Craziness Breeds Confidence

FYI: If you haven't already visited, please stop by and congratulate Trish on her new baby boy. He was born a week ago at 26 weeks due to severe Pre-E and is such a little fighter, but your prayers and hugs would be much appreciated.
___________________________________________________________

I'm sorry it's been a week since my last post. It's been nuttier than squirrel turds at work. One of those weeks where if I weren't pregnant, I'd be partaking in happy hour for sure. Instead, I manage my frustration by stuffing my face with food. Seems like a fair compromise to me.

The weather has also been crazy in these parts. It is starting to feel like summer - with temps in the 80's and 90's. We had a tornado watch yesterday, complete with wind gusts up to 75mph. I came home to no power, which means no TV, laptop, air conditioning or stove. Utter hell for someone who is 8 months pregnant. Thankfully, the power came back on in the middle of the night so we only had to do without for about 6 hours. Many people in MD were still left with no electric as of this afternoon so we were fortunate.

Because of the insanity, I'm almost a week behind on NaComLeavMo. I'm going to do my best to catch up because I really don't want to bow out, but I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed at how much I have to catch up on. Say it with me - I suck.
___________________________________________________________

*P-word talk and pics from this point forward*

You're probably wondering how the birth class went. I can't say I learned much that I didn't already know but I do find that I have a newfound sense of confidence. I CAN do this. I have a whole new perspective - one of determination and contentment. Labor doesn't seem so frightening anymore.

DH and I practiced relaxation techniques including massage, the birthing ball, and breathing. We discussed the different types of pain management offered at the hospital and decided which ones we are comfortable with (epidural) and which ones we would like to avoid, if possible (narcotics). We watched several videos - one of a vaginal birth, one of a c-section and one about bringing home baby. We even had our hospital tour. I remember looking around the room and thinking to myself that we could be in that very same room in just 8 weeks (more or less). I find myself drifting away and imagining what our birth experience could be like. Of course, you can never really prepare for something like that. So unexpected and unbelievable. But it makes me feel good to stay positive and keep my mind focused on the prize.

I think DH also got a lot from this. Ever since it ended, he has been really pumped up about being my coach and taking an active interest in the birth. I think he definitely feels more connected to the baby as a result. His unabashed excitement keeps me going and we feed off of each other's energy. We both feel ready. Ready to meet this little guy. I just hope this enthusiasm continues to build over the coming weeks. It's invigorating to let go of the fear long enough to let this feeling wash over me.
___________________________________________________________

My boss did finally give me some pics from my surprise shower. I promise to upload them and share them soon, even though I look like a tool with no makeup and a stupified grin.

In the meantime, since the last ones I shared were from 11 weeks ago, I'll leave you with some belly pics taken last week at 30 weeks. We're getting there, baby. We're getting there.

Back to Boring

*P-word appointment discussed*

30 weeks. We're in the final stretch. 10 more weeks - maybe less - until I hold my baby boy in my arms. What a thought. It almost brings tears to my eyes, except that I can hardly believe it myself.

I couldn't be happier to share that I passed the 3-hour GTT. That sound you hear is me exhaling as I wipe the sweat from my brow. If I had to go all summer without a snowball or ice cream, I would be one miserable pregnant woman. Instead, I can indulge in a slice of cheesecake without putting myself or my little one in harm's way. We're back to boring. And I love it.

BP is good. Sunshine's heart rate is perfect. Weight is consistent with 1 lb. a week (about +32 lbs so far). My fundal height is measuring about 32 weeks but my OB said that although it is a bit big, it is completely normal. Does this mean I have a big boy on my hands? I hope he doesn't get TOO big because I can't imagine pushing out an 8 or 9 lb. baby vaginally.

I asked her about safe bug repellents, as I'm being eaten alive every time I attempt an outdoor exercise routine. She said that pregnant women have a different PH level that makes us more susceptible to mealtime for insects. She recommended natural citronella oil or Off Spray for Babies, so I'll be hitting the drugstore at some point this weekend to ward off the buggers.

The most exciting part of the appointment was finding that he is officially head down. Hopefully, he stays that way and he's just an early bird like his Mommy. His movements are becoming less swift kicks and more bumps, bulges, and belly quakes. I guess he is slowly running out of room in that Ole' Ute. This week, I've finally been able to identify hiccups. They are really soft, rhythmic taps every few seconds inside below my bellybutton. They last for about 10-15 minutes. Sometimes, I can see him jump from the outside. At first, it made me grin to think he was drinking too fast or breathing in fluid. But then I noticed that he gradually becomes irritated and unsettled as the hiccups continue. So, I reasoned that perhaps the hiccups are of the more painful variety and now, I just rub my belly and assure him it will all be over soon.

This weekend is our birth class. I am looking forward to it, although I'm not really sure what to expect. Even if I don't learn much more than I've already researched, it will be good for DH to see all that is involved and assume his role as my coach and support. We'll also have our hospital tour so we'll get to see what's in store for us. It's unbelievable to think that I could be delivering there soon. Blows my mind.

I'm aware that I owe you guys a belly pic. I promise I'll have DH take one tonight so I can share it with everyone. I feel humongous and it doesn't help that people keep commenting that "I can't believe you have to go all summer long! That must be a BIG baby!". I should be proud of my big bump but instead, I find myself ashamed and self-conscious. Hopefully, along with growing a little human, I can also grow a backbone over the next few weeks and tell people to piss off. Sweetly of course.

Round Two With Orange Goo

I had my 3-hour GTT this morning. All I can say is thank goodness it's over. 4 blood draws later (fasting glucose and then one blood draw for each hour after drinking the orange gloop) left me with arms resembling those of a heroin addict but I'm happy to report that I survived. Now, my fate rests in the hands of the lab. I can call in Thursday afternoon for the results, if they aren't available during my routine appointment that morning.

I got a little nauseous and shaky from fasting for 12 hours. I felt dizzy and wondered if I might pass out or puke on the floor. But neither actually happened. There was another woman there for her 3-hour, so we immediately formed a kinship to pass the time. We got to talking and wouldn't you know that she was pregnant with twins from IVF? Her husband was diagnosed with MFI and she had PCOS so they went straight to IVF and were lucky enough to conceive their daughter on the first try. Their twins were conceived on their first FET. It was nice to communicate with someone who was a fellow IFer rather than someone who just wanted to moan and groan about an "oops" pregnancy. I would have surely had to bury my nose in a book in that instance. But I was fortunate enough to be spared and enjoy some good conversation from someone who gets the anxiety, the stress, the gratefulness and the appreciation of such a miracle. Sometimes it feels like there are so few of us in real life even though there is strength in numbers in my online world.
___________________________________________________________

After my crappy Thursday last week with the test results, I had the best surprise on Friday when my co-workers threw me a shower! My boss tricked me into thinking we were having my annual review but when we opened the door, everyone was standing in this beautifully decorated room with food and gifts galore, shouting "Surprise!". I stood there, stunned - and apparently red in the face as everyone commented on my cardinal hue. It figures it happened on a casual Friday so I was dressed down and not wearing any makeup. But it didn't really matter.

FYI - for those of you who get as turned on by food as I do, the menu included: an edible arrangement including chocolate dipped fruit, Amish friendship bread, lemon poppyseed muffins, bagels, and cinnamon buns. Did I tell you that I love these people?

I have to say that Sunshine made out like a bandit. Everyone was so generous. I am still in shock. I sat there opening presents as a guest of honor and was in utter disbelief. I remember thinking to myself, this isn't happening. This must be for someone else. It can't be for me. Can it? Remind me again, am I truly, dare I say, pregnant?

I don't have any pics yet from my boss but as soon as I get some, I'll be sure to share. I will also try to organize the gifts and take a photo so everyone can see.
___________________________________________________________

NaComLeavMo sort of snuck up on me this weekend but I finally caught up tonight with 15 comments. I am so excited to meet new people and read new experiences. It feels like the first day of school all over again.
___________________________________________________________

Remember, I mentioned a few posts back about family drama? Well, I've finally written out my feelings here. The post is password-protected so if you care to read and comment, please email me for the magic word.

Don't worry - I won't be abandoning Sticky Bean anytime soon. This is just an alternate, more private space for me to bitch and moan, if anyone cares to listen to such things. Feel free to offer me more cheese with my whine.

The Smell of Failure

I just got the news that I failed the 1-hour GTT. Totally took the wind right out of my sails.

I thought I was doing so well with my diet. I really haven't been a sugar fanatic at all and have been trying to eat healthier in the past few months. Lots of fruits and veggies. It makes me sick to think that my body or my food choices could be hurting my son.

My 3-hour test is on Tuesday. I pray that my pancreas can pull through on that one.

Making My Day

I'm delighted to announce that I've been granted the You Make My Day award by both Katie and Farah. This is just what I needed on a blah Monday morning. Those girls definitely have been a huge support system for me (as well as numerous others in our community) and they put a smile on my face everyday when I go to check in on their blogs. You both have no idea what this means to me - thank you so much! Okay, as I'm on the edge of hormonal tears, I have to choose several more bloggers who make my day:

Chicklet @ Bloorb This!

Hilary @ The Trying Game

Geohde @ Mission Impossible

Meghan @ A Little Sweetness

Doc Grumbles @ Dr. Grumbles I Presume

R&R @ Roadblocks and Rollercoasters

There are so many more of you who I would like to recognize. If you're listed on my blogroll (or even if you're not!), believe me, you make my days brighter. It amazes me that you all have read my ramblings for close to 20 months now and still decide to come back time and time again. I am so lucky to have friends like you.

28 Weeks: The Boredom Continues

*Preggo talk below*

28 weeks today. If Sunshine were to be born this week, he would have a 90% chance of surviving (with some assistance, of course). I am still hoping he stays in the oven for many more weeks but I am feeling good about those odds.

With this mini-milestone comes another OB appointment. I had my glucose tolerance test (GTT) today. It wasn't nearly as bad as I had anticipated. I thought the orange liquid would be gloopy like syrup. Instead, it was just like a flat, orange Shasta. Sweet and made my tummy a little upset but tolerable. The hardest part was not eating anything after my small breakfast. I need my mid-morning snack and my lunch around noon. Eating has definitely become a sport for which I could easily attain a bronze medal if it were included in the Olympic Games.

However, despite my constant grazing, the OB was content with my weight gain (about +28-29 lbs). My blood pressure was a healthy 102/64. And Sunshine's heart rate was somewhere around 160. So, no surprises there. Still happily accepting the position of "boring OB patient". He did kick the doppler twice and my belly moved in waves as he tried to dodge the pressure on my abdomen. He really didn't appreciate the invasion of his living space. He also kicks pretty much anytime I innocently rest my hand or arm on my belly - aggressively I might add. He has definitely claimed it as his own. Vacant real estate has become quite valuable in the land of U'trus so I can totally understand his frustration - even if it secretly makes me giggle. Feisty little guy.

I also had my Rho-gham shot today. It stung a little but no biggie. Odds are Sunshine has Daddy's RH+ blood and not Mommy's rare RH- so it was one of those necessary evils.

Not much else to report. Just the norm. I should only get a call from the OB if I happen to fail so I hope not to hear from them before my next appointment in two weeks.
__________________________________________________________

I couldn't help but sneak a peek off of my registries this week - I know, bad girl! - and noticed that the first few items have been purchased! I am so excited. I believe my shower will be sometime next month, although the exact date is a surprise. I just can't comprehend how this is all coming together.

I stare at the items in the unfinished nursery and can't imagine having a baby in the flesh to wear the clothes or play with the toys. But at the same time, I am so eager to have him here. I find myself drifting off and daydreaming about what he might look like in those adorable sleepers. What toys might make him smile or laugh. Or what his cries might sound like as I lay in bed, waiting for sleep to take over. I'm so attached to the idea already.

So far, I have to say I have enjoyed this pregnancy. It has gone quite smoothly, aside from a few small hurdles which we managed to sail over with relative ease. I am utterly grateful and thankful. I take the constipation, the heartburn, the back pain, the leg cramps and all of the other joys of pregnancy in stride with minimal complaints. And I adore feeling him move around inside of me. It is unexplainable how it feels to know that I have a little person in there. Every kick or twitch reassures me that it is all so worth it.

And while I try not to rush things (or worry the time away) and enjoy each moment - as these memories are so short-lived - I can't help but sometimes wish there was a fast forward button. I just can't wait for him to be a part of our family. We've wanted him for so long and his arrival is feeling so close and yet so far away. I just want to get there. I want to know that we will get there. If only there was some sort of guarantee.

My son. My new love. Only 12 weeks until our dreams should become a reality.

What Makes A Mother?

Last year at this time, I was in a sad place emotionally. I wondered if I would ever be a mother. And on this particular painful holiday one year ago, I felt more lost than ever. I threw myself a pity party of one while I observed my dream being lived out through others' eyes. Celebrations focused on the fertility I seemed to lack. After seeing umpteen commercials for baby products and motherly love over the course of a week, I became numb. My nerve endings just couldn't handle the twisting knife anymore.

Even with a serendipitous, unexpected BFP just a few days later, and with Hope looming over my shoulder, my second miscarriage again made me question whether or not motherhood would ever be in the cards.

Even now, as I am closer than ever before to my dream, I wonder if I will really be a mom. Am I considered a mother as I carry the baby inside of me right now at this moment? Is it only after you give birth that you are considered a mother? What about the two children I gave birth to much too early - do they matter on this day? I've received gifts, cards and phone calls, assuring me that this Mother's Day counts. But I still have doubt. What exactly makes a mother?

I found this poem online and even if you are not a Christian, I think you will be able to relate to some degree:

What Makes A Mother

I thought of you and closed my eyes; and prayed to God today. I asked what makes a Mother and I know I heard him say...A Mother has a baby, this we know is true. But God can you be a Mother, when your baby's not with you?

Yes you can, he replied with confidence in his voice. I give many women babies, when they leave is not their choice. Some I send for a lifetime; and others for a day. And some I send to feel your womb, but there's no need to stay.

I just don't understand this God, I want my baby here. He took a breath and cleared his throat; and then I saw a tear. I wish I could show you, what your child is doing today. If you could see your child smile with other kids and say, "We go to Earth to learn our lessons of Love and Life and Fear, My Mommy Loved me oh so much, I got to come straight here."

"I feel so lucky to have a Mom, who had so much love for me. I learned my lesson very quickly, my mommy set me free. I miss my Mommy oh so much but I visit her each day. When she goes to sleep, on her pillow's where I lay."

"I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek; and whisper in her ear. Mommy don't be sad today, I'm your baby and I'm here." So you see my dear sweet one, your children are okay. Your babies are here in my home; and this is where they'll stay. They'll wait for you with me, until your lesson is through. And on the day that you come home; they'll be at the gates for you.

So, now you see what makes a Mother, it's the feeling in your heart. It's the Love you had so much of; right from the very start.

Though some on earth may not realize, you are a Mother, until their time is done. They'll be up here with Me one day and know that you are the best one!

By Jennifer Wasik


Happy Mother's Day and all my love to each of you - whether you've given birth to a child or adopted a child, whether you're expecting a child through pregnancy or adoption, or for anyone who is a Mother in their heart and soul. May your bodies catch up to your hearts and may next Mother's Day be yours to celebrate.

I will never forget.

Sweet Relief

*P-word mentioned mildly*

My apologies for not posting in a whole week. Things have been a bit crazy as you might imagine, as we're getting down to the wire.

27 weeks yesterday. Officially in the third trimester. Whoa. If you would've told me 6 months ago that I'd be here, I would've surely been a skeptic. Hell, I probably would've had a good laugh at your expense. And yet here we are. Sunshine grows stronger by the day and I'm sure I sound like a broken record at this point, but I'm in awe of his progress and mine. Things are slowly coming together and taking shape.

I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I had my maternity leave discussion with my supervisor yesterday and it went better than I expected. I was incredibly nervous, but in the end, I got everything I hoped for. My last day of work will tentatively be Friday, August 1st, although I've told them I will work from home until I go into labor (I just didn't want my water breaking at my desk!). This is assuming I have no issues that will require bedrest beforehand. I will have an 8-week leave of absence after the birth. Unpaid, which sucks, but is what I anticipated working for a small company. I have banked a few weeks of vacation time, which will help financially until I return full-time. My new work schedule come October will be working in the office 2 days per week and at home 3 days per week. DH and my mom will be filling in on the in-office days. After 90 days, they will review my performance and let me know if this schedule can become permanent or if we need to negotiate a new plan. In other words, I will need to bust my ass to prove I can be a mom and still maintain a career. It won't be easy by any stretch of the imagination but I know I can do this. It's all about balance but my family will always come first.

I feel at peace with my plan. We won't have to put Sunshine in daycare, which is such a relief to me. I'd much rather he stay with family that I know and trust. Just browsing daycares on Craig's List brought on the waterworks so I can't imagine how it would be after he is here in the flesh. And this way, I can still contribute financially to our family and continue the career that I love and that I've worked so hard to attain. I can help us continue to save for a house in this crappy economy. And I can help us to afford things for our little boy that we would not be able to afford if I did not work.

I'm very happy and thankful that they are willing to be so flexible so that I can give my son the attention he so rightly deserves.
_________________________________________________________

My mom has kindly offered to pay for our crib and MIL has kindly offered to pay for our changing table. They actually offered months ago but I didn't take them up on it until now. I just didn't feel comfortable with taking that huge, giant step. Until today, that is. I forwarded them both the links to our furniture picks so it is now out of my hands. No taking it back now. Someday soon, we'll get the call for pickup. And we'll have the bare bones basics of the nursery. Part of me feels refreshed to cross yet another thing off of the to-do list but another part of me feels as though I've just gone and jinxed myself.

My boss has also started to pass on hand-me-downs from her two boys. A bouncer. A diaper bag. Random toys. Some great stuff in excellent condition. I'm no snob - not everything has to be brand spankin' new - so I happily agreed to accept. Sunshine is going to have quite the collection even before the shower. What a lucky guy.
_________________________________________________________

Strangers may have noticed (aka ogled) my belly for the past 2 months now but are just recently starting to get brave enough to comment. Someone actually asked me, "how many weeks do you have left?". They looked a bit shocked that I still had 3 months to go. I know I'm large and in charge right now for how far along I am. I feel proud of my belly but at the same time it feels awkward to take responsibility for it. It's like I am caught off-guard whenever anyone mentions my condition. I'm a bit underprepared to answer the most obvious of questions, but yet delighted that other people get joy from my responses. No weird belly-grabbers yet though and hopefully it will stay that way. __________________________________________________________

There's some family drama going on. I'm not going to mention the who, what, when, where, why & how since I can't PWP specific posts - in the rare instance they may find this blog. But I really, really want to express my thoughts. Any ideas on how to get around this without going private or switching to Wordpress?

When Boring = Greatness

*P-word appointment discussed below*

My OB appointment this morning was uneventful and as I've said before, I wouldn't want it any other way.

Urine good. BP fine. I was delighted when I got on the scale and it read that I was (only) up 25-26 lbs. That equates to a pound a week so I am happy with that. I knew my digital scale at home was up to evil tricks. He is still on my shit list after the last reading so I can no longer depend on him to reliably tell me how I'm gaining. Incompetent bastard.

Sunshine is still doing a phenomenal job in there. After an inactive day yesterday in which I nearly had a bowel movement in my pants out of fear, his heartbeat is still nice and strong at 149. Fundal height is right on target. I asked the OB about kick counting and she said NOT to do it. She said that every baby is different when it comes to movement and if I start counting kicks, I will just drive myself bonkers. She said to take note of his usual pattern and if I notice I haven't felt movement in a 12-24 hour period, I could call them for an ultrasound aka technological reassurance.

I was given my glucola drink and instructions for my GTT, which is in 2 weeks. I should also get my Rho-gham shot at that appointment. I'm really not dreading either one. In a way, I'm excited. I consider it another long-awaited milestone. I am pretty confident that I don't have GD and I just want to get it over with. I mean, you never know for sure but I am choosing to be blissfully naive at this point and not to drive myself crazy with worry. I do that enough between listeriosis, toxoplasmosis and other much more rare diseases. I have a 3% chance of having GD and about a .000008% chance of contracting listeria yet the latter scares me half to death. Go figure. I've been there, done that twice now with the Rho-gham so it no longer intimidates me. I'm thrilled that at least this time, I'm not being stabbed in the ass after the news that my baby has just unknowingly died inside of me. At least I pray not.

From now through 36 weeks, I will be going to the OB every 2 weeks. And then it is every week. Can it already be that time? I was able to schedule all of my remaining appointments right smack until my due date. It's unreal to look at the piece of paper with all of the dates listed. There really aren't that many - just 9 more appointments. We can get there. We will get there.

Today's an optimistic day.

99 Days

*P-word talk and baby prep below*

We're into double digits. My ticker just hit 99 days to go. Awe-inspiring. I remember when it said I had about 250 days to go and it seemed like a lifetime. Now I find myself wondering where all the time went.

Just about one more week until the final trimester. Father Time seems to be flying on his magic carpet, which is welcoming after a first trimester that just dragged on and on. I am now feeling "under the gun", as I realize I have approximately 3 months left until my due date. And that just isn't. enough. time. Then again, is there ever? It always seems to sneak up on you - even if you are the most prepared person on the planet. With all of my anxiety, I just procrastinated and now it is catching up with me. It is still hard to imagine bringing a real live baby home. But I need to err on the side of caution and get my behind in gear just in case this isn't just a fantasy. I certainly don't want to actually get to the point of delivering a healthy baby and then having no place for him to sleep or nothing for him to poop and pee into simply because I was scared to believe. He deserves much better than that. So I need to step it up.

I think I've begun the infamous "nesting" phase. I can't stand to look at the clutter in my apartment. This past weekend, we disassembled some furniture that we are donating to the Salvation Army to make room for Sunshine and unpacked some boxes that needed to be moved to our den/office. There are still several small boxes for us to go through but it is probably just junk that can be tossed (it's amazing what you hang onto with every thread of your being and all of a sudden, you have a reason to let it go without a second thought). Then, we can start on the nursery. Painting the whole room is a big no-no according to our lease, which sucks ass. However, we may rebel a little and paint a border or something. We haven't fully decided yet. I'm more inclined just to leave the cream-colored walls and use nautical wall decor to dress it up, while DH insists on having a painting project. So, stay tuned to see who comes out on top with that one.

Next project is to clean up our bedroom - since he will be sleeping in his Pack 'N Play in our room for the first few months - and go through clothes or other items that can be given to charity or packed away. That means pretty much all of my pre-pregnancy clothes can be organized and stored since I have no idea when I'll fit in those again. I've even grown out of one of my under-the-belly maternity slacks. You know it's bad when you have to wear a Bella Band with pants that are made specifically to accomodate a belly.

I declare the scale as my enemy. I shall not, from this day forward, step into his personal space and he shall not taunt me with his ever-amusing addition. At 26 weeks, I'm up 28 lbs. A little more than I would like to be but it is hard to maintain your weight when you feel like you are starving every 2 hours. I've replaced ice cream with fro-yo and I've replaced many of my enriched flour products with wheat or whole grains. I've even been working in an exercise program - walking for about an hour on the local trail as weather permits. But quantity seems to be overriding quality at this point. As healthy as I try to be, it doesn't matter. The weight is going nowhere but up. And by avoiding the scale, I can feel good about what I'm eating and what I'm doing, instead of feeling like an incompetent failure.

In other news, Sunshine seems to have taken a liking to my right ribcage. He always seems to kick me on that side or bunch himself into a little nook or cranny up there. Not so comfortable for mama but whatever makes him happy makes me happy. Pain really is pleasure in this instance. It is quite hard to distinguish some of his more violent movements from Braxton Hicks. How do I know which is which? For as much as I've read, you'd think I'd be an expert. But instead I feel utterly clueless.

Irrationality

Irrationality is crying for 3 hours and 11 minutes over losing a bid on Ebay for an Old Navy monkey romper. Granted, the hostile bidder suspiciously waited until I had less than a minute left on my auction, denying me the ability to counter. But you would have thought the world was going to end. My whole evening was ruined from this discovery. My son was supposed to have that romper! I imagined him in it. And then it was gone. Poor DH spent those 3+ hours of hysterics trying to find a similar outfit online to no avail.


I knew I was being unreasonable. It was almost like an out of body experience where I was hovering above myself, telling myself to stop being so dramatic. After all, there are sooooo many more things in life that are much more important. But my emotions were uncontrollable. Rage. Disappointment. I just had to get it out.


The only thing that got me to calm down was a "speeze" incident, in which I sneezed and promptly peed through my underwear and yoga pants onto the couch. I didn't even realize I had to pee. I couldn't help but giggle after that. Guess I need to work on those Kegels...

Viability, Etc.

*Sporadic p-word talk*

Today marks 24 weeks aka "the point of viability". Our baby boy, if born today, would have a 50% chance of surviving. I'm not a gambler but I know enough not to bet the farm on those odds. I pray he stays put for another 13+ weeks. Each additional day in the womb gives us a better chance. But it is a small relief to know that he has a chance, slim as it is, if disaster should strike. My next "mini-milestone" is 28 weeks, when his chances increase to over 90%. One month. I know we can do it. I have to believe we can make it.

After two quiet days, Sunshine is back to his old antics. I think I heard the faint noise of a Sweatin' to the Oldies tape in my uterus this morning because he sure was doing his aerobics. It didn't help that DH's phone rang at 5am to the tune of Margaritaville. Sunshine must be a Jimmy Buffet fan like his daddy. He was grooving up a storm in there, making it impossible to fall back asleep. As much as I adore my sleep, I could never complain about staying up for something as precious as that.

I am quite proud of myself for making another big step this week. I scheduled our birth and breastfeeding classes. Booked for May 31-June 1 and June 11, respectively. It's hard to imagine a live baby coming out of me and clutching my breast. I feel his kicks and logically, I know he is in there and will have to come out somehow, someway. But I'm still not prepared for the moment of meeting him for the first time. It seems like a distant dream, as if I'm a naive girl with my head in the clouds, dreaming about Prince Charming. I keep hoping that with each mini-milestone we reach, that it will just hit me out of nowhere like a ton of bricks. We are seriously having a baby. But no, it hasn't. I still have the essence of self-preservation stirring beneath my round exterior.

Still working on my registry. Just when I think it is complete, I read something on Consumer Reports or see or hear through the grapevine about a new item I just have to add. *cough* Ergo carrier *cough*. I need to walk away. It is becoming an addiction. There is no way a new baby needs all of this stuff but I just. can't. stop. I need help.

I've also been researching maternity/newborn photographers. I think I may have found one for a steal. DH and I discussed it and we will probably do this instead of the second 3D/4D ultrasound were were planning on. I'd love to remember the way I looked (even if retouching is needed for my 13-year old acne-laden skin), and remember my son - all tiny and wrinkly like a Shar Pei. Time passes you by so quickly and these pictures will be my constant reminder. The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The calm after the storm. I never want to forget and I never want to take it for granted.

On an administrative note, my blogroll was in desperate need of some attention, so you may have noticed the housecleaning. I was so delighted to move so many of us from TTC to PG and from PG to Parenting. But I was also disheartened to move a few from PG back to TTC. It just tears me apart. And its not fucking fair. Not much else to say except that even though I am where I am, I have not forgotten where I came from. I think of all my TTC sisters constantly and a great deal of my worship each Sunday is spent on all of you.

P.S. If I mistakenly added you to the wrong category, deleted your blog, or if you just want to be added (lurkers included!), please leave a comment or email me. I want to stay on top of things!

Kicks and Giggles

*Baby talk and vid below*

Sunshine was quite active this morning so I thought I'd try to catch him in the middle of his Riverdance practice. The movements are much more pronounced IRL but if you watch closely, you can see him showing off for the camera. Be warned that my bellybutton now looks quite disturbing and resembles lips, so it may haunt you long after viewing.

Without further ado, here is my first vlog! Baby kicks at 23 weeks, 2 days:

It couldn't possibly get any better than this, could it?

Beware of the Bipolar Preggo

*P-word and baby items below*

I truly believe I've become bipolar in these last 5 (almost 6 - holy crap!) months. I have my good days and bad days. On my good days, I'm ecstatic, comfortable and easy-going. I can look down and enjoy my ever burgeoning belly and stare at the few baby clothes and toys we have scattered in our spare bedroom (which shall one day become a nursery, God willing). On my bad days, I'm discombobulated, insecure and borderline depressed. I can't think straight and fear overrides my joy. Obviously, with the headbutting incident one week ago, I had a string of bad days. Waiting for inevitable doom to strike. But now, I am feeling much more positive. I'm getting back some of my happiness. And while I know anything can still happen, I am looking on the bright side.

It helped to have another reassuring OB appointment on Friday. Heartbeat on our little boy was nice and strong - still in the 150's (eat that, old wives tales!). He even threw in two great big kicks to the doppler for fun. She told me not to worry about what happened last week, but to call from here on out if I should happen to fall, get into a fender bender, etc. My next routine appointment is on May 2nd and I'll be 26 weeks. 2 weeks after that, on May 15th, I'll have my glucose test. It all seems to be happening so fast. And yet I still can't wait to see his little face. To smell him and touch him. Hear him cry and laugh. See him smile. Watch him as his personality develops. I love the bond I share with him through pregnancy. He kicks me and only I can feel it. As selfish as that sounds, I do love having him "all to myself" right now. But, I think I will enjoy the reality of motherhood much more than pregnancy. Right now, the fear of the unknown leaves me breathless. If only I had a little window into my uterus. Maybe somewhere in my bellybutton. Then, I could probably enjoy this experience to the fullest. I really am trying to let go and live "fertile"-style. But I'm not sure if I'll ever reach that goal.

P.S. I forgot to ask my OB about the premature mooing. I have leaked even more in the past two days and I am positive it is colostrum. My right boob gets a little sore and tingly and when I take a peek, it's already beading at the surface. And it dries yellow onto my bra. I'm hoping this means my supply will be great upon his arrival. For certain, it means breast pads are in my very near future.

___________________________________________________________

With that being said, I'm feeling up to talking about our registry. Just saying it out loud blows my mind.

R&R had a great post about developing her registry. It truly is an overwhelming experience that I could relate to. Who knew that bottle nipples come in 4 or more styles? Level I for slow flow, Level II for medium flow, Level III for fast flow and Y-cut for thicker fluids. I seem to learn a new nugget of knowledge from BTDT moms everyday. Make sure the bottles are BPA-free. Pampers diapers but Huggies wipes. Medela Pump in Style pump is the only choice for working moms. I have over 100 items on my registries at both BRU and Target. It's enough to make anyone's head spin. Sure, some of these are "wants" and not "needs" but I don't know how I'd dwindle it down to any less than 75. The emotional appeal of advertising has something to do with this, I'm sure. And I should know since I work in advertising. I feel like I need everything. And I want it because I want my son to have everything. I want to give him everything.

Without further ado, here are a few of our selections:

We've decided on a sailboat theme for his nursery. Walls will be light blue and the furniture will be white, rather than cherry. For wall decor, I am going to buy a life ring and an oar to hang. I'll either paint or use boat stickers on the life ring to spell out his name, rather than using hanging letters.

Here is the travel system we chose. It's the Graco Quattro in Deco. We loved the pattern (the parts with dots almost feel like felt) but we also liked that you can use the carseat for up to 30 lbs.

I chose the Sassy MAM bottles from Amazon. They are BPA-free and are kinda cute and funky. The nipples are supposed to mimic breastfeeding and the design is anti-colic a la Dr. Brown's. We also have Medela bottles on our registry in case he prefers a standard bottle to a wide-neck (and I can pump directly into the Medela ones so there is a convenience factor) but I figure it can't hurt to have options.

I had a really difficult time finding a diaper bag I liked. It was either too cheap and corny or too expensive and ornate. I couldn't justify spending $300 on a diaper bag so I was delighted when I found this one from Skip Hop for $54. It is colorful and practical, in price and style. And I think the colors go well with our travel system.

Well, I think I've jibber-jabbered on for long enough. I hope you enjoyed the tour. They'll be more to share soon.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

*P-word and worrywart alert*

This weekend was going so well. I was in a blissful state, even admiring baby items in BRU on Saturday. Building a registry. A registry for a real live baby! I was feeling confident and strong, more so than I had in my entire pregnancy.

Until yesterday.

My 21-year old cousin is currently attending Villa Julie College for her Psych degree and has been dying to see some family. She had also come down with a nasty case of vasculitis a week ago so my aunt wanted to check on her and make sure she was okay. So, my mom, aunt, 4-year old cousin and I decided to pay her a visit. It would be a girl's day out - aside from the preschooler in tow. We checked out her dorm - which brought back some college memories and made me feel OLD - and grabbed some lunch. After our extreme noshing, we headed to the mall to do some shopping and walking and just to chat. Well, the preschooler was acting up and running around as 4-year old boys tend to do. And wouldn't you know that in the middle of the handbag section - BAM! He ran head first into the right side of my belly.

I felt as if my whole body was a balloon that had been deflated. All of my security slipped away from me and I was THISCLOSE to being in tears. All I could think of was "is my baby okay?". I wasn't in tremendous pain and I think the shock of what happened was more intense than the action itself. I tried to continue shopping but my nerves were so on edge that I couldn't concentrate on anything else. So, my mom, the designated driver, had to take everyone home early. Call me the Party Pooper.

Everyone was understanding and my aunt apologized for his behavior. And truth be told, I wasn't really angry with him. Yes, I guess she should have been disciplining him and stopping him from running in the store. But at 4 years old, I understand that he doesn't have the capacity to grasp how gentle you have to be with a paranoid, subfertile pregnant lady. I was just angry at the situation. I was so happy for a few days. So incredibly happy. I was starting to come out of the fog and believe in this. And now, I am back to my old, cynical, delusional self. All I can think of is placental abruption or that the impact hurt my baby somehow. I am so angry that I can't be allowed to live in peace but fear for the remainder of this pregnancy. And I am so tired of it. I don't want to become agoraphobic but I feel this need to protect myself and my son from the outside world. I want to lock myself away from everyone for the next 4 months. I feel doomed. I try to let go but I am always dragged back into the reality that is IF and loss.

I have not had any cramping or spotting and my abdomen is not tender to the touch. He kicked me a few times after dinner last night, right on time for his evening routine. And I am trying to reason with myself that he is surrounded by shock-absorbent amniotic fluid and is well protected from incidents like this. But these things are actually of little comfort. And I don't know why. Why can't I just shake this?

Sometimes, I wish I didn't know what I know. I wish I didn't know the dark side. Then I wouldn't have to be so afraid.

I just want a healthy baby boy to arrive in August. Or July. Sometime this summer - I don't care when. I just hope that isn't too much to ask.

Keeping it Light

After my last post, I needed to write something a bit more lighthearted. Something that would take my mind off of all of the sadness, if even for a moment. I have a lot to share but I'll try to keep it short. Try being the operative word. We all know how verbose I can become. *wink*

P-word mentioned below

I think DH and I have come up with a name. More like I came up with a name that DH didn't veto. I had a list of 5-7 names and only one survived the cut. However, I think I'll make you all sweat it out until his birthday. For now, it is something that we would like to keep between ourselves. We did make the unfortunate choice to tell close friends and family and some of the reactions were less than thrilling. So, I've decided to share it with no one else until he is born. That way, people will be less inclined to express their negativity or suggest unwanted substitutes. He is OUR baby and if we are happy with his name, I know everyone else will come around. For now, on this blog, he will remain "Sunshine".

Speaking of Sunshine, he let Daddy feel him from the outside for the first time tonight. His kicks have gradually gotten stronger and I find his movements much more consistent. Especially in the evening. When I'm propped up watching TV or on the computer, I swear he decides to dance a jig in there. It is the most awe-inspiring feeling. I'm still not sure if it has really sunk in that there is a live baby in there making those thumps and bumps. It almost tickles inside and makes me giddy. But I am not taking any of this for granted. I cherish each sense of movement as if it will never happen again.


On a funnier note, my nipples have started to leak. I was changing after work yesterday and I noticed a quarter-sized stain on my bra that could only be colostrum, exactly where my right nipple would be. Nothing on the left side. Go figure. I immediately freaked out. This wasn't supposed to happen until the third trimester! He's not ready to come out yet! But after talking to some BTDT moms and consulting Dr. Google, I rest assured that it is normal. A bit early to start mooing but normal. Whew.

Total weight gain at 21 weeks is approximately 18 lbs (according to my indecisive digital scale). My goal is to gain 40 lbs. or less so I think I'm on track. All of the tempting Easter candy is not helping me though, I must say.

Well, that's about all for now. I'll save the registry talk for next time. It feels good to be able to even consider a registry. REAL good.

Sensitive Topic Ahead

There is a post I read on FF yesterday that really got to me, and I just need to express my feelings about it. It is still eating me up inside and I am hoping that if I can get this out, I can find peace about all of it.

There was a 41-year old woman who posted on the General Pregnancy Chat forum. She is/was 21 weeks along. She had just confirmed through amnio that her baby girl had Down Syndrome. And she and her husband made the decision to terminate the pregnancy. They did not want the burden of a child with special needs. She said that adoption was not an option for them and while heartbreaking, termination was her (and her husband's) final decision.

Needless to say, this caused quite a stir on the boards - as many infertile women took offense to ending a pregnancy over a condition that is not life-threatening. Parents of children with Down Syndrome also spoke up and tried to educate her about the condition. Some even offered to adopt the baby, if only she wouldn't terminate. It quickly turned into a mud-slinging, pro-life vs. pro-choice debate and was locked down by management.

I found myself in tears after reading all of the posts. So much so that DH had to comfort me. Maybe some of my outburst can be attributed to hormones but I am just so...confused. I always thought I was pro-choice, and in a way I still am. I don't believe the government should be able to dictate what a woman can and cannot do with her body. I think that is a slippery slope - first, our bodies, then what? However, after my experiences with miscarriage and IF, I am beginning to also feel pro-life. I understand terminating a baby that could not survive outside of the womb. Babies with severe defects that are incompatible with life. Or even selective reduction - multiple pregnancies that risk the lives of the babies as well as the mother. But people with Down Syndrome, in the vast majority of cases, are able to lead very productive, fulfilling lives. I just don't think I could personally abort a child that has a chance at life. Maybe in my past, but not at this point, knowing what I know now.

I am not judging here, as it is not my place to say whether she is right or wrong for her decision. Or others who are faced with the same predicament. I am merely trying to sort out my own internal conflict. My baby boy is almost 21 weeks himself. And I feel him kicking me right now as I type. I can't imagine making the decision to take that away. I freak out over every little thing I do, thinking I am going to hurt him or jeopardize his life. If I eat at a buffet, I am nearly in tears, worrying that something I ate may have sat out too long and harbored harmful bacteria that could cross the placenta. If I take a medication, I worry that it may affect his health. And here is someone who has a beautiful baby and is consciously ending her life. Granted, the baby does have a chromosomal disorder - Trisomy 21. But she is just 3 weeks away from viability. So close and yet so far.

I am beyond torn up. I just find myself holding my belly and crying. I don't even know why exactly. I feel so bad for that unborn baby. I feel bad for the family who is affected by this decision for the rest of their lives. I feel confused about where I even stand on the issue. I feel eternally thankful and grateful for my baby boy, who appears to be healthy when there are many children in the world who are not. I think about all of the adoptive families who are open to having a child with Down Syndrome or special needs, and will not be given the chance. I cry for all of these reasons. I'm not sure if any of them are more dominant than another but the combination has me a wreck.

I am praying for peace about this. I know that the outcome is out of my control and there is nothing in my power that I am able to do to change it. I have to let go and accept that decisions like this are made everyday. But I'm having a hard time with it.

I guess I'm just tired of loss. It surrounds me and there is no avoiding it. But how I wish that it weren't the case.

Perfect

*P-word talk and pictorials below*

The tech's exact description of our baby boy. As I hoped, he is happy and healthy. Heart rate is an impressive 155 and we were able to see all of his organs intact. No signs of any major malformations or defects. My cervix measured 4.1cm so maybe now I can stop fantasizing about incompetent cervix scenarios.

Today marks 19w6d and our little overachiever measured 20w2d. So, that would give me an adjusted due date of August 4. However, I'm keeping August 7 as my EDD since I know that is most accurate according to my O date. It does give me great comfort that our little man is already, for all intensive purposes, half-baked.

Our little guy was so cooperative that it only took 40 minutes total for the scan. Unlike the 3D we had just under a month ago, he wasn't shy about showing us his "masculinity". He still preferred to keep his hands near his face but we did get to see him wave to us. It was the most adorable thing I've ever seen. He never fails to tug my heartstrings.

And here are some pics I'd like to share:

Looking straight ahead - our "Skeletor" pic

Proving he belongs on Team Blue



Hiding his eyes - it's much too early for a photo shoot!



All of this chatter is giving me a headache!



A blurry profile pic



Our handsome boy



And for those of you who requested a belly photo - here we are. Halfway there. Unbelievable. Thank you for holding my hand through all of this insanity and for continuing this journey alongside me. I couldn't do it without you all.

Baking Sourdough and Other Thoughts

Dear Antibiotics,

I just wanted to say stank you smelly much for the lovely yeast infection that you've given me. It is just what I needed as I begin to recover from the other infection in my chest. I have to hand it to you because you are one hell of a multi-tasker. But if it isn't too much to ask, can you please focus on removing the mucus from my lungs rather than moving on to my innocent vajayjay?

Sincerely,

KC


I'd love to say I'm on the mend but I now have a new battle to contend with. I am itchy and red down there (but no strange odor) and have the infamous cottage cheese discharge. Except it's a little more lotion-like than chunky but you get my drift. It's not fun. Thankfully, Monistat 7 is one of the "safe" drugs on my OB list so I've been able to get a little relief while I finish out the rest of my antibiotics. But it is taking everything in me not to scratch myself while I'm hidden in my corner cubicle. No one would notice, right?

When it came time to insert the cream with the applicator, I suddenly felt like a virgin. It's been too long since I've had to push anything up there so it felt like new territory. I found myself questioning how far I should actually go, the angle I should tilt, etc. For a moment on the bathroom floor, I became 14 years old again. Taking the belly out of the equation, of course.

______________________________________________________

Extensive p-word talk below

Tomorrow is the Level II ultrasound and I am quite nervous. I just want to hear that everything is okay. That our little man is perfectly healthy, with all organs present and accounted for. With each day that I feel Sunshine, I become more and more attached. Not only to the baby himself but to the future and to all the hopes and dreams I have for transitioning from mother-to-be to mother. I have more to lose with every moment that passes and it terrifies me.

I have decided to boycott Dr. Google. My fears have now graduated from miscarriage to incompetent cervix, stillbirth, placental abruption and cord accidents. Morbid, I know. Why is it so hard to believe that I can be on the good side of statistics for once? I don't want to spend all my time worrying - which is what I've done for nearly half of this pregnancy - but my instinct is still self-preservation. I do deeply enjoy moments and milestones but I'm still waiting for someone to pinch me and tell me that the universe was just kidding. Seriously. I'm not that special. Am I? What makes me so lucky when so many of my comrades are still waiting or still suffering? Could this baby really be for someone else and there was a mistake? I have a hard time accepting the great things in my life but no problem accepting the bad. I'm used to being beaten down - not being told that I'm "fine" or "normal". So, I have to work on letting go of this hold IF has on me. I want to believe that this has a great chance of succeeding. Really believe it rather than trying to merely convince myself.

Once the baby is born, I'm sure the worry isn't going to fade. It will transition again from the topics above to SIDS, choking, getting hit by a car, etc. Motherhood seems to be a state of perpetual worry.

_____________________________________________________

Last night, my fears were eased for a moment when I felt the first BIG kick. On the lower right side of my uterus. No mistaking it. I was just laying on the sofa, propped up against a pillow on the computer. It didn't hurt but it took me by surprise because it was so strong. I've felt the taps and flutters. The feeling like when you get butterflies from driving fast down a steep hill - but lower in the tummy. This was totally different and I knew immediately what it was. It made me so proud. My little boy is growing stronger. He has a long way to go but he is showing me that he can make it.

I must have faith. I may not trust my body but I trust my baby. And everytime he kicks me, I know he is telling me it is going to be okay.

Where to Begin?

It's been hard to write lately after last week's heartwrenching news. What does one say after something so horrible? It seems that whatever I have to share is so menial or insignificant. I have no profound words to spiel. I'm simply...speechless.

To go on and on about my pregnancy just doesn't seem right and is hardly sensitive. However, I do want to let my readers know what is going on with me. It's just. so. hard. It's a catch-22 but I'm going to do my best to stick to the basics.

The main reason for my absence lately is I've been laid up for the past 5 days with an upper respiratory infection. It started out as just a nasty cold but quickly spread to my chest, complete with tasty phlegm and slight fever (99.8). I didn't think it was possible for a human being to have this much snot. I'm on 875mg Amoxicillan and Tylenol as needed. I despise taking meds but this time, I don't have much of a choice. My voice is barely hanging on and I think I sound like a frog, which must be confusing to Sunshine's newly developed auditory system. He is probably thinking "who is this nicotine-loving hag talking to me?". Either that or he thinks Night of the Living Dead is occuring just outside of my uterus. He wouldn't be completely wrong.

I've also noticed that his movement has lessened a good bit since I've been ill. I find myself pulling out the doppler everyday just to check on him. I'm lucky if I feel a flutter or a tap once a day. I know that at nearly 19 weeks, that is probably normal. His big growth spurt between 16 and 18 weeks is now over and he is most likely resting after doing so much work. Of course, I worry that he is feeling just as crappy as I do and that is why he is taking it easy. It is hard not to worry these days.

My level II ultrasound is coming up next Wednesday. I am excited, yet extremely anxious about this one. Excited to get another peek at my boy but anxious about all the things that could be wrong. My cervical length. The status of my fibroid. An arrythmia. A heart defect. Missing kidneys and/or bladder. We all know bloggers to whom these things (and more) were found during this scan and I would be a fool not to learn from it. I can't possibly walk in the radiologist's office with rose-colored glasses. But perhaps I can walk out with a sigh of relief.

I'd love to share a belly pic - as I'm pretty sure I've "popped" - but it just doesn't seem like good timing. Maybe I can celebrate reaching the halfway point next week with a collage so you can see how the belly grows. Until then, I hope I can just get healthy enough to breathe easily again.