Candy from a baby...

Just thought I would share the picture that we are including in our seasonal cards this year. Partly to wish you all Happy Holidays and partly because he's just. So. Darn. Cute.

Oh, and to those who might wonder... "Happy Holidays" is truly a greeting to all from me. No, I am not going to "rebel" and just say "Merry Christmas" because Christmas is not the only celebration this time of year. Even for Christians, we have the New Year. Plus, I have many non-Christian friends, so out of love for all of them (and a bit of laziness on my part) I send Season's Greetings cards, say Happy Holidays, and wish everyone Peace in the New Year.

Did I lose a few days?

I have been having the oddest morning. Typepad seems to have developed a black hole of sorts and many of my favorite breakfast reads have had a few days of posts sucked out of existence. Hmmmm.

I suppose I'd best get something fresh out there for those craving new blog content. I have nothing lengthy and captivating, so I present you with Santa's grab bag of blog content:

Gabriel is finally sitting up on his own. He had been doing the froggy-style sitting for a while, but now he is doing real, honest-to-Pete sitting. It's great. Of course, now he never wants to be reclining, so the bouncy seat has lost its charm.

Rolling over is another story altogether. He won't do it. He hates being on his tummy, period. He sleeps either on his back or his side (which he alters himself throughout the night), but he won't roll over to his stomach. Personally, I don't blame him. Why on earth would he want to work at getting himself into a position that he doesn't like? Sounds logical to me. He's brilliant, I tell you.

Oh, and he hates meat. HATES IT. I have tried grinding up real meat, and I have tried the disgusting little jars of meat. Nope. HATES IT. He does like yogurt, and he will be trying tofu this weekend. I'm actually not concerned about the meat- I just want to be sure he's getting enough protein. And he loves veggies and fruit, so we're good there.

It is most certainly NOT beginning to feel a lot like Christmas. How the heck did it sneak up on me so that it is now only a week away? How, I ask you? How?

We are about the enter the year of the lean. Our budget has had to be trimmed to the core. We are not extravagant people. Really. But now, between my three months of unpaid maternity leave, renovating the kitchen, and a surprise repair at the apartments we own (sewer collapse- over 10K, OUCH!), our finances basically suck. Had it not been for the sewer, we would have been just fine. No one can really predict those things, so I don't feel like we were irresponsible (we had saved up the money for the kitchen stuff and the leave, so those were planned), but these days it is just not that easy to have tens of thousands of dollars lying around "just in case." Thankfully our parents are helping us with loans, but it is going to take us at least a year to pay them back and begin to rebuild our savings.

And on the heels of the financial crisis, I feel like a big jerk because I have nothing, yes nothing, to put under the tree for the baby. His first Christmas and I have zilch. Ok, the kid has a better wardrobe than me because my friends and family can't seem to help themselves, and he has toys coming out of his wazoo because my parents saved ALL of my toys, but I still feel guilty. I suppose it's better to stiff him on a gift this year than next. Maybe I'll wrap my old toys that he hasn't seen yet...bad mommy.

Ok, now I am depressed. Bah humbug.

Must get some good baby hugging in soon- that fixes everything :-)

Momma? Yes. Hot? Well...

In my daily stumble through the blogosphere I discovered that my standing on the blogroll of the lovely Karen has been updated to the category of “Hot Momma.” First of all, I am tickled that she of the unclothen ovary has a link to she of the agar plate. I mean, come on, it’s like having your name show up in the paper and not in the police blotter. But now I am feeling the pressure of being “hot.”

But what is hot, really? Being the left-brained individual that I am, I decided to take a look at ol’ Webster for some advice. Here’s what I found:

Main Entry: hot
Pronunciation: 'hät
Function: adjective
Etymology: Middle English, from Old English hAt; akin to Old High German heiz hot, Lithuanian kaisti to get hot

So far, I really like the Old English spelling “hAt.” Let’s continue...

Having a relatively high temperature; having heat in a degree exceeding normal body heat

Definitely not. In fact, my normal body temp is only 97. I’m cool, y’all.

Capable of giving a sensation of heat or of burning, searing, or scalding

No, I’ve never caused another human being to experience a burning sensation, if you know what I mean.

Having or causing the sensation of an uncomfortable degree of body heat

Haven’t had a hot flash since my Clomid days- can’t be that.

Suggestive of heat or of burning or glowing objects

Ok, my hair *is* a bright shade of red

Of intense and immediate interest; unusually lucky or favorable; temporarily capable of unusual performance; currently popular or in demand; recently and illegally obtained; electrically energized especially with high voltage

Popular *and* illegal? Nope, I’m well out of high school, thanks.

Radioactive

Well, I was for one day when I had surgery

Stormy; angry; sexy

Now we’re getting closer

Alas, the true meaning remains elusive. Although, many thanks to Karen for thinking that I’m hAt. And Kudos to her and the other gals who made the Best of Blogs book. If it weren’t for the infertile blogosphere, I wouldn’t have made it to Hot Momma status with my sanity intact. You are all queens in my book.

I blink and another month goes by

Honest to gawd, I keep thinking that I just wrote a post. Must give it time to set for a minute...mustn't write another too hastily...just get some more of that work and life stuff done and then I can write another.

And then I look at the posting date and realize that, yet again, I have let another month slide by in between posts. The funny thing is, I really like posting. I know that I'm not in the "who's who" of blogging, but quite honestly, if I was I don't know how I would keep up with it. Blogging for me is an outlet of a sort, and everyone in this world needs an outlet.

I think the thing that has really been keeping me from being more frequent, interesting, and persistent with my posting is collecting my thoughts into a reasonable format. I have the greatest blog ideas as I am on my way to work, in the shower, or falling asleep. All of those places and times when I don't necessarily have the luxury of jotting down some notes, and even if I do the essence of why the post was important in the first place doesn't make the translation.

So, as soon as I can get a direct line from my brain to the blog, we'll have some great stuff happening around here.

In the meantime, I would like to throw out my thoughts on something of great importance in the world, namely the upcoming season finale of the Apprentice. I don't watch a lot of TV- hell, we don't even have cable- but I really like the Apprentice. Mostly. I absolutely hated all of the candidates from last season, especially the one from my hometown who was the bitchiest little spoiled brat on the planet...but I digress. I have watched most of this season (I can't be bothered to tape TV shows when I'm not home) and have been a lot less dissapointed than I was last season. I am thrilled that the two people I thought were the best candidates are the two going head-to-head this Thursday. And I already have my bet placed (not literally) on what The Donald's "big surprise" will be at the finale. He'll hire them both. Hell, I would. I might be way off, but now you all know what I'll be doing on Thursday at 9pm.

Ok, back to reality.

a nerding we will go...

So, I’m off to a conference next week, baby in tow. Should be interesting. The hubby and I are both attending as we work in a similar field. And many people attend the conference with their very young children. So, why do I keep thinking that this is a disaster waiting to happen?

My biggest concern is having enough supplies with me for the long conference day without over packing to the point where I would need to hire a Sherpa. Add to my anxiety the fact that I am now entering my third week of Wei*ght Wat*chers. Will I find food that fits the plan? Will I end up gaining weight for lack of said food? How much wood could a woodchuck chuck?

Alas, I become a broken record of endless questions, driving even myself crazy.

So, anyone in the blogosphere heading over to the Society for Neuroscience conference in D.C.? Huh? Anyone? Bueller?

{insert sound of crickets chirping}

Well, if it turns out that you are (you know how these things pop up- “Oh, honey, we just MUST go over to that neuroscience conference they’re having- it will be a blast”) drop me a comment here before Friday afternoon or just look for the slightly crazed nerd-mom around the convention.

Take me to the river

A couple of weeks ago we had Gabriel baptized. It was a small ceremony with only eight of us present, not including the man of the hour. As you can see from the photo, he was none too pleased with the pouring of water on his head. I mean, he's just now decided that the bathtub is a fun place, but using cold water while he is dressed? No thank you indeed.

We had a lot of debate concerning this day. Nothing about whether we would or would not baptize but more relating to the social obligations surrounding the event. Should we have a party? Should we not? Should we invite the whole fan-damily? Or not? Who will be the godparents?

All of the debate was relating to issues relating to how other people would react. We worried that the extended family would feel slighted if we didn't invite them. Then we worried that those invited would be grumbling about yet another occasion for a gift. And all that we really wanted was a simple ceremony followed by a small dinner. In the end we went with our own wishes because, after all, it was our decision.

And all was good. Even Gabriel thought so once he took a few swigs from the bottle and found his thumb.

Queen of the Bumbo-bees

I am addicted to the concept of getting Gabe a Bumbo seat because he is chomping at the bit to sit up on his own. Pair that with the knowledge that I can get free shipping by ordering three, and you create a monster. I have been bugging all of my new-mommy friends to get one with me. I'm up to four!

Yes, I am just a WEE bit too excited about this.

I'm ordering the lime green one, in case you were wondering.

Well, baby...

No, not the intro to a Isaac Hays love song- just a note that we had another well-baby check yesterday. The little one is getting bigger. And bigger. He's 12lb10oz now, which makes for another 2 lb gain in a month as long as he picks up those other 6 oz in the next week (which is likely). I am thinking that he either measured wrong or my husband heard them wrong at the last appointment, because he seems to have shrunk an inch, measuring in at 23.5 inches. I know that they don't shrink at this age, but they sure do squirm on the measuring table. Let's just call it 24" and be done with it. These numbers put him in the 10th percentile for height and weight but, my gosh, he seems so awfully big to me!

We started cereal last night. I was going to wait until 6 months, but he is so darn HUNGRY all the time- I am hoping this will help. I am making all of his food, including the cereal. I went to this link posted by Shannon and I love it. So, his first meal was brown rice cereal, ground and cooked with love by mommy. The organic acorn squash, green beans, and carrots are ready and frozen. And about half of the people who find out I'm making the food don't actually think I am crazy- I thought it would be higher.

So much to say, so little time

It seems that every day I have a moment where I think "gee, that would make for a great post." The problem is, I can't seem to get a minute to sit down and write. Yes, I am back at work, but they actually expect me to...well...work. I have deadlines rolling in weekly, and there's no end in sight. There is some joy in job security, though.

Right now my little boy is sleeping peacefully in the swing, so I'd best write quickly...he seems to sense when I want to write or read. Those are the times he throws the biggest fits. I now present- my life in a nutshell.

Gabriel is growing like a weed and will be four months old in a week. Four months! He holds his head up beautifully, so he has graduated into forward-facing in the Snugli. Just in the last two days he has accomlished the "holding head up while being pulled to sitting" milestone. Cool. He also has stopped flopping around when I prop him up to sit. He's not so good with pushing up on his arms, mostly because I am *terrible* about fitting tummy time into his day. Bad mommy. Oh, and he talks so much- I swear to you he says "mommy." It sounds more like "mah-ee" but that's close enough for me!

My kitchen is again a working kitchen. We started ripping out the old kitchen when I was still pregnant. At the end of March, it was gutted to the drywall. About three weeks ago we were able to put in the new stove (in between we were using the grill, toaster oven, microwave, and camping stove). Just last week the fridge went in...bliss. It is a beautiful new space. If I can ever get the picture function working again (I think it has to do with our connection that is run by hamsters) I will post some pics.

The snowball effect of the kitchen being done is that I once again have a functional living room (dishes and stove were stored in there) and dining room (fridge and more dish storage). I am a happy camper.

At the same time I have been shaken to the core by the tragedy of Katrina. I actually spend my free time at work reading the news sites. I still can't seem to get my head around the whole situation. It is just so awful that I can't believe that it really, really happened. I have friends and family who knew people in the area- they all left early and are safe, thankfully. My heart goes out to every person affected by the storm.

Well, those dishes won't wash themselves. I'm off to be thankful for all of the joys in my life. Even the dirty dishes.

She's here!

If you haven't been obsessively refreshing over at Jo's, then you might have missed that her lovely daughter Sophia has decided to make her dramatic entrance. Go over and add to the shouts of the masses.

Congrats Jo and Sean!

What a big boy!

Wow- it has been almost a month since I published a post. Not cool. Ok, maybe cool given that I am highly sleep deprived- but I still hoped to do better.

I think part of what has kept me from posting is really having a grasp on what to say. Now, mind you, I can go on and on about my little boy. But it feels funny to do so given that I started this blog as a pregnant infertile. Now I am writing as a...mom. Whoa. I'm not so sure that I want to be a mommy-blogger, but I'm not so much an infertile blogger any more, and I am most decidedly not pregnant. So, folks, this will be a bit of a miscellaneous bin of posts until I get my act together. And even then, I might keep it pretty random.

However, the events of the day rotate around Gabriel, so here comes the mommy stuff...

Gabe had a checkup today with the pediatric cardiologist (I never posted on this, but they found a small hole in his heart shortly after birth). The hole is still very very small and will either close by the time he is one or stay open and not cause a problem. But we still get to visit the cardiologist periodically. He got a good report today- hole is still there and still small. The chest X-rays looks great. Come back in six months. Okee, dokee.

The best part was that we got a weight check (What is up with no doctor's visits at three months? I wanna know his weight, dammit!). He is now weighing in at 11lb and measures 24.5 inches. That is an increase of 2 pounds and 3 inches in just a month. I love it! My little boy is growing up...

Stay tuned for the miscellany!

Tea for four

Many congratulations to Sherry on the arrival of Max and Sara! Best wishes to the whole Horkin' family.

Sleep?

We don't neeeeeeeed no stinkin' sleep.

Ok. Maybe we do.

Gabriel still has his days and nights very much confused. I am actually growing to dread nighttime. One friend suggested napping the whole day and staying up at night instead. Well, for a gal who has to go back to work in an alarmingly short time, this is soooo not an option. I must learn to survive a day on low sleep. Right?

Actually, I have finally convinced the little bean to sleep for 4 hours *without* me holding him. He sleeps in a wicker laundry basket. I know. The horror! It is actually a nice basket with a cloth liner, and I even add a towel wrapped in a pack-n-play sheet at the bottom for comfiness. The kid stays asleep happily for FOUR HOURS. Did I mention that? Four hours. Bliss. Anyway, I have evaluated the setup backwards and forwards, and I just can't come up with a scenario where he hurts himself or suffocates, so for now- basket it is. We are taking a trip this coming weekend and I am not lugging that heavy P-n-P along- we're toting a basket!

Of course, as soon as he grows a little more, this will not be an option. (Note to self- go shopping NOW to find a bigger basket).

Oh, and I found out from my MIL that my husband loved to sleep in a laundry basket when he was young. Guess it's in the genes (jeans- ha!).

Four weeks and counting

I will be back to work in a little over four weeks. Not the kind of thing I want to be contemplating right now, but I really don't have much of a choice. We need both incomes, and I happen to be the primary breadwinner. So, the reality of life sets in...

We have been on our employer's waiting list for daycare for almost a year and a half. We were told at the beginning that we needed about that much time for a part-time slot, which is what we are seeking (my mom will watch Gabe the rest of the time). Well, I called this past Thursday to see when said slot might open. After a look in the computer, I was told that I would not, in fact, be getting a slot this fall. They had filled the infant rooms and would not be accepting other people. When inquiring as to when I might be able to get a part time spot, I was told "next summer." Ok, so it has now become a two-year wait for part time care (and this, we were told, was the shorter list).

After a moment of panic, I picked up the phone and called the day care center a stone's throw from our house. I had heard that it was nice, but we had opted to seek care closer to work as it sometimes takes us a long time to commute (traffic dependent). Surprisingly, this day care had an opening in the infant room, so I set up an appointment to see the facility the next day. Overall, it looked pretty good and was comparable to the original place with one major exception- they were actually accommodating and nice to the parents. I don't mean that the original place was not nice because of us not getting a spot. Hardly. They are rigid beyond belief about drop off, pick up, and a host of other issues. This new place seems to care that parents are people, too.

We are still deciding for sure, but this one looks good.

I'm not dead yet...

...as said by the knight in the Holy Grail

I thought that was only too appropriate a line to start this post. Partly because I have been quite MIA the last few weeks in the blog world, but also because there are days when I am so tired that I function as if I might be missing a few limbs.

Such is life in the mommy world.

Gabriel has shown himself to be quite the cuddle monkey. He wants to be held. All. The. Time. I guess by default that means that I am in the world of attachment parenting. And to be honest, it's really kind of nice. I mean, how many times in your life to you get complete acknowlgement that you are the true center of someone's world? And besides- he's so darn cute that I can't help but want to sit and stare at him all day.

Guess who is a little behind in the housework?

And who is also typing this with one hand?

More to come- just wanted to ensure those who might stop by that all is well.

Best birthday ever

So, Wednesday was my 34th birthday- seems to be a trend around here, what, turning 34 and all...This year was, without question, the best birthday ever.

My husband forgot- repeatedly- that it was my birthday.

I was a walking zombie of a person due to sleep deprivation.

I probably smelled because I didn't have time to get a shower.

I was at the complete beck and call of another human being*.

I got no presents at all**.

I got no "special visits" that night***.

I got older.

__________________________________
* The existence of this little human brought me to tears of joy several times over the course of the day...'nuff said.

** I did get a very yummy birthday cake as a surprise from my parents in the middle of the day.

*** Um, I don't actually want any. If you question why, please re-read my delivery story and you'll get the drift.

Happy dad with the new boy

Mom and Gabriel right after delivery

A moment of labor...

I promised a post on the whole birth event once I was in a little less pain, so here goes. I know that as I was waiting for the whole birthing process, I kept reading accounts of birth from other bloggers, wondering exactly what my experience might be. I figured I would throw my day of labor into the mix for those who are still waiting (or who hope to be waiting soon...).

Tuesday, May 17

3:30 a.m.- I woke to the sensation of water dripping between my legs and figured that I was, once again, sweating like a pig in bed. I threw off the covers and decided that since I was awake, I would go ahead and empty my bladder. As I went to sit up- GOOSH! Part of me was convinced that it was my water breaking and part of me thought I had just lost all bladder control. Luckily, I was sleeping in the guest room where I had, just the week before, made the bed using a shower curtain liner as the bottom layer. This gave me a moment to ponder my situation before needing to jump up and go to the bathroom. I highly recommend adding this to your bedding ensemble as you reach your due date.

4:00 a.m.- As it was a clean break, I decided to go ahead and get a shower and dry my hair before heading off to the hospital. Woke the hubby, who later admitted that he thought it was actually 7:30 a.m. and that I was playing a joke on him before heading off to work. No, I don't joke at this hour...

5:30 a.m.- Talked to my doctor's office who told me to get a shower, eat something, and then head off to the hospital. At this point I was not yet having contractions. However, the fluid would still gush occasionally, so I meandered around the house with a towel between my legs. It was a lovely scene. I also called my parents to let them know that they needed to care for the furry kid as we were heading off to meet their grandkid.

6:15 a.m.- At the hospital sitting in triage. I was 2cm dilated, 90% effaced, and they confirmed that my water broke (gee, thanks, I hadn't noticed). I waited around here until about 9:30 a.m.- and still no contractions.

9:45 a.m.- I finally got to a Labor and Delivery room. May I just interject to tell you how much I absolutely love my hospital? The L&D room is also the recovery room, so essentially you stay there for the whole process and get transferred to postpartum about two hours after delivery. The last thing I would want to be doing while laboring is changing rooms. They provide a CD player for music, TV if you want, a couch for the partner to nap, and they have all of the baby checking doo-dads in the room for during and after. Unless there is a problem, no one has to leave the room at all. It's great.

10:00 a.m...ok, back to the story. I was given pitocin to get the contractions rolling. I was told that they would not really be noticable for about two hours.

11:00 a.m.- I am definitely contracting. Each one is worse than the last. I may be reconsidering that epidural (I had hoped to avoid it). Dilated to 3cm.

12:00 p.m.- I adamantly requested the epidural. Contractions are coming fast and furious at this point. Dilated to 4 cm.

1:00 p.m.- The ansesthesiologist comes in to do the epiduiral. It hurts like a bitch. The pain is not gone. I am not happy. I ask if it should be working right away and he says to wait 10 mins as I might be one of those people who feels it on a delay...sounds like BS to me, but I am willing to give 10 mins for pain relief. Dilated to 5.5 cm. My parents arrived shortly after the epidural to visit.

2:00 p.m.- I have spent the last hour groaning like a crazy person to get through the contractions and begging the nurse to get someone back in there to give me another epidural, dammit. He finally comes back and I didn't feel the needle going in at all. I stopped feeling my legs...and the contractions. Finally. Thankfully. Of course, I also had no bladder control and peed all over the bed. But I didn't care in the least. Dilated to 6.5 cm.

2:30 p.m.- My parents decide to leave and my mom says that she will be back for the delivery. I made her promise that if I say anything rude in there that she will not hold it against me. "What happens in the delivery room stays in the delivery room." We decide that I will most likely deliver around 5:30 given the current conditions.

2:45 p.m. - Dilated to 9 cm. Doctor says that we will start pushing around 3:15. Call mom in a panic telling her to get back to the hospital NOW.

3:15 p.m. - The nurse tells me that we will start pushing to get the baby's head formed into the birth canal. We commence with push #1 and she freaks out because she can see the baby's full head of hair already. I'm not crowning, but he is definitely making an appearance. She begins to scramble around to get everything together and to page the doctor.

3:30 p.m. - The doctor arrives and is surprised at how quickly things are progressing.

3:40 p.m. - My mom returns to the hospital.

3:57 p.m. - The doctor starts to do an episiotomy.

3:57:30 p.m. - One push later, Gabriel comes flying out. He went from not quite crowned to shoulders in one push. Everyone in the room jumped because it was so sudden.

3:58 p.m. - One gentle push and the rest of him came out. I looked in the mirror and said "it's a boy!"

So, all in all, I was only in labor for six hours. Not too shabby. The worst part of it all was that Gabe arrived so quickly that I ended up with fourth-degree lacerations of the perineum. For those without intimate knowledge of perineal tearing, that's the worst type and means that I tore all the way through to the rectum. TMI? The healing process has been better than I expected, but not entirely pleasant. I will have to post something else on that whole scenario.

Gabriel latched on like a champ about 30 minutes after the birth and he's been feedling ever since. Yea!!!

It's a boy!

Hi all,

I've been a little, well, busy- so sorry for the hole in the posting. It seems that Dr. Ass was right...my little one just couldn't wait for his big entry into the world! (and Dr. Ass was the catcher, to boot)

Gabriel A.
Born 5-17-05
3:58 p.m.
6lb 5oz
19 3/4 inches
Full head of black hair (stolen from his daddy)
Nurses like a champ

Mommy is tired, SORE, happy, SORE, and, oh yeah...SORE. Let's just say that his entry was so fast that he opened up a new world for me.

Details on the delivery when I can sit for longer than this...

Pregnancy update

Sorry for the delay- no time to update on Friday!

37w4d

Heartrate = 133

BP = 112/70

Cervix = 1.5 cm, 80% effaced (Technically, it was 80% effaced last week, but the other doc didn't bother to tell me. I read my chart to find out.)

So, everything looks good, again. Yeah!

According to Dr. Ass (who was nice this time) I will most likely get to meet this kid in the next week. His words were that I should schedule my next visit, but that I probably won't make it. My thoughts on this? Well, if he's right- great. But I'm not taking is as written in stone. If I had been less effaced last week, or more dilated this week, then I might be more willing to call out the trumpets. Until then, I'm just taking it a day at a time.

Now, mind you, I know that at this point I am on "any day now" alert. So, as I leave work each day I make sure to update my files and arrange things so that if I were to not return the next day- no biggie. But I have been doing that anyway for about a week.

If "notions" have anything to do with it, maybe I will have the kid this week. Last week I had a moment where I was convinced that the baby would come this week. Wednesday to be exact. Every once in a while I get a notion, and sometimes it is actually right. I have, surprisingly, had no other notions this pregnancy. Nothing on the sex or anything. It could be my body's way of giving me a head's up, or it could be a hormone-induced state of insanity. But regardless, I have no control over when labor begins, how long it will last, how intense it will be, or when I will finally get to meet this kid- so until I'm in the process of one of the above, I am not going to obsess about it.

We did finally install the car seat, though...

Zzzzzzzzzzz...

Can't. Keep. Eyes. Open.

Must. Sleep.

This is very frustrating in light of my trying to get everything done at work for my leave. I hope to have a better night's sleep tonight and we'll try this "get everything done" thing tomorrow.

Night, night.

Pregnancy Update

36w4d

HR = 138

Head = down

Cervix = 1cm

That last tidbit shocked the hell out of me. I know that I can walk around for weeks being dilated, but at least it is a sign of progress. Something is happening down there, and a baby is on the way sooner or later. S/he is definitely low- it feels like I am walking with a cantaloupe between my legs.

At this point my bag is packed and in the car, the nursery is mostly done (the only thing not done is hanging the wall decor- a detail), and I have the other supplies I need for a newborn.

Ok, kid, you can come out now. We're ready.

Back from the dermatologist- take two

Well, I had my dermatologist follow-up yesterday, and it went pretty well. The Novocain hurt like a real be-yatch and of course was not numbing me very well so she had to keep adding it and adding it. The doc was asking me about the nursery, the décor, the baby- anything to distract me. Nope, not working. The searing pain from the needle and anesthetic was just a wee little bit more present in the forefront. But nice try.

The cutting went pretty smoothly. I haven’t seen all of the sites yet as I am to keep them covered for two days before changing the dressings. This morning, one of the dressings had fallen off, so I go to see that the smallest site- originally the size of an M&M is now almost the size of a quarter. Not terribly large, but when you are missing skin it seems like the size of a meteor crater. The others should be just lovely considering that they were at least dime size to begin with. Oh well.

And the non-epinephrine anesthetic? Did I bleed? You betcha. It took the nurse 30 minutes just to get it to the point where she could add a bandage. Lovely.

I also got a clearer version of the original biopsy report. Two of the three moles were completely benign, but fell into the dysplastic nevus category. The third one was actually precancerous. So, we’ll just cross fingers that she got the entire margin of all three sites this time and I won’t be back again. But, if I need to go back- guess what- I’m going back. As I said before, melanoma is some scary shit.

Feeling like crud today- GI distress. I know, that can be a sign that labor is pending. I think it is more of a sign that one should not consume a large piece of meatloaf that can double as a doorstop (I’m not the best cook).

Biopsy Results and another PSA

And the biopsy results are…

Negative. Sort of. The three moles removed are all dysplastic nevi, which are essentially pre-cancerous moles. They fit all of the ABC’s (asymmetrical, irregular border, more than one color) for abnormality. They are also the type most likely to change into melanoma and, given that I’ve been down that path before, are pretty much guaranteed to do so for me. The follow up? Well, before I had a confirmed melanoma, the follow up was absolutely nothing. Now that I have a “history” (makes me sound shady, huh?) the follow-up is to re-excise the area to take just a bit more tissue and be sure that they have every last one of the kooky cells. I am scheduled to go in next Tuesday for the extra cutting. Oh, just a word of advice to anyone who will have a procedure done using local without epinephrine- you will bleed. A. Lot. Just a warning.

I expect that they will find either clear borders or the presence of a few more atypical cells, nothing cancerous. But I’ll go ahead do a prayer request just in case.


And your friendly, neighborhood, Public Service Announcement…

May is National Melanoma/Skin Cancer Prevention and Detection Month. Check your moles regularly. Perhaps even go to a skin cancer screening in your area. Wear sunscreen daily. Wear a hat. And for gawd’s sake- if any of your moles changes, even slightly- go to the doctor immediately! It can literally save your life. If the melanoma is less than one millimeter in thickness, the survival rate is nearly 100%. If it reaches four millimeters, the survival rate drops to 50%. 50%!!! This is serious, people. Melanoma is one bad-ass form of cancer, and because it starts on the surface in almost every case, you have a really good chance of spotting it early if you just know your skin very well. Or have someone else know it- might as well have fun while being healthy!

But seriously- I’m not messin’ with ya. Get checked.

Take that, Dr. Ass

Pregnancy Update:

baby's heartrate = 149bpm
baby's position = undetermined (but not head down)
my blood pressure = 120/70

and the coup de gras...my weight was down a pound

I was bracing myself for another visit with Dr. Ass this morning, knowing that my weight would be up at least a pound or two. When I glanced at the scale and thought that I saw a smaller number, I wanted to see his reaction, given the tongue lashing I got last time for excessive gain.

He said nothing about the weight, so I brought it up.

Me: So, how was my weight this time?

Dr.A: It's down one pound

Me: Really? Well, I have to be perfectly honest- I didn't change anything at all in my habits. In fact, last time I was more shocked to see that it was up so many pounds.

Dr.A: Well, I guess you're having fluctuations in your fluid then. Ok.

Me (inside my head): Grrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuugh!

Next visit in one week.

The Shower of Style

**Warning: pregnancy and baby-related post**

This past Sunday was my baby shower, thrown by my mom. It still seems like a surreal thing to be pregnant, let alone to be the center of attention at a party where people give you gifts for the being that you are still convinced must be a dream. But I digress into my own neuroses…

The group at the shower was mostly family, with a few friends thrown into the mix. I was glad to see each and every one of them, knowing that they would be a wonderful support for me once the baby arrives. Some of them had not seen me since before the pregnancy, and were absolutely beaming at seeing me that day. Of course, the majority of them had no idea what we had been through to conceive this kid, so they simply assumed that we had waited the respectable three years into our marriage to go ahead and get pregnant. Little did they know.

I do have to say that this kid is going to be absolutely stylin’. I got a ton of baby clothes, thankfully in a variety of sizes. All of them were adorable, and I could not get over all of the matching accessories. Socks, hats, blankets…all of them matching a particular outfit. For now. I bet that about a month into motherhood the kid will be wearing whatever socks happen to be clean, with whatever outfit has not been puked on yet that day, and if everything matches, I’ll win the grand prize. Hell, I have a hard enough time dressing myself for work, and I’m supposed to have a kid that matches?

I got a bunch of gear, too, although I will need to make a trip this weekend to the store to get the last of the newborn essentials. Oh, yeah, and I should probably finish that nursery furniture so that I have somewhere to actually put everything. Yeah, that. Hmmmm.

And I am still entirely picture illiterate. Those of you who tried to link to the highchair that I so cleverly could not link to a few posts back…you know that I’m a computer fool. So, I can’t share with you the many piles of loot. Sorry. I will try to get it in gear after the grand entrance of the kid, but I make no promises.

Dr. Numb-Numb = Dr. Ass

**Warning: Pregnancy-related post**

I had a visit with my OB this morning. The baby is doing great. Good strong heartbeat at 144bpm. Love it.

However, as you might have guessed from the title, I am none too pleased with the doctor. If you recall, Dr. Numb-Numb is my regular doctor who had, prior to the pregnancy, been helpful, informative, and, I thought, understanding. Wrong. As soon as I returned to his practice at 8 weeks along, I was assaulted with his dogma on weight gain in pregnancy. He proclaimed adamantly that I was to only gain 16 pounds, 20 at most. At that point, I had gained nothing at all, so I wasn't really phased by his comment.

A few visits later, I saw him again (I had seen another doctor in the interim as is common once you're an OB patient), and he chastised me for gaining six pounds in a month. "Two pounds only!" he ranted.

I managed to skip seeing him for a while in the rotation and in the meantime my weight was all over the place. Lost a pound one month, gained three the next, and so forth. Well, this month (of course) I somehow gained eight pounds and of course it was Dr. Numb-Numb on the schedule. Great. I actually went in thinking that I had not gained at all or was perhaps up only the two pounds allowed as I am feeling great. My clothes fit fine, I am not uncomfortable, etc. All of those things that I normally use to gauge weight gain.

He was not pleased at all with the weight, as you probably guessed. He asked about my sugar test- it was fine. Did I have a family history of sugar? Unknown because I'm adopted. Perhaps I'm eating too much salt and retaining water? No, I really don't like salt.

His suggestion to control the weight gain? "Maybe you should skip a meal each day." Excuse me? Skip. A. Meal? Did you notice that I am GESTATING here? That's not even a healthy thing for someone who is not pregnant.

All hail, the arrival of Dr. Ass.

The skin you're in

Has anyone else noticed that doctors and nurses seem unable to read your chart before they start asking you stupid questions? I went this morning to the dermatologist for my twice-a-year check for scary spots (for those new to the blog, I had melanoma a couple of years back, caught it early, so all is fine now). Upon arriving, they gave me a medical questionnaire, similar to those you might find in any doctor’s office. They like to update it every year, they said. Ok, fine. So, I go about filling out the questionnaire, carefully noting under “current medications” my prenatal vitamins and for “are you under a doctor’s care” noting yes- for pregnancy. I will admit that it still feels weird to write those things down. Really weird.

Anyway- after a shorter wait than I expected, the nurse calls me back to the little room. She begins by asking my age and then proceeds to ask if I am taking any medications. While thinking read the damn form I just filled out I answer her that I am taking prenatal vitamins. She looks at me quizzically and asks if I am pregnant. “Yes,” I respond. She then asks me how many months along I am. “Seven,” I reply. Immediately her backpedal response kicks in and she tells me how good I look. “Hmmmrrrff,” I respond.

I mean, really, what the hell do you say to someone who thinks you’re just really fat? The only credit I can give her is that I was not wearing a maternity shirt today, and she was looking at me head-on. I have gained everything up front, so it is really only my stomach profile that changed (don’t be jealous- I had a big fat ass before getting pregnant- it just didn’t get any bigger). Even people that I work with that know full well that I’m pregnant will forget if I wear “normal” clothing.

Really, the thing that irritated me the most was that I wasted my time filling out that damn form. If no one is going to read it anyway, what’s the point?

P.S.- Between my home checks and a good doctor (I like the doctor, not the nurse) we found four spots that need further examination. She had me clear with my OB that I can have local anesthesia (which I can) and I’ll go back in two weeks to have four spots removed for biopsy. Say a little prayer that they all come back benign. Will keep you posted.

And please check yourself for suspicious moles, ok? And wear sunscreen! (ok, that's my PSA for the day)

Whoring it up

Gee- I guess now that I have whored myself by giving out my blog address over at Karen’s and Cecily’s sites, I should probably get something posted for those who might stumble over here.

For those who are finding me through their blogs- welcome! Pardon the mess- I think if you move that pizza box out of the way there will be plenty of space for all. Yep, just throw it over in the corner- yeah, right there. Great!

I guess I should have planned for guests- I have some pretzels and chips. No, cancel the chips- I ate those. Um, carrot sticks? And, um, wasabi peas? Tell you what- I’ll run out and get some decent snacks and maybe even find a good topic while I’m at it. Then we can have a good ol’ gab session (if the Blogger comments cooperate).

Stay tuned!

How dare he?

I just returned from reading Cecily's blog, and found a link to this article from one of the gals commenting. You need to read it- go on, I'll wait.

Ok- so let me just say that I am not going to touch the gay marriage issue. If you need to know- I support gay marriage. However- I also know that there are those who will disagree with me. That's fine. Disagreement in a civil way leads to great discussion.

But that's not the hot topic right now. Right now the issue at hand is the ignorance displayed by this man in the face of adopted children. I ask very loudly- how dare he?

I was moved- no, compelled, to write to him and let him know how unacceptable his words really are. So as not to beat a horse twice- here is the letter I wrote. If you feel as strongly as I do, please feel free to use portions of my letter in your own response to him. I do ask, though, that you keep it "clean." I'm no prude, but I have found that strong words with the absence of vulgarity go much farther toward achieving a goal.

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

John,

You are welcome to have your opinion on the gay marriage issue. Even though I support the idea of gay marriage, I recognize that it is a highly controversial topic--and it has nothing to do with why I am writing to you today.

Your recent article "The Basic Idea of Marriage is to Raise Kids" was brought to my attention by a friend who was highly alarmed by one of the undertones of this article. And so I ask you--how DARE you say that adopted children are products of the "abandoned kids store?" This is offensive in so many ways that I have trouble knowing where to begin.

First, as an adopted individual, I am personally offended that you approach adoption so lightly and with such ignorance that you say that these children have been abandoned. Abandoned implies that they were left on the roadside, doorstep, or in a dumpster. Unfortunately, these things happen, but do you really think that is the norm? These women who have found themselves pregnant and unable to manage parenthood either financially, mentally, or emotionally, have made a gut-wrenching decision to place their child in the hands of someone who CAN give them what they need. It was not taken lightly- it is not to be trivialized.

And if you refer specifically to children in the foster care system--these children need our compassion, not a verbal slap in the face. They have been through more pain in their lives than most adults. Why is it so terrible if an individual, straight or gay, wants to take that child into their home? Why must an insult be aimed at the child?

And I must know your views on those heterosexual, married couples who, for one reason or another, choose to adopt their children. Are they to be told that they are not really "married" because the child was not born of them? And of those who use artificial means for a biological child- insemination, IVF, and even sperm and egg donation. These individuals are "married" in the legal sense- must they now renounce their status because they have accepted assistance in their reproduction? What do you say to this, John?

And of those couples who choose a childfree life--should they, too, be banned from marriage? Is the government now planning to require that couples sign a contract promising to raise children in order to marry? Last time I checked, we do not live in the Vatican. Marriage is not all about raising children, it is about sharing a life with another individual. If part of that experience involves raising children- wonderful. If it does not, there should be no shame or remorse involved. And it most certainly should not involve the government. And again, I am not even touching the gay marriage issue because so much else in your candor must be addressed first.

The repetition of family values in government doctrines implies that we should always do what is best for the children. How can your comments possibly fill that need?

And so it begins…

(Warning- baby related topic)

Last night when we got home from work we found, to our delight, our first non-grandparent, shower-related gift! I have to specify because, as you might assume, we have already received stuff from my parents. The day we told them that we got a positive beta they gave us a little stuffed turtle that had obviously been waiting for just such an occasion. Too cute. Then we did get a couple of baby-related things this past Christmas, but those were decidedly not shower-related.

Anyway, I know you are in suspense, so I will tell you that it was a high chair. Not so exciting in the grand scheme of things, but a high chair definitely says that there is a baby on the way. This is the chair we chose (except that ours has navy and brown fabric). Before you start making assumptions that we are yuppie freaks who live for designer labels, I just wanted to say that it was actually my uber-hippie husband that chose this chair. He wanted a wooden one, and as you may or may not know, the pickings are slim if you are avoiding the plastic monstrosities. Also—since I’m already on this tangent—we noted that most of the chairs out there have a ruffle on the chair pad. First of all, that’s a little too girly for my taste, especially if we have a boy. Second, who the hell wants to clean food particles out of a ruffle? I want to know who the dumbass is that designed that feature on a baby article that will constantly be around soft, mushy, projectile food.

So, overall it made for a nice welcome home.

Then, A. was able to get some more of the n-room painted. Luckily, I intervened fairly early in the evening because he was putting the yellow on the wrong half of the wall. Because I couldn’t decide, we’re painting the walls yellow on the top, blue on the bottom, and adding a white chair rail to separate. He had already painted a bit on the lower half, but it can easily be covered with a bit more primer. And I stopped him early enough that he was able to finish one entire coat on the top. It will need a second one because yellow always does…sorry A.! If we keep up this pace, the room will be entirely painted by the end of the weekend.

Ok, kid, we’re getting ready!

Unexplained or male factor?

For any of those who are dealing with the dreaded diagnosis of "unexplained" infertility, this article on sperm proteins might give you some additional things to ponder. Not that it provides a therapy, mind you. I'm wondering if that was our problem because IVF with ICSI seemed to do the trick very nicely, and my body seems happy with the whole idea of pregnancy. Or perhaps I just have really mean eggs that bitch-slap any sperm that get too close to them but were lulled into compliance once the projesterone started flowing. I mean, hell, "unexplained" really opens the door for creativity, right?

As a funny aside, the last article in this issue of ScienceNOW is about the birth of stars (the ones in the sky, not the Hollywood crowd) and is called "A Hot Stellar Womb." The editor must have had fun this month.

Pregnancy Update

I had a good appointment this morning. Here's the summary:

28w3d
heart rate = 138
bp = 120/70
glucose tolerance test = passed!

My weight was higher than I had hoped, but surprisingly I did not get any harsh words from the doc. In fact, he said that I was doing fine and to keep up the good work. As of now, I'm only up 16 pounds for the whole pregnancy, so it's well within reason. They have been watching it closely, though, because I started off with *ahem* a few extra pounds. I asked my husband to be blunt about whether I had added any size to my butt, hips, legs, etc. He said that really, the only place I'm bigger is in the stomach. That was my perception, too, but when it comes to weight, I am VERY good at denial. Mind you, I would happily take any weight needed for the baby to be healthy, but I was hoping that I would find most of it front and center.

Next visit in 4 weeks and then I'm on to the 2-week visits.

Rounding Third

Today I officially hit the third trimester of my pregnancy. It is truly something that I never thought I'd ever experience. I know I'm not out of the woods yet, but if I can just get a little closer to home plate, I bet I can slide the last few feet if needed. Hopefully I won't need to slide, 'cause that just ruins a decent pair of pants.

Getting ready

Well, today we are cleaning out the n-room, and we have quite a job ahead of us. Originally, this room was always referred to as my office. It had a desk, bookcase, filing cabinet- all the good office things. Did I use it as an office? No. But it was mine, dammit, and I can call it anything I like.

It was becoming a hobby room until we decided that the finished attic was a much better location for that because we could leave our projects out and not have to worry about looking at the clutter. As an added bonus, the attic is big enough that we each have half of the room and can work there {gasp} together. So, to the attic went the desk, as it makes a lovely station for my many hobbies.

In the meantime, my office became the place for all things extra. Extra furniture, extra shoes, extra blankets, extra clothes. The place is a bit of a mess, as you might imagine. And today, we get out the shovels and get it cleared out so that "we" (meaning A, of course) can paint.

Next week we are actually heading out to IKEA to buy everything but the crib. I know, "we" won't have the room painted by then, but it's a good day for the trek to that store, and when it is finally painted, we (yes, including me this time- I'm a whiz with those little allen wrenches) can waste no time getting things set up. My folks are getting us the crib, and hopefully we'll have that in hand and assembled by the end of March. Pictures will follow (as soon as I figure out how to post them- not the Web savvy one am I).

I suppose there's no time like the present to get this bad boy in motion. I'm hoping that perhaps in the far corner of the room I might find the bermuda triangle of socks. Somehow, I have at least 10 pair of black socks with no mate. 10! Something is definitely fishy.

Is there a Nat in the house?

Very, very soon- she's on her way home!

Best wishes to Shannon and Cole.

Random Thoughts

My brain is rather fried with a huge work project, but I offer a few random thoughts…

…on pulling in a bit too much air

As I returned from lunch today (it was a lovely bean and cheese burrito if you must know), I encountered a pair of people in conversation on the elevator. I generally ignore what is being said but could not help overhearing this woman obviously and loudly sucking up to the man with whom she was speaking. People like this make me absolutely crazy. When I reached my floor, I fled the elevator quickly for fear that the vacuum created within that small space would surely extract my fetus.

…on doing things one step at a time

Now that I am obviously pregnant, people keep asking me when I’ll be having another. Excuse me? I haven’t even had one yet!

…on desk toys

Why is it that we feel compelled to decorate our offices with funny little trinkets? I’m guilty, too, as I have a whole collection of things here and there. My favorite is the Toadster- a silver toad with two pieces of nicely browned bread poking up from its back. If you like frogs and toads, there is a whole collection of this stuff here. I’m not really big on frogs/toads but couldn’t resist this one. What stupid little thing do you have at your desk?

DBTs

I believe it was Tertia who coined the term DBTs (dead baby thoughts). She suffered from them quite a bit, and many other pregnant infertiles joined the ranks. I must admit that I am there, too. One of the most glorious things that I have experienced thus far in my life is feeling the little kicks I get from the babe within. And one of the most horrifying things is when I think that it's been too long since I've felt a kick, or the kick I felt wasn't very strong, and so on. The building up to the DBTs.

Part of me says that it is completely normal to have these fears. I look back at other blog entries and think- see, they had the DBTs, too. I feel comforted for just a moment until another part of my conscious chimes in with but what if it was ok for them and NOT for you? Then you're just ignoring some critical warning signs. The back and forth is enough to drive me mad. And when I just get to the verge of calling the doctor with my concerns on having not felt much movement in a given day or two, the wee one will go full throttle into kicking, making me feel like a fool. And making me smile ear to ear at the same time.

I wish so much that I could just be of the naive group- those who assume without question that their pregnancy will be compeletely carefree. That they will never have reason to worry. That would be nice. But that part of me died after going through so much negative and so much gone wrong with infertility. My body wasn't working properly then, why the hell would it work properly now?

I must seem very detatched from this pregnancy to outside observers. The scary truth is that I am so attached that I fear the destruction of me if anything were to go wrong. I've been lucky, blessed, charmed, whatever term you choose- I have had a relatively uneventful pregnancy. I feel healthier than I ever have before. My aches and pains are minimal. I should be shouting praises from the hilltops- instead I cower in the valley caves and hope that I can just wait this thing out a little while longer.

Only 14.5 weeks to go- I can make that with my sanity intact, right?

Valentine Geek

In general, I am not a big fan of Valentine’s Day. It is far too much of a Hallmark holiday, and I tend to avoid making romantic gestures on that day. Now, if someone pays me to make romantic gestures, that’s a whole other story (wink, wink).

Ok, really, I’m not going down that road- get your damn head out of the gutter.

What I’m trying to relay is how I spent my Valentine’s Day- riding around in a car with three other women delivering singing valentines. Yes, Virginia, it’s true- I sing barbershop. And I love it. Every year I look forward to taking the day off to drive around like a crazy person making other people very happy. It’s a great way to spend the day. Yesterday was no exception.

If you are a romantic at heart and want something great to give your sweetie next year, consider supporting your local barbershoppers. It’s a hit at the office, doesn’t cost as much as roses, and won’t stay on your hips like chocolate.

Pregnancy Update

24w4d

I had a good appointment this morning. The heartbeat is nice and strong at 140bpm. I am measuring a little bit ahead, but not too much. I should have measured 24cm for 24 weeks, but given that I'm actually 24.5 weeks, and the fact that my 19w ultrasound puts me another two days ahead of that, I figure it's about normal that I measured 26cm.

The did find trace protein in my urine, but were not alarmed beyond sending me to have a urine culture. Since my OB's office is in the hospital, that means getting a scrip, going to another wing of the hospital, and peeing in another cup. Fine. With my blood pressure completely normal range and minimal swelling in my ankles, I'm not worried that this spells trouble, but I will be happy to have a clean second pee-cup.

In two weeks I go for the one hour glucose test. Oh, boy.

Buying in bulk

So, if you've ever gone to one of those big warehouse stores you find that you are immediately overwhelmed by the possiblity of having things like six pounds of peanut butter in one container, 20 pounds of rice, and so on... We actually belong to one of those clubs and try very hard to avoid going there because we will buy so many things (in bulk) that we really don't need. Last night was a great example. We went to said store for the purpose of buying guacamole for a dinner gathering this weekend. Now, before you flog me repeatedly for misuse of avocados, please understand that I live where the snow falls regularly, avocados cost more than a house, and finding decent guacamole anywhere is a miracle. When I lived in sunny California, I never settled for anything but fresh avocado guac- but those days are gone. However, they happen to have a not-too-bad version at the club store. Ok, mission accomplished.

I also decided that we should get a huge bottle of Dreft as I already had some hand-me-down baby clothes that could be washed and put away to make one less thing to do later. That is to be found no more- rats. Ok, maybe they would have some of those wonderful candied nuts we bought last time (and were very good about eating slowly)- nope, strike two.

However, into our cart did abound tortilla chips, veggie chips, guacamole, taquitos (appetizers for the weekend), salad dressing, and ice cream (the good stuff with the vanilla specks in it). As we got to the check-out I realized that we had not one piece of nutritious food in the whole cart.

No wonder they call it bulk food.

As seen on my calendar today-

Is it possible that I am so busy doing that I no longer have time to enjoy being?

-Wilson

Still here!

I've been a bad blogger- bad, bad, bad. Neglecting my blog like that pile of laundry in my basement that threatens to soon crawl away on its own.

For the most part, I haven't had a lot to say recently. Part of it has also been a sadness I feel as I see a great division forming in the infertility community. As has been mentioned on other blogs, when a group becomes large, there are always subdivisions that result. I know this is a fact of life. In fact, I should tread carefully because although I have been a reader and commenter for quite a long time, I never got around to actually authoring a blog until I became one of those pregnant infertiles. A state that is frightening and joyful all in the same breath.

I know that this will all work itself out, but right now I am in one of those emotionally vulnerable states (hormonally triggered, of course) so I tend to overreact to everything.

As I compose a more interesting post, I wish everyone health, happiness, and the pursuit of parenthood.

What’s in a name?

Most people refer to the room in their house where a sleeping baby lies as the nursery. This seems to be a pretty common occurrence. Some people who are convinced of their uber-fertility in the world will even start referring to a room in the house as the nursery long before a child has ever been conceived. I have friends who used this term from the day they bought their house. It always made me nervous because I knew that there was always a chance that something could go amiss (and this was before I ever started trying- long before I knew about my own infertility). I just became nervous when I would hear them talk about the nursery in matter-of-fact terms. Thankfully, they only had to “stop not trying” for one month to conceive their beautiful son. At that point, I had already been trying for a year and a half but had kept the news from most people. I was thinking to confide in my friend, wondering if she was experiencing the same thing, when she called me with her good news. At that point, I kept my mouth shut about my own problems because I didn’t want her to have to censor her words. I was genuinely happy for her and wanted to hear every little detail that she would share.

But back to the “N” word. I reached the 23-week mark today. Pretty damn good for an infertile who was 100% convinced that her IVF would never work. I get it that I am very lucky. But I am also so convinced that calling a particular room in our house the nursery before there is a living, breathing baby is going to cause the bowels of the earth to swallow up my dreams. I still call it the extra room. To get even crazier, I have even purchased items for said “extra room” and have no mental objection to taking that kind of action. But calling it a nursery just seems unnatural.

I’m looking forward to painting so that I can call the room by its color.

You can take the infertile off of the island, but you can’t take away her infertility.

Creepy Commercial

I was minding my own business, watching the Apprentice (the only reality TV show I tolerate), and cutting up little pieces of fabric when out of the blue I saw the creepiest commercial.

A group of boys playing in the park looks up to see a minivan pull up- ok, innocent enough so far. Music is playing…I recognize it as “Stacey’s Mom” by Fountains of Wayne. Excellent, I think, the music doesn’t suck.

The driver (mom to one of the kids, we assume) gets out and is shown in slow motion sauntering over toward the boys, a knowing smile on her lips. She stops and pushes the button on the automatic side door opener over her shoulder and the van opens. Inside, we find a cooler full of big-name soft drink.

The boys run to the van, grab a soda, and stand around oogling this mom. Mom stands there with a soda, too, and gives what I thought was a not so innocent look back to the boys. It was then that I thought- “Oh my God, those poor kids have just been lured into the hands of Mrs. Robinson!”

Maybe it was the package of the visual with the music- I don’t know. But I really did find it creepy.

Did anyone else see it?

Enviable dilemma

I’m dealing with a bit of a dilemma right now, and before I continue I will acknowledge that it is a dilemma that many people would give a limb to experience. I know that. But, it still doesn’t make it any less of a dilemma for me, so I will continue.

I mentioned in an earlier post that we are still actively volunteering for the agency through which we want to pursue an adoption. They know fully about our pregnancy and are thrilled that we will continue to work with them. In fact, one of the coordinators went so far as to insist that our biological child would be treated as a big part of the agency family (family is truly the only word to describe it)- they can’t wait for him or her to get here.

So, here is my dilemma.

I have always been involved in the “visible” volunteer activities. Working with committees on fundraising, for example. The cycle of fundraising is starting up again, and I’m torn about how to approach the situation. In a short enough time, word will either spread about my pregnancy, or it will become glaringly obvious. (Right now I am at the in between stage where people that know me well would see a pregnant belly, people who know me less well might see a fat belly. You would be stuck in the “is she?” discussion if you saw me walk past at the market- especially in my “stealth” maternity garb.) So, if I step back from the visible activities for a while, it will appear as though I have abandoned the group in lieu of my bio-kid. However, I also worry that if I stay on the committees I will be viewed as insensitive because I am flaunting my pregnant self to a bunch of infertile people. Either way I am screwed.

I tried to view it from my prepregnancy perspective. I would have been happy for the person, but there would have also been a side that thought “why not me?” I was never bothered by the presence of pregnant women, but I have friends who walk away if a pregnant woman is present. If some of the people on the committee would be bothered, I would sooner prevent that by disappearing for a while.

And, of course, because I think of the people in this group as a big family, there is a part of me that really wants to share the news with them excitedly because they are so dear to me. It is always nice to share good things with your family.

There it is- the enviable dilemma.

The first of the meetings is coming up in two days, and I am planning to attend. I’m introducing another couple to the group and I want to be there at least for their first meeting. I guess I will play it by ear after that…

Another arrival!

Warm welcome to Hannah Eilene! It's babies aplenty in the blogosphere.

a peek inside

All seems to be going well with the little (or not so little now) bean. A week ago I had my ultrasound in the midst of jet-lag and work crunch, so I’m just getting to the post now. We had opted to skip the blood tests for various markers, knowing that we would not terminate the pregnancy. We’ll just take it as it comes. So, it was nice when they did the scan to know that everything is measuring right on schedule, in fact, it seems that we have a bit of an overachiever who is two days ahead. I know, a whole two days- not earth shattering in the grand scheme of things. So, ultrasound pins me at a due date of May 28, LMP pins me at May 30, and transfer pins me at May 29. At least they can all agree.

We opted to ignore the sex bits, so when May rolls around we’ll all get to know what it is then. I have always wanted to have the moment of someone saying “it’s a…” in the delivery room, and since this will most likely be my only pregnancy, I’m going to get as many perks as possible. A. wanted to know the sex- “to be prepared.” For what? The nursery will be the same regardless (I’ll tell you all about it in a future post) and I prefer gender-neutral clothing at first. Especially given that we plan to have other kids (adopted), and they’ll need to have something to wear, too. (In case you’re wondering, our agency places newborns, so the clothing would actually get another use.)

I was definitely expecting a nice, calm baby in there, because I hadn’t yet felt any movement. Boy, was I ever wrong. It was entirely weird to see the baby moving all over the ultrasound screen, know that it was moving inside of me, and not be able to feel a darn thing. The doctor laughed and said that we had better get a bunch of baby gates for such an active child. However, this past Wednesday, I am pretty sure that I felt the little one move (on a side note, I’m trying to come up with a better reference to the little one). I was sitting at work, writing some e-mail and all of a sudden there was a very distinct flutter about three inches below my navel. It stopped me dead. I sat there for a second to see if another flutter would happen, but no such luck. I felt a couple of things later that evening, and have had the “gas bubbles” sensation a few times each day since. I look forward to every little tickle, bubble, flutter, and twinge. The whole process is simply amazing.

Today was my next check-up, and I was nervous because at the last visit I was given a stern lecture about my weight gain. I’m only allowed to gain two pounds each month and I had gained six. Oops. I made a conscious effort to make sure that I was eating better, not indulging in desserts so often (I am NOT giving them up entirely- I am not made of stone!), and walking more regularly. Well, this time I was actually down a pound. Then, of course, I worried that I had harmed the baby by losing weight. No, everything is fine, especially since I gained too much last time. Pfffhew!

The heartbeat today was cool because it sounded less muffled and more like a mature heart. BA-DUM, BA-DUM, BA-DUM, BA-DUM…

I must go and have lunch. Baby wants stuffed hot peppers!

I'm back!

In all honesty, I returned last week, but things have been a little hectic, to say the least. Not that I have been alone, mind you. Things have certainly been stirring up in the blog community. Before I can be considered too rude a fellow blogger, I must offer the following good wishes:

To Julie on the surprise arrival of little Charlie, who is thankfully now home.

Double blessings came to Tertia on the arrival of Kate and Adam. Please send a little prayer to Adam as he stays a while in the NICU. Kate is home with mom.

A big ol' sloppy one to Jo, who seems to have gotten herself knockered up.

Best wishes to Sherry, who, of course, had to one-up us other infertile preggos and is carrying twins.

A quiet, whispered NBHHY-type wish to Grrl and Sarah.

A salute to Lobster Girl and her little swimmerette.

And, a hearty HURRAH to Karen on having survived not one, but two homestudy visits in as many days. One step closer to Maya!

I know that a few others have things "brewing," and I send them many fertile thoughts as they go under the needle.

I'll write a post on our travels soon- Happy New Year y'all!