Two Weeks

I am amazed to report that SC is two weeks old. Amazed that we were blessed with an oops pregnancy that actually went to term and also amazed that it has only been two weeks. I think part of the latter is the fact that she is so much bigger than Gabe was at this age. In fact, by the time he got to this size, he was at least two months old- possibly closer to three (based on clothing comparisons). SC is long enough that she is no longer secure within the Boppy on my lap. Luckily, she is taking great naps during the day and it may eventually translate into night (she likes to be held at night). I tried the whole nursing in bed routine the other day and she was not impressed. We'll revisit that one because without horizontal nursing, the next few months or longer will not be fun. At all. The recliner is already getting old, but is still tolerable.

SC has such a personality already. She gets an absolute look of amazement when she hears the snap on my nursing bra. Her legs start to kick and she zones in for the kill. Then, she will get a devilish little grin when she is done actually nursing but still wants to play around with the boob. If you are non-lactating individual, she will give you a glance but really doesn't want much to do with you. Not yet.

And the poop! Oh my goodness, this kid likes to void. Gabe was, at times, a once a week pooper. SC is more like once an hour. Sheesh! I keep worrying that she is going too much, but she seems to be gaining weight, is content, and looks nice and healthy and rosy. Our pediatrician decided that since she had regained four ounces in two days since her hospital release and we were veteran parents that we could skip the two-week checkup. Of course, the worry mom in me (overflow from the worried pregnant lady) wonders if I should call them to schedule a weight check anyway. See? Can't turn off the worrying no matter what. Bah.

Well, I should head off. I have some brown spotty bananas with my name on them. Bread forthcoming! And I should probably eat again. There's another reason I figure she's ok- the scale on me is now down 33 pounds. And the milk just keeps on flowing (I've started my daycare stash...might as well get a jump as I don't pump well). Moo.

Back to Baseline?

I was looking through some of the baby pictures the other day and spied this one in the bunch. Mr. D took this right before I got in the car to deliver Gabe to daycare on the 13th before heading over to the hospital for my c-section. (I just loved being able to do that- be a part of Gabe's routine for that day and then see him that night with the new baby. Precious.) Anyway, I saw the picture and immediately burst out with "Oh my gawd- I was HUGE." I don't have immediate access to the picture taken right before I delivered Gabe (it's around here somewhere in the archives...) but trust me when I say that I was not nearly so, well, horizontal. It just surprised me to see my profile.

I am slowly, but surely, reclaiming my body. After Gabe was born, I was so swollen from pitocin that I was actually bigger coming home from the hospital then when I left. I proceeded to lose about 10 pounds and then kinda stopped losing weight. When Gabe turned six months old and decided that he was quite done with nursing thankyouverymuch, I joined Wei*ght Wat*chers and spent the next year losing about 55 pounds. Not too shabby. A couple of months later, I was pregnant, so my body didn't really have a long time to get used to the new weight. Not that I minded in the least.

By the end of this pregnancy, I had gained 44 pounds (belly and feet...and I think 20 pounds was feet). They say that your body will spring back to baseline after you deliver. But what is baseline for me? Pre-WW weight? Pre-pregnancy weight? Something in between? I'm curious. I am waiting a while to be sure that my milk comes in good and strong, and then I plan to start counting "nursing mom" points to get the ball rolling. But imagine my surprise when I got on the scale yesterday out of curiosity to find that I have already dropped 26 pounds! I guess SC really is eating well, because I am certainly not dieting. I'll just keep watching and see where it goes...

Blog Tour: Interred With Their Bones

One of my favorite types of book is the suspense thriller. I’m not so picky about the exact underlying premise, but I love when an author weaves a tantalizing tale that keeps me guessing till the end. That’s why when MotherTalk asked for bloggers to review a new suspense thriller, I jumped at the chance.

Interred With Their Bones by Jennifer Lee Carrell is, in a word, exciting. To add a few more words, it is also exhilarating, edge-of-your-seat, smart, mysterious, suspenseful, and compelling. For those who enjoy a great puzzle with a great deal of twists and turns, this book is a must read.

The underlying premise of the story is that a Shakespearian scholar, turned director at the famed Globe Theater, has a brief meeting with a former colleague and ends up on a whirlwind adventure. Using her vast knowledge of Shakespeare and the help of a network of friends and colleagues, the underlying mystery unfolds like the petals of a rose. There is also an element of danger throughout the book that keeps our protagonist running and the reader turning page after page. Each night, I fell asleep with the book on my chest, having succumbed to physical exhaustion long before I wanted to turn out the light.

Given my limited free time between working full time, mothering, and having something that resembles a life, I tend to become frustrated with books that are too “light and fluffy.” Maybe I’m just a book snob. Whatever you want to call it, I was definitely impressed with Carrell’s book and would recommend it to anyone that likes an intellectual suspense thriller. Just be prepared for a wild ride!

In the interest of full disclosure, in exchange for agreeing to write this review, I was provided with a copy of the book and a gift certificate.

She's here!!!!

Sorry for the blog silence, but as you can see- LittleGirl has arrived! She was born at her scheduled c-section on September 13, weighing in at 8lb6oz and measuring 22" long. I now understand why she was so darn crowded in there. Oh, and her name is Sie*na Carmi*na (ignore the *s- her name is just waaaaay too Googleable for my comfort- from here on out she'll be SC).

The c-section was great- no complaints. Of course, not much compares to 4th degree lacerations, so I think my agony from last time might sway my opinion a bit. SC is latching on like a champ, my milk is coming in well, and because I am in so much less pain than last time, I'm taking less pain meds, so I get to skip the postpartum constapation (I know, TMI).

She has already had her first bath at home and seemed less than traumatized. (Those are the curtains I made for the nursery- bold, eh? The tops have lime green ribbon ties.) In fact, the only time she really lets out a good yell is when I change her diaper or when she decides that she wants more boob...NOW. Gabe just adores being a big brother and keeps wanting to hug her. We're going to take a picture of them together this weekend and use it for a birth announcement- I'll post when it's done.
Everyone keeps asking whether I think she'll have red hair eventually. Seeing what my genes are up against (aka dark haired Italian husband) I would say no. But who on earth cares when you have such a cute little muffin to love?

Mini Me

Nope, not yet. I was just swamped at work on Friday and over the weekend decided to skip jumping on the internet because I was already cranky (we have dialup...slow, slow, slow dialup). But, I have definitely decided that LittleGirl is a mini me. I am one of those people who will hit snooze as many times as humanly possible and then skid into work right on time (or perhaps a few minutes late). Eating breakfast at home has never been a habit of mine. Breakfast? I do eat it, but I do so at the comfort of my desk. One of my file drawers is fill of cereal boxes, oatmeal, and I work in a building connected to the hospital where they make a lovely ham and cheese omlette. And coffee flows freely and then some in our office. I'm all set.

Yes, LittleGirl has been hitting the snooze alarm as far as I am concerned. Gabe was born at 38w1d, so I have officially become the person that I never met. I kept saying, "I've never met anyone whose second kid showed up more than a day or two later than the first, and even that's rare." And my statement was true. But now I have become that person. The one whose second pregnancy drags on and on. The sanity saving feature is that if she doesn't appear by Thursday...she'll be here on Thursday. The only bad thing about going that long is that people who have had scheduled c-sections at my hospital who are not actively laboring go to the bottom of the heap. One gal waited six hours for hers to start simply because a lot of other "active" cases came in. I certainly don't deny that the active cases take priority, I'm just not looking forward to potentially sitting around, sans food, for six hours. Maybe I can again be the exception and mine will happen right away. Not for an emergent reason, just because no one else needs the room ahead of me. Yes, that is what I will focus on...

I was up for two hours last night with painful BH contractions. Annoying little buggers. I had them all morning on Friday, too. At work. While trying to finish up the last two stragglers on my desk. They make you so darn, well, hopeful. Anyway, I used the time I was awake last night to finish Harry Potter. I know, I'm the last person on the planet to read book seven. And I read none of the spoilers because I like the suspense. And I refuse to post any spoilers, so I will leave it at this. Kudos to JKR for doing a fine job of ending the series. I had nearly forgotten how many loose ends floated around at the end of the earlier books, but she didn't. There they were, all tied up into little bows. Nice.

Well, I am going to finish a few things around the house and then go spend the day at my parents house with Gabe. He slept there last night (no real reason, but it did make reading at 3am a lot easier) and I would rather not be alone if anything transpires around here today.

If it does, I'll make sure you know. Oh, and make sure to stop by and congratulate Olivia Drab (not linking- dialup, remember?) and give a "baby come out" yell to Wavybrains and Indigo Girl who are both just waiting around, too.

Just me- still here

I had my checkup this morning. I'm still only 1cm dilated, so no changes on that front at all. My protein was back down to trace levels and my blood pressure never once went up in the last week. So, all is good. The doctor asked how I was feeling and I said fine, except that I feel like I'm carrying around a swimming pool. I actually gained six pounds in the last week (no one got concerned...whatever) and I can tell that it is all water weight (ok, maybe a wee bit from food because I can finally eat without having to stop after two bites...LittleGirl has definitely dropped). My clothes are so tight that as soon as I walk in the door after work I start peeling them off to change into my nightgown. If I had a mu-mu, I'd wear it. And I am not buying any new clothes to get me through, at most, another week. I have one more day of work, and I know I can find something to wear for one more day that looks presentable. After that, I'm going to live in my nightgown. Maybe I'll wear a toga on the way to the hospital.

It feels weird to know that in a week or less I will meet LittleGirl. Wow. I guess we should pick a name, huh?

And the Beat Goes On...

Yes, I am still here. 38w2d. Based on my last pregnancy, I'm running late. You can tell I have a toddler in the house because every time I think of that, my mind shifts to Ducky from The Land Before Time talking to Spike in egg-ero saying, "Get UP! You are LATE! Yep, yep, yep..." It's sad what these kids videos will do to the brain. The adult brain.

If you noticed the comments from last time, anonymous (also known as IRL friend S) had to remind us that his oldest is off to college (go R!). He called our house and left a message to the same effect. It's funny, but I never thought of S as older than me. But now that he wants to keep reminding us that his daughter is starting college at the same time that ours is being born? Well, he now qualifies as OLD. Like dirt. Ha! (Ok, just kidding- we're old like dirt, too, and trying to diaper little kids at the same time. NOW who's the silly one?)

The nursery is done (the camera is in the hospital bag and I keep forgetting to fetch it for pics, sorry). The main projects at work are done (but I seem to get new ones handed to me every time I show up. Hello? People? I'm leaving soon, ok?). And my back is starting to show it's age with the off-centered-ness of my body (I'm actually surprised it took this long considering that a mild breeze from the wrong direction can throw my back for a loop). If I make it to the end of this week, I will officially be on maternity leave.

It's weird, but I keep worrying as if LittleGirl is staying around past my due date. And she's not. But she has managed to hang on longer than Gabe did. Given Gabe's engineer mentality (he tries to take every toy apart and see how it works), I'm wondering if he wasn't just messing around with the water sack and managed to break the thing in the process. It would make sense because I never started to contract on my own. Maybe he really wasn't ready, but curiosity got the better of his in utero environment. It's possible, I guess. Or maybe I'm just making up stories to get through the next few days with some sanity intact.

Only 8 more days until my scheduled c-section.