever.  We are complete opposites when it comes to sleep schedules and he has definitely overindulged my love of sleep and laziness throughout the pregnancy.  He has been the one to wake up with the dog and the kidlet every weekend while he lets me sleep as late as I want to... then he stays up as late as he can so he can watch movies and cuddle with me.  He has also been dealing really well with my need to make list after list of tasks to complete before the baby gets here.  And the crying that ensues in the middle of the night when I think of what we haven't prepared for yet.  Yep, he's amazing.

There is very little left to be done (I feel like this has been my mantra to Hubs over the past few weeks to convince him to keep going).  Hubs is going to paint and finish the last of the big projects during his week off of work, and then comes my favorite part - organizing tiny little outfits and diapers in bins and drawers, setting up the crib and the nursery.  My in-laws have been amazing throughout this pregnancy too... as I purge the house of everything that isn't treasured or nailed down, they've made at least 5 trips over here to fill up their truck and take things to the Goodwill.  We must have given away an entire second house by now, and it is incredible how great it feels to get rid of things you know are just sitting around and you'll never use again.  It has taken a bit longer than we originally thought to get everything finished - but really it is my fault because I keep thinking of "just one more thing"... Hahaha!

Back to watching one of my guilty pleasure shows - "Campus PD".  Today is definitely one of my lazy days.

The One Where I Got To Practice

Last week was an adventure to be sure!  We had a great time grilling out on Saturday with our families and a few of my girlfriends to celebrate Baby Vegas.   Food, chocolate, gossip, and gifts - what's not to love?!  I was so excited to have everyone over I seriously overdid it on the standing and running around, and paid for it dearly the next day.  I spent most of Sunday in bed with sore feet and an aching back.

Me and Hubs!

Monday and Tuesday one of my girlfriends needed a sitter for her little one while she worked.  Her daughter is five months old and the cutest thing I've ever seen, so I jumped at the chance to watch her.  Of course, Monday was astonishingly easy... she ate, she giggled, she slept, she smelled so good I wanted to eat her (Little Man, I love you, but you smell like a Big Kid)... after her momma picked her up I called my own mom and bragged about how I was the baby whisperer.  No really.  I was a freakin' genius with the babies.  I even managed to cook and do laundry. YOU GUYS BABIES ARE SO EASY!

Then it was Tuesday.  And the baby came back for Round 2. Which she won, hands down. She was still really cute, she smelled good, she was really snuggly...  But she didn't have her magical go-to-sleep-binky.  So she didn't sleep.  She just wanted to be held, or she would cry.  Which made my Little Man cry and cling to my leg in response to the noise.  Which made my dog bark at the insanity of two crying ickle beasties.  YOU GUYS BABIES ARE SO HARD!   So my husband came home early from work arrived in the nick of time so we could divide and conquer the tiny humans. [And I should note here that if I hadn't already been pregnant, the sight of my husband cooing at and carrying a tiny little baby would have gotten me knocked up immediately.]  When I talked to my mother that night I implied that perhaps I will be letting Baby Vegas stay in my womb until he is two or three and I am ready to take care of him.

So the rest of the week seemed uneventful after my babysitting adventures.  I had an OB checkup where I found out I am finally gaining weight - 4 lbs in two weeks!  Yikes!  It actually still leaves me under where the "average" weight gain is for 32 weeks (+13 overall) but I am not really thrilled it is all showing up so fast!  If I look at my weekly pictures though I can tell I've finally "popped" and gotten that preggo-belly, so hopefully that's where I put most of the poundage.

See!  Belly-time!

Then on Friday the baby girl came back over for a lunch date (with her mom and another friend of mine), and was such a precious little angel I decided I would let Baby Vegas come out of the womb on time after all.  Not to mention it is getting seriously crowded in there... he is a pushy little fellow!  His kicks and movements are almost sharp, and very aggressive - I definitely don't remember them being like that with Little Man.

So overall, baby-sitting was a great success.  I got to help out a great friend of mine, snuggle with a cute baby, and remember that despite the occasional rough patch with a little one, it is all worth it when they smile at you and fall asleep.  I cannot wait to have a sweet-smelling bundle of newborn baby in my arms come August.   And I will definitely be baby-sitting again sometime, although perhaps I will not be so quick to name myself Baby Whisperer...

Is It Really Almost June?!

I can't believe June is about to arrive!  My third trimester is finally here and I'm waist-deep in preparations for Baby Vegas to make his appearance on the scene.  We've finished almost all of the To-Do List of things I wanted to accomplish before I get too pregnant to be of any help - the last big push will probably be this upcoming weekend when we clear out the old guest room.  Once that is done we get to paint and turn it into the nursery, so I cannot wait to finish up!!!  We got a 6' tall tree decal that is going to go on the wall, plus a few other decorations that will make our "Giving Tree" themed nursery really adorable.  Pinterest and Etsy are giving me a ton of ideas that I want to try too... but both of those sites are dangerous to anyone on a budget!  I want to buy all the things.

In the midst of the organizing, we took Little Man up north to an appointment with a sleep clinic.  Hubs and I both went into the day with high hopes, and we both left more than a little disappointed.  Basically we spent two hours retelling a behavioral psychiatrist and then a neurologist Little Man's entire medical history and sleep habits.  Then they both came back with all of the usual ideas that we've tried, tested, and had fail on us.  The only real information we got out of the day was that it might be a good idea to try melatonin after all, and that Little Man snores because he has slightly enlarged tonsils.   And really the screaming and kicking involved in finding the latter out was definitely not worth it.

Blurry cellphone photo of me and Little Man on the train for "Day Out With Thomas"  I'd have written about the day, but he was sick and grumpy.

I also ended up not auditioning for a show I really was hoping to audition for.  I had convinced myself up until last week that I could totally handle being pregnant and rehearsing for a show that would open less than a month after my due date.  Every single person I talked to about it seemed to think I was insane (perhaps a clue?), but I was sure I would be just fine - how hard would it be?!?!  Well then a few days before auditions I ended up getting the worst round ligament pains I've ever felt.  They were bad enough that even trying to stand up straight left me completely breathless.  I knew it was probably because I'd been running around like a madwoman trying to finish household projects and not taking the time to rest and hydrate like I normally do.  So I reluctantly admitted to Hubs that I can't do everything and that I would skip this one.  I was so bummed out and grouchy for the entire weekend thinking about missing out on yet another show, but in the end I know it was for the best.  Making a selfish decision would have felt great in the short term, but come August when the baby arrived I knew I'd be kicking myself for not setting aside more time for our home and family.  I'm still working on squelching the green-eyed monster feeling I have going on as people talk about how much fun it will be working on shows all summer.  I think it will be easier once I get a little rounder and unable to move without groaning - then I'll be so glad I don't have to leave the house I'll probably laugh if you remind me about how I was upset about not being able to rehearse three days a week in the heat of the summer!!

Until then though the next few weekends will be insanely busy - we have plans at least one day every weekend until July!  I can't wait to spend time in this beautiful weather with my friends and family.  I was a little worried that we'd have nothing to do on the weekends since a lot of our summer weekends usually revolve around concerts and wine festivals that aren't especially pregnant-lady friendly, but I should have known better.  Just because I can't party like a rockstar doesn't mean I won't be partying at all!

Before heading out to a pool party to kick off the summer!

But What If I Fall Off A Roof??!

As any pregnant woman will tell you, a lot of the crappy part of pregnancy is the worrying. There are the major worries of course, which I don't even need to mention because honestly, if you haven't thought of them yet I don't want to remind you about them. There are also the "I read too much of the baby book and now anything can happen" worries. You freak out over deli-meat and soft cheeses, and whether all the wine you drank before you found out you were pregnant is going to mean low SAT scores for your baby genius.  Are you getting too fat, or too thin?  Am I "prone to stretch marks"?  What if I sleep on my right side instead of my left? What if you vomit during your glucose test because that juice is disgusting?  What if my water breaks while I'm in the bathtub and I don't even notice?!  What if, what if, what if...

On one hand, I've noticed the worrying decreases significantly with a second pregnancy.  Specifically, those irrational worries.  For example... I'm hungry. Give me that Subway sandwich before I rip your face off, bacteria be damned!    Oh and look, I'd forgotten about those stretch marks until now, I guess they're back...

I've mentioned before I adore my OB, and he spends every minute of our seven minute monthly visit entertaining all of my questions - from the serious to the truly ridiculous.  I leave feeling confident and pleased that my baby is healthy and I am apparently amazing. 

There is one worry that I can't shake though, and no matter how many times I rephrase the same question I can't seem to get a satisfying answer.  It reminds me of the scene in the Tim Allen movie "The Santa Clause" where he is talking to his elves in the workshop.  To enlighten those of you who need a refresher on this 1994 classic - he's being walked through all the new developments the elves have made throughout the year to ensure his ultimate safety as the new Santa Claus.  A new flame retardant suit, a fancy communication system, jetpacks... he's ready for his first season as the Claus.  Except, poor Scott Calvin wants to know what happens if he falls off a roof?!  After all, that is what got him here in the first place, and why he's so worried about safety to begin with... so why isn't anyone working on something that will keep him from falling off a roof?  The elves shrug off the worry and the problem is never really solved.

That story sums up how I feel every time I go into a doctor's office.  I know that my doctors have done every test possible to try and discover why Little Man was born full-term with a brain hemorrhage that they normally only see in preemies.  They've checked me down to the genes, and they've given Baby Vegas extra long and detailed ultrasounds.  But there is no answer to why things happened the way they did for Little Man, and so there is no way of predicting if it could happen again to Baby Vegas.  The best answer to my fears is "It probably won't happen again."  Little Man was most likely a lightening strike, a one-in-a-million.  They told me in the NICU that he was only the 2nd full term baby they'd seen with a Grade IV IVH.  Ever.  At one of the best hospitals in the nation.  That same hospital told me they simply have no answers for "why?"  It just happened.

So... there is no way to prepare for it to happen again.  I simply have to go through this pregnancy, terrified that I will "fall off the roof". I can pray, I can hope, I can take all the tests and eat my vitamins.  That is all I can do. Odds are good that I will finish this pregnancy with a healthy and happy baby.  I appreciate every doctor and friend who has reassured me with positive feedback about my pregnancy so far.    But if you ever see the crazy, panicked look in my eyes, it's probably because I'm desperately wishing that anyone could reassure me that I'm never going to fall off a roof again.

Just a Bottle Full of Sugar...

Ugh.  I cannot express in words how much I hate the glucose test you have to take for gestational diabetes.  I already have a horrible gag reflex - combine that with not eating my usual carb-filled lunch and a thick fruit punch flavored sugary syrup and you've got a recipe for dry heaving.

The rest of the appointment went quickly.  At 25 weeks 3 days, I'm up +9 lbs from my pre-pregnancy weight, and the baby's heartbeat is nice and strong.  I only get one more monthly visit and then we're on to the every-other-week and weekly ones.  They freaked me out today and scheduled appointments all the way til 3 days after my due date, which made me shudder a little thinking of how doooooone with pregnancy I'll feel then.

After the glucose test I got tacos and root beer as my reward for a job well done.  Somehow Hubs got a taco too, I guess as a reward for dealing with my freaking out all day winning personality.  Hmmm.  Someone got the better end of the deal there.

Shortly after this picture was taken, the Old Navy flip flops were retired.  May they RIP.

The last few days we've been trying to figure out what is wrong with Little Man.  He woke up on Thursday and Friday nights screaming bloody murder and nothing could console him for over an hour.  The last time he did something like that (Sept 2011) we ended up taking him to the ER and finding out a week later it was a shunt malfunction, so of course I was terrified that we were in for a repeat.  Luckily (Erm. I guess?) on Sunday morning he woke up with a runny nose and cough, so it is looking like maybe he just hadn't been feeling too hot and it is gonna be a bad cold.  Ex took him for a day visit on Sunday anyways though, since it had been ten weeks since he last saw Little Man.  Then that night he came home and puked all over his bed in his sleep.  Gross, but at least then I could attribute the crankiness and late night wakeups to something more concrete - he felt yuck.  So now we're just in the stuffy/runny nose and sleeping late stage of the cold, and Little Man never complains when he doesn't feel well so it is pretty much business as usual with a side of Boogie Wipes.  I hate that every illness immediately has me jumping to "Ohmygod, is this an ER visit?", but since the symptoms of shunt malfunction are nearly identical to those of a bad flu, that's life for the next few years and/or until he can talk and tell us his head hurts.

In case I don't see you... Happy Mother's Day weekend to all the mothers out there!  If you're thinking gifts, I enjoy a good cinnamon bun, bubble baths, and tulips are my favorite flower.

Ending Any Suspense...

What a profile!

Last Monday afternoon, we made the trek up to Baltimore for our anatomy ultrasound!  We were both nervous and excited - and split evenly on whether we wanted to see girl-parts or boy-parts.  Hubs was dead set on BOY and I was imagining frilly dresses and finally PINK THINGS!  Of course, we were both hoping for healthy and symmetrical brain ventricles, 10 fingers and 10 toes, and all the other cheesy things you say about healthy babies.  What?  You don't wish for symmetrical brain parts when you're looking at your 20 week ultrasound?  Trust me, you should add that to your list.

Little Man came with us, and we managed to ply him with enough Cheerios, Thomas movies, and fruit snacks that during the entire process, which took about an hour, he barely made a peep.  Even the ultrasound tech was impressed.  She had a student shadowing her who did some extra pictures of Baby Vegas, so we have about 7 pages worth of blurry alien anatomy photos.

But of course, Hub's favorite photo is probably the one taken from underneath Baby Vegas' little tush, where there are BOY PARTS looking back at us clear as day.  IT'S A BOY!!!  He told me that was the point that his nerves/excitement finally settled down and he was able to relax for the rest of the ultrasound.  I noticed he tried hard not to gloat too much, but he really couldn't hide the ear-to-ear smile very well.  To be honest, I wasn't too surprised it was a boy.  We'd only picked a boy's name, and I'd been certain from the get-go that as much as I was hoping for a little girl,  it would be a boy for my brother.  I am thrilled that I will get to name Baby Vegas after him, and that he'll always know the story of his amazing uncle.  If you knew my brother, you'll laugh because we're using my brother's name as the middle name - perfect for whenever Baby Vegas is getting into trouble, just like his namesake!

My absolute favorite moment of the day was after we knew Baby Vegas was a boy, when I looked over at Hubs and he was fingerspelling our new son's name.  My entire family signs and so we've been teaching Hubs during our Friday night family dinners... so far he knows his alphabet and a few crucial nouns!

My least favorite moment was being told that my ultrasound was extra-long because it turns out I have marginal placenta previa.  I knew the gist of what it meant fairly quickly, from years of watching "A Baby Story", but it still was alarming.  Luckily most cases of marginal placenta previa resolve themselves before delivery as the uterus continues to grow, so they told me to go home and not worry until a repeat ultrasound at 32 weeks.  I'm still a little on edge about it all, but trying to reassure myself that everything will be just fine.

So there ya go - it's a boy, and we're so very excited to bring Little Man's little brother home in 18 weeks!!  I've been going through all of the newborn clothes we have stored away and it's making me all snuffly and ready for the new-baby snuggles.  Speaking of snuggles, there is a big brother who is ready for naptime and trying to wiggle his way onto my lap...

Monday Ramblings

It's finally snowing??  On March 25th?  I'm not even the tiniest bit excited by this.  I am so ready for Spring weather, lighter clothes, no jackets, and flip flops.  It somehow is infinitely easier to wiggle an almost 5 year old into his car seat when you don't have to whip off his bulky jacket or shield his head from the rain and icy wind.

As of yesterday, Baby Vegas and I are cruisin' along at nineteen weeks - and we're in the honeymoon phase for sure!  I feel BV kicking and swimming all the time, and I have a little belly, but other than that it is hard to remember that I'm really going to have a baby in 21 weeks!!  Well, except when I want sushi and wine.  Which is kind of always.  I always want sushi and wine.

Check out my haircut, it's my favorite part of the photo.

I haven't bothered to take the 19 week picture yet.  So this picture at 18 weeks is the most recent "belly shot".  I've been pretty lazy in regards to pregnancy documenting, so I haven't even done a baby book this time.  I assume this means I'll have a girl, and she will  be horrified that all of her friends have detailed baby books and timelines of their growth in their momma's belly from Pinterest -and I was a slacker.  But it will be a life lesson for her - some people suck, and sometimes it is the people you love.  So there isn't anything you can do about it, you have to love them anyways.  Now check out these sweet Instagram photos of what I was eating while I was pregnant with you - that's entertainment!

Today is Passover.  Or tonight is, or something.  Everything I know about Passover I learned from the Illustrated Children's Bible in 1997 - so I am a little hazy on the details.  Also I am Christian by birth, Episcopalian by marriage. (I confirmed that with Hubs before I typed it, we aren't very observant if you can't tell.)  But Hubs, Little Man, and I got invited to a Passover dinner tonight and so I am trying to brush up on the details before I head out.  In semi-related news, Hubs was horrified to find out recently that I have never been baptized - way to go Mom!  That is way worse than not giving your kid a baby book.  Of course, Little Man isn't baptized either.  So apparently at some point in the near future we are all getting a good sprinkle of holy water *just in case*.  I hope this doesn't ruin seating arrangements upstairs (I mean WAYYY upstairs) because I am fairly sure my sister and brother will not be getting baptized and I am hoping we all can still hang out together in the great beyond.  Then again, if the "lets plan to get you baptized" takes as long as the "lets plan to clean the storage room and the baby's room and your office"... I probably have a few years to worry about it.

That was a passive aggressive hint to my husband that we still haven't done anything to the mess in this house.   I wonder if he's waiting until I am too big to move around and help him at all.  Maybe he wants to spare me the hard work?  Hmmm...

On that note, I am going to get back to laying on the couch watching Thomas the Tank Engine and listening to Hubs type away for work. I have priorities.

Things are fine! Yay modern medicine!

I went to my regular OBGYN this week to talk about my new diagnosis and information.  Besides the simple fact that I am in love with him his talent, he is amazing at putting me at ease quickly and calmly.

I don't think my OB is for everyone - in fact, when I describe him to people sometimes they seem horrified.  But he is perfect for me.  He answers questions quickly and with a confidence that leaves no room for doubt - which is what I need!  And sometimes when I double check (hey, I'm slightly neurotic!), he shoots me down with a laugh and quick shrug as to indicate that I am actually being neurotic.  I love this.  

Example:  

Me:  I found out I have that prothrombrin thing... and I am a little concerned I am going to need to take blood thinners, and I hate shots... and I am um... kind of freaked out that my baby isn't okay in there?

Him:  Did they put you on aspirin?  Anything?  Nah, you're fine.  Not a big deal.

Me:  But after delivery do I need to take blood thinners?

Him:  Probably not.  Blood thinners have their own set of complications and you don't need to be on them without a good reason.  Which you don't really have.  Lemme ask you a question you won't know the answer to - how many kidneys do you have?

Me:  Two.

Him:  You think you have two.  Plenty of people have gotten in car accidents and then they find out hey, I've got one kidney!  What do I do now??  Nothing.  You do nothing, you were fine before and you're fine now. Same with you.  You know something a little scary about yourself that most people would go their whole life not knowing, but we're not gonna have to treat something you don't have symptoms of.  

So I feel much, much better today.  We did go into a few details about how delivery will be monitored a little more closely and such, but he said we'll go over it more as the day gets closer.  Next visit is the dreaded glucose test, which I tried my hardest to get out of with "Well don't I look plenty healthy to you???"  Apparently not.

Finally, I am working on a post about Little Man and Ex that is taking all the strength I have in the world.  I am really trying to not make it a crazy rant about how much Ex is pissing me off lately, and actually make it about the topic I am discussing.  We'll see how that one goes when I post it.  

Happy (??)  Ides of March!  

Skinny Genes - Part Deux

Today was a fun visit up north to good ole' JHH.  We met with specialists in genetics and maternal-fetal medicine to discuss pregnancy outcomes, and the results of our genetic screening.

Turns out that Hubs and I have pretty clean genes for your average humans.  None of our genes are predisposed to combine to make a baby-time bomb, or one of the several "scarier" genetic problems that can occur in a pregnancy.  Hurray!

We did take this additional panel of tests to determine if we are carriers of any blood-related disorders, because of Little Man's medical history.  Obviously since Little Man has a different father, his problems would be from that combination of genes and not Hubs/My genes.  But it was something we looked into nonetheless.  And that panel actually did turn up a few things for the Hubs and I.  Nothing concerning for Baby Vegas, because A) It's a done deal, he's already cooking in there, and B) There is really not too much to be freaked out about.  I carry a gene that ups my risk of a baby having neural tube defects by .01%... So I am advised to take more folic acid before pregnancy and in the first trimester.  A little late for that now, but it would be helpful in the future.  But that it is it as far as major concerns for this little fetus.  We will be getting extra ultrasounds to keep checking the baby for any potential bleeds, but we should be able to have a natural birth without any concerns.

Me on the other hand - I've got some "ughs" to deal with now.  They detected that I have this prothrombrin thrombophilia gene mutation.  Which means I have to be on the lookout for blood clots, especially during my pregnancy.  Depending on my doctor's decisions this week, I may have to go on blood thinners during my pregnancy, which would mean daily shots.  I will most likely have to be on blood thinners immediately after delivery and post-partum.  Yuck.  So I am still a high-risk pregnancy, and would continue to be in that category for future pregnancies.

I am more than a little freaked out by all this new information, and I am still processing what it means for us now and for future pregnancies.  I think I am okay.  I'm trying to be okay.  In the grand scheme of things, this is not that bad.  Just gotta keep reminding myself that there were a million more things that could have been wrong, and this is not. that. bad.

The One At 14 Weeks

14 weeks.  I can't believe I'm only 14 weeks pregnant.  I feel like I've been pregnant for a hundred years.  One of my friends tried to put it in perspective that elephants are pregnant for years.
Don't worry, she is still alive.

This pregnancy has been grueling emotionally and physically.  My body seems to be rebelling against me every step of the way, and I have to keep reminding myself that this isn't going to be forever.  It might not even be the whole pregnancy.  I will probably feel better soon.   Soon.

My belly aches and my sides feel like they are straining, despite the fact that I am still under my starting weight.  Falling asleep at night is a marathon event that takes hours. The effort it takes to make dinner leaves me breathless and I have to convince myself it is worth it to get off the couch every night and make something remotely healthy.

I'm a little stressed about my doctor's appointment on Wednesday where I have to tell them that I'm not gaining weight and am in pain and exhausted all the time.  For now I'm trying to take it as easy as I can and not push myself beyond where I am comfortable, because I tried that this weekend and haven't been able to get off the couch for 24 hours.

26 weeks to go!

The One With Skinny Genes

Yesterday was our big appointment with the Genetic Counselor up at Hopkins.  Holy. Long. Day.  We left the house around 8:15 and got to the doctor's by 10:45 or so.  Better than I thought but still excruciating.

The appointment itself was very intense.  Trying to detail your family tree while corralling an overtired four year old would be a challenge for anyone, let alone while you are dealing with crazy hormones and your own tiredness.  I also noticed that Little Man's hair smelled kind of funky while we were at the appointment - so I was super self-conscious that the doctor was sniffing him whenever Little Man walked by her chair.   I don't even know why it the only thing I could think of during the appointment.  Plus, how she was going to manage to get close enough to the top of his hair to sniff it?  But I was sure she was going to judge us.  Welcome to my world, I am insane.

(To clarify, I felt like his hair smelled like a wet towel.  Hubs can neither confirm or deny this because he refused to smell the hair.  Chicken.)

Counseling suggested to us that we get screened for the 100 "typical" genetic carrier tests, and then an extra panel that would test us for blood disorders like hemophilia, because of Little Man's history.   Although Little Man has been tested for most blood disorders (and they were negative) because of his brain bleed, she thought it would put our minds at ease.  Oh - except for the part where we are going to find out we are carriers for something because everyone has something... but yeah, don't worry about that.  Or the fact that they can tell you things like... you are at a higher risk for spontaneous brain aneurysms.  Do we want to know if that is the case?  

Um.  No.  Just don't tell me.  Every time I had a headache I would be certain I'm dying.  I'm a smidge dramatic that way.

Then we had our first trimester screening ultrasound and found out that I have a backwards tilted uterus.  Which the ultrasound tech told me was not even important, except that the baby was hard to see.  And gave me a crazy nightmare last night about the baby sloshing around upside down on my spine.  See - there is that drama again!  The screening was normal.  Which was expected but always a blessing.

After all the bloodwork and picture taking - we dashed out of that building like our lives depended on it.  We beat the parade traffic out of the city and made it home in record time.

I was supposed to have another regular visit with my OB's office down here today, but at nine this morning I got a call that someone had marked "High-Risk" on my chart.  This meant I was no longer allowed to see just the nurse practitioner, I have to see the OB every visit.   So instead I get the night off to watch Grey's Anatomy on Netflix and make a decent dinner for everyone.

... Actually I just saw a picture of the Red Robin BBQ wrap on a friend's Facebook.  There goes dinner!

The One With the SUPERBOWL!

Last night was the Superbowl (didja know?) and Bawltimore won.  Wooo hoo!  So very exciting, and we're all thrilled.  Or at least I was last night and early this morning.  Now I am just stressed.  

Hubs and I have appointments at Hopkins tomorrow.  Of course.  During the Superbowl Parade.  Of course.  We made the mistake a few months ago of having an appointment on the day of the Grand Prie - I can't imagine this will be easier.

We usually leave the house 2 hours before an appointment to get to Baltimore on time.  We'll probably be leaving about 3 hours early tomorrow and praying for good luck, because brilliantly our appointment is about 1 hour before parade start time.  Ugh ugh ugh.

Other than that, life is peachy.  Still haven't gained any pregnancy weight, but I know that is just a fluke for now.  I am sure I will be nice and round eventually.  My little belly is getting more defined but still could be mistaken for a food-baby and not a baby-baby.

The Little Man is doing alright too.  He visited the Ex for the first time in a month or so last weekend, and so we've been working hard to get his sleep schedule back on track.  The first few days he barely slept at all, which made for some very stressful mornings.  But he's slowly getting back on schedule, and we are trying to work his daily nap back in there.  His pediatrician wants him to wean off of naps, but when he does it means that he wakes up after only sleeping a few hours at night.  Then he's up for another 4 or 5 hours until he can bore himself to sleep.  His "perfect" sleep schedule usually works out to be a 2 hour nap during the day, followed by 6 to 7 consecutive hours at night.  It isn't ideal, but we've come to accept that it is really all he wants and/or needs.  Mommy on the other hand would be happy with a solid ten hours of sleep.  For both of us.  

Speaking of sleep... Our new REM case manager visited last week and informed us that our old case manager had not reapplied for the bed at all, and she was surprised that we had not qualified for it the first time.  *Facepalm*   She swears we will get a bed eventually.  I'm not holding my breath.

The One Where I Am Wasting Away

It is no big secret - I love wine.  I also drink beer, liquor, fruity mixed drinks - I drink it all.  It is absolutely the biggest hurdle to my weight loss, but one that I have decided I give no f*@$* about.  Booze is full of lovely empty calories, and I could care less.  It is my vice, and I have accepted it.  A glass of wine with dinner after a long day is my favorite way to relax.  A glass of wine with my friends after a long day is my favorite way to start a fantastic night.  If I need to lose weight I exercise a little more, eat better, and call it success.

That being said, I clearly have not been drinking while pregnant.  Nor have I been trying to lose weight.  But I haven't been drinking now for over a month.  And combined with the morning sickness, I have now passed my pre-baby goal weight and am a pound less than I was aiming towards.  It doesn't seem like such a big deal - 6 pounds down since my wedding two months ago.  If I wasn't pregnant I'd be jumping for joy!   That pesky little beer belly I can't get rid of because I will never give up wine because I cheat a little bit is gone!

But I am pregnant.  And I am not hungry.  I have a teeny tiny appetite, and I am trying uber hard to fill up on "good foods".  Not. Working.  I am too lazy to cook and too tired to care.  I take my vitamins and just hope that Baby Vegas appreciates that I can gag them down.  I want to be eating well and having tiny balanced meals all day - and I'm just not.  Blergh.   

I managed to eat an entire cup of soup and a half-salad while out with my girlfriends last night, and considered it a huge accomplishment.  Today its almost noon and I have suffered through a banana, which I tried to split with Little Man.

We went out shopping two nights ago and stocked up on my favorite things, so hopefully having those around will encourage me to eat more.   If not, I'm really not sure what to do.  Hopefully the second trimester will be as magical as they say in the baby books and bring back my appetite.  Wish me luck!