Sunday, July 29, 2012

Puppies and skittles and unicorns and glitter.

Life feels like sunshine and kittens right now. 

Jimi is everything I could have ever dreamed up, but so much better than what my limited imagination could've come up with.  He asked me a few days ago to find him a few dad-to-be books, and when I placed the order tonight and told him they'll be here Wednesday, he exclaimed, "Daddy books?!  Yay!" with genuine glee in his voice.  He's pampering me in just the right ways, and forgiving with extra swiftness my crazy mood shifts.  He laughs at my cravings as he goes along with my every meal suggestion.  He tells me even more than usual how much he loves me, and how special I am in his heart.  I feel so fucking safe.  I feel so incredibly loved. 

Daily, a moment will flick a switch in my mind, and I'm instantly reminded of how amazingly fortunate I am to be right here, at this exact place in time, with this exact set of circumstances.  I don't know why I get to be the recipient of all of this, why I am wallowing in plenty when so many struggle just to have enough. 

My life is a dream I couldn't have dreamed better if I'd dreamed it myself.  If I'm sleeping, never wake me. 

I had another baby dream Friday night.  A fussy little boy wrapped up in yellow and bright blue, trying to suckle at my breast, being passed from my Mom to my Aunts and back around again.  I still didn't get a good look at his face, but I could tell he was way cute. 

Momma brought us our first baby gift today - a book to record milestones, from pregnancy through 5 years.  "You probably won't fill it out, but maybe you will," she said as she handed it to me.  (Neither Brother nor I has a baby book from our formative years - she started one for each of us, but didn't get far.)  I'm going to make an effort.  We'll see how far I get.

I did not mean to stay up this late.  Time for sleeps.  Sweet dreams!

Saturday, July 28, 2012

10.3 - What's a kumquat? (and other blah blah blah)

"Did you poop?"  "Yep!"  "Oh, good!"
These are the conversations pregnancy brings to our lives.  I've heard that modesty goes out the window, I just didn't realize it would begin so soon.

We're 10 weeks and 3 days along, and life is good.  I told some of my extended family on Tuesday, after Grandma's funeral.  My Aunt Cill passed my cell phone ultrasound photo around to anyone she could get to stand still - she was so in awe of our little gummy bear.  Jimi broke the news on Facebook Wednesday, and we were overwhelmed by all the love and well-wishes that poured in.  People love babies, I guess.  And us too, it would appear. 

I have some nausea in the mornings, usually right after I get out of the shower, and again in the evenings starting around 8 p.m.  It's not bad at all, though - more of a discomfort, maybe the way you feel an hour after a meal where you probably should've stopped before dessert but didn't.  I can't believe I'm so lucky - I figured I'd for sure be puking my guts out for the first three months.


I wrote that yesterday before work.  I don't feel like starting a new post, so I'm just adding on.

I got a raise yesterday.  The one I asked for 5 months ago.  I asked for 50%, then 25% - I got 12%.  I decided on my way home last night, and again this morning, that this means I need to spend the weekend readjusting my attitude toward my job.  I'm damn lucky to be where I am.  I have a job, that pays me a good wage, where I have a very promising future ahead of me.  I've more than doubled my salary in five years.  Holy fuckballs, I've fucking doubled my salary in five years, during which time the country has suffered one financial crisis after another and unemployment has almost hit 10%, and I, without a college education, have doubled my salary in five years.  Yeah.  I need to get my head in the right place and be glad to have what I've got and not take the work so damn personally.  

After breakfast today, we pulled up the carpet in the living room, pulled tacks out of the hardwood underneath, vacuumed a million times, washed it down with Murphy's Oil Soap - and now we have a hardwood floor in our living room.  YAY!  This is the first of many pre-baby projects we've got planned - all of which need to happen sooner rather than later.  I'm very much encouraged by our success today - i was terrified of this project being more than we'd planned for.  I was afraid I'd have an unusable living room for weeks and weeks.  It's not perfect, but it's perfectly livable, and now I'm really looking forward to tackling the carpet-pulling in other rooms, along with the painting that's scheduled to follow.  And the decorating, of course.  I'm shopping for a rug and a couch - watch out world when i start shopping for the nursery.  Oh, I just can't wait!  

I'm tired and I wish we had some ice cream.    


Saturday, July 21, 2012

In Loving Memory...

Sally Mae Edwards
May 31, 1912 - July 21, 2012

I want to tell you stories about this woman,
my Great-Grandmother. 
I'm going to hold off, though.
I'm going to wait until after I've gathered with my family,
and heard all the old stories again.
I'll come back when they're fresh,
when I've gotten some facts straight.

just know she was an amazing woman,
who brought a lot of love to this world.


Thursday, July 19, 2012

They say this happiness is just the beginning...

Oh my goodness.  That was breath-taking. 

There's a heartbeat!  and little legs and little arms and a funny-looking head and a heart that beats and beats and beats!  One hundred and sixty-seven times a minute, that little heart was beating!  Baby Trogdor (that's what we're calling him for now, Trogdor the Burninator - don't ask why because i don't know the answer, it's just what we've claimed for four years that we're naming our first born) is measuring exactly on target, at 9 weeks and 1 day, with a due date of February 20, 2013.  

I'm so overwhelmed.  I'm so full of love and happy that I feel like I'm going to explode.  I can't stop tearing up.  I'm so relieved.

I took the day off work, but Bossman changed the game plan last night and asked me to come in for 2 hours, because he and our Ops manager were going to be offsite - he gets nervous about leaving the place "unattended".  So I worked for two hours this morning, which was probably a blessing in disguise, because I was an absolute nervous wreck, and can't imagine the shape I would've worked myself into had I not had other things to focus on.  (I didn't sleep well at all last night, and was so nervous this morning that my stomach and chest were both hurting.)  Ten o'clock finally came, and off to the doctor I headed.  I had just enough time to get to the office and be maybe 10 minutes early for my appointment - so of course I drove past my exit.  And of course, because I was panicked about missing my exit, I chose to take the next one, which was another highway, which meant I had to drive an extra 2 miles before I came to the first exit where I could turn around - and of course that exit was one of the busiest in the city, so of course it took all of my wiggle-room time to get turned around and back on target.  But I got to the hospital, and I got into the parking garage, and the little old lady in front of me, of course, came to a complete stop at every turn in the garage.  And of course, she also took the last available spot in the entire garage.  So I made my own parking place, on the roof, in front of two other people who'd had the same desperate idea.  I was pissed off and fuming and frankly didn't give a flying fuck if they towed my car - I had to get into that office for my appointment!

I was right on time.  Well, if on time means walking into the lobby at the time my appointment was scheduled.  Close enough, right?

Jimi was already there, and we didn't have to wait long before they called us back.  Thank goodness, they did the ultrasound first - she explained, "I'm going to take some measurements and then I'll turn the screen so you can see, but first I'll tell you what you're waiting to know - there's only one baby in there and it has a strong heartbeat."  Whooosh! - There went all my pent up fears and worry and nervousness I've been harboring for the last 5 weeks.  Those few words took the scared away.  And then she turned the screen, and I saw my baby wiggle.  She hit a button, and suddenly the room was filled with the sound of my baby's heartbeat, and then came the tears.  I gasped - I'd been imagining this moment for weeks, when I'd let my mind go down that path - but it was really happening.  I'm growing a whole another person, and he has a heartbeat! 

The rest of the almost-3-hour visit is a blur of questions and congratulations and tests and blood draws.  My doctor has prescribed progesterone suppositories and a daily baby aspirin for the next four weeks to further reduce any risk of miscarriage.  I would've submitted to anything, I already had all the information I came to get.  I was walking on air, and they could've forgotten me in the lobby between call-backs and I wouldn't have cared because I'm growing a baby and he has a heartbeat. 

They gave us three ultrasound photos to take home - I texted one to family and a few friends and my phone proceeded to blow up.  My Daddy - I think maybe he's more excited than Jimi and I are.  When Momma learned she was pregnant with Brother, I remember listening to Daddy call everyone in our phone book to share the news.  He did a repeat of that today, I think.  He loves babies, and he's so excited for his first grandbaby to finally be on the way. 

I guess I can start to think of this all as being really real, huh?  I guess now I can start to get excited? 

This is one of the happiest days of my life.  It feels surreal.  I'm so fucking happy, I could just pee. 

Wanna see a picture?  Baby Trogdor's first close-up:

Ain't that just the cutest little baby-to-be you ever did see?
Gosh, my heart is just so full. 

9.1 - Grape

Today's the day.  Give me 5 hours, and I'll have a much better idea of how the next 8 months are going to play out. 

I'm scared.  I'm nervous.  I'm excited.  I'm eager with anticipation.  I'm scared. 

Send some good vibes our way today, could you?  What will be will be, and already is, but I could still use the extra support. 

Thursday, July 12, 2012

My First Baby Dream

I had my baby last night, in my dreams.

A little boy. 

I don't know what we named him, or what he looked like - all I saw was his little penis.

They circumsized him, against my wishes and without my permission, and the entire dream was me yelling at the doctors for mutilating my child. 

That's all.  I just wanted to record it for posterity. 

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

8, or There's a Kidney Bean in my Belly

Whoa.  This shit is starting to get real. 

8 weeks.  Baby is the size of a kidney bean and is developing hands, feet, eyelids, a brain, breathing passages - holy crap there's a baby in my belly!  I was reading ahead last night (which they tell you not to do, but it was only like 12 hours ahead, so I'm sure it's okay) and it started to come over me - this is really happening.  There's a floating person-to-be inside me that's growing at a ridiculous pace and will be ready to come out and meet us all in just a few more months.  Wow.  I've been so focused on not getting too emotionally attached, not getting my hopes up...this is wild.

Guys?  I'm gonna be a Momma! 

Of course, I have to follow that with a disclaimer - I haven't seen a doctor yet.  I don't know that everything is fine and dandy.  I'm assuming.  I'm speaking from a place of hope.  Fingers crossed I won't have to print any retractions, you feel me?

Eight weeks.  Two months down, seven and a half (ish) to go. 

Of course, the 8 week update on Baby Center has to bring up screenings and testings - all the different ways medical science can scare the shit out of you about what could possibly go wrong and result in you not having a healthy happy baby in your arms at the end of the journey.  My knee-jerk reaction is to ignore it all, skip it all, and just let nature take its course and see how things end up.  Surely everything will be fine, right?  I asked Jimi how he feels - he's pretty terrified of the idea of having a baby that isn't "perfect".  Having a Down Syndrome baby is something he worries about and doesn't want to have to face.  He views screenings and tests as a way to arm ourselves with all the necessary information so we can be prepared if something is wrong.  I worry about the stress that would be caused from false/real positives.  I am afraid of learning something is wrong and having to discuss things like "quality of life" or "viability".  I don't want to do anything that could lead to a doctor advising me to terminate my pregnancy.  I don't want to experience any of that as my reality. 

If you've got any advice, this is me, as a first-time-almost-Momma, asking for advice from women who've walked this road before. 

Sunday, July 8, 2012

A sign.

I spent the day in Evansville, IN with my Momma and my Aunt Pam at a cousin's wedding.  Mom's told Pam the news, and we talked a lot of baby talk.  Pam said she feels good about this one and she'll say lots of prayers for us.  Good.  We'll take them all.

When I decided I was ready to head home, my front tire was flat. 

I wanted to cry. 

I was tired and hungry and hot and I just wanted to go home. 

But.  I had a can of Fix-A-Flat in my trunk, and that inflated the tire enough for me to get down the road to a Pep Boys, which was still open at 6:30 on a Saturday night and had a tire to sell me for just under $100. It was just under an hour from the time I discovered the flat until we were pulling out of the Pep Boys parking lot. 

Mom stayed with me the whole time.  She kept me from losing my shit.  I love my Momma so much. 

It felt lucky, that flat tire.  At least in retrospect.  It didn't blow in the middle of Nowhere, Indiana, on a desolate stretch of I-64, when Momma and I would've had to sit in the sweltering heat on the side of the road probably for over an hour waiting for AAA to show up.  It didn't blow on my way home, when I was alone in the dark on that same empty stretch of highway.  Instead, it was flat, outside the church.  And I had Fix-A-Flat.  And Pep Boys was open.  And I had enough money in the bank to pay for a new tire without blinking.  (All that beer and cigarette money I've saved over the last few weeks, perhaps?)  A lucky girl, I am.

I decided to go back to the reception for a while longer, danced (poorly) with my cousins and my aunt, then hit the road for home around 10 o'clock. 

I spent most of the drive in silence, watching the white lines lead the way.  I thought about the latest Momastery article I'd read while waiting for my tire to be replaced.  I thought about how scared I am for our first appointment in less than 2 weeks.  I imagined what it could be like - lying in a dark room and hearing that sound I dream of, the sound of a heartbeat that Jimi and I made together.  I thought about Jimi, and his concern that his age could negatively impact our ability to have a healthy "normal" child.  How would we react if something was wrong?  What if our baby has an extra chromosome? 

I think we're going to be okay.  I started to let myself think that maybe we're going to be just fine. 

And then a car drove by, an SUV, with a vanity plate that read  OK PUSH. 

I'm taking it as a sign.  A doctor's gonna say that to me next February, and everything's going to be just fine. 

Every little thing, gonna be alright.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

7, or Blueberries anyone?

7 weeks yesterday.  *Happy Dance*

A few days back, we went to Babies R Us, just to look.  I melted over the teeny tiny cloth diapers.  There are a million bedding patterns with elephants and monkeys.  Everything is expensive.  Everything is precious and adorable and I want to fill my house with all of it.  Oh, please let me get the opportunity to buy and use all of those tiny pastel things. 

Monday, July 2, 2012

Just another record of my crazy.

**Disclaimer:  This shit is TOP SECRET, yo.  Well, as Top Secret as it can be when it's posted on the internet.  I can't not blog about this life-changer, but if you know me in real life, please don't share the news - I can't bear to have to make those phone calls or announcements again if things don't end well.

I started this post yesterday morning, then got side-tracked by shiny things and didn't finish it.  But what I was trying to say, it's sort of a big part of where my head is right now, so even if it's a day late, here ya go:

I should be doing laundry, but we've got all day for that, right?  It's Sunday, there's plenty of time for chores later.

We're in the middle of a record-setting heat-wave here in Kentucky.  We've passed hot and reached "Just don't go outside" temperatures.  I took Finn for a walk in the park this morning at 8, early enough to beat the heat, I thought, but I still found myself sweaty and tired by the time we reached our half-way mark.  Of course, I'm extra sweaty these days anyhow, and I'm always tired it seems, so maybe that had more to do with me than the weather.  Either way, I think now I'm in for the day.  I'm not a fan of hot.

I don't want to talk to anyone or see anyone or do anything.  I want to sit in my house and be safe until I know that everything's going to be okay, and then maybe I'll come out to play.  I sat in the living room Tuesday night and talked baby talk all night long...and the next morning, our friend went for a checkup and they couldn't find her baby's heartbeat.  I'm so fucking sad for her, for them.  And not that it has anything to do with me, cause I know it doesn't, but I can't help but go right back to that place where she is now, and it reminds me of how fragile and unguaranteed this whole deal is.  I've made it further than last time, but she was even further than me, and look.  See?  Anything can happen.  You just never know.  And every time I say the words out loud, or talk about the future, I'm that much more emotionally invested, and I'm just so scared to be too emotionally invested right now.

I want to say that this feels different, that it feels right.  I imagine, though, that every expectant mother feels that way.  I don't think anyone says, "Oh, this one probably isn't going to work out.  It just feels like it's probably going to end."  I think every miscarriage is a surprise of the worst sort, so I can't even follow my instinctual feeling of "every little thing, gonna be alright". 


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