The good, the bad, and the snurfly...

The good: We got the house. We are moving into a gorgeous 3600 square foot house with spanish tile, marble kitchen, hardwood floors, and it's own Koi pond, in the family room. It is the lap of luxury, of the kind one can only afford when rich, or when renting with a friend, like Devon. Devon has a 800 square foot master bedroom suite, and Lee and I have a two room suite with it's own laundry room/kitchenette and marble bathroom. Marlena has a room with it's own bathroom, with tub and shower, it's own walk in closet, and many windows. She loves it! It pleases her to no end that she gets her own bathroom.
There are 4.5 bathrooms and two kitchens. The main kitchen is huge and amazing, with ample storage, a giant marble island, and marble countertops. There is another small kitchen with small island in the Koi room, which will be perfect for entertaining. There are three seperate AC systems in the house. It is amazing and comes with a three car garage, that I would enjoy living in if I had to, as it is finished with electricity, high ceilings, lots of windows, and paint. We move in July 1, and then the enjoying begins.

The bad: I have mastitis again. It came on last night with a high fever and left me miserable in bed all day. I had little warning this time too, so I am going to have to see what I am doing wrong. Sigh. Breast infections are simply no fun.

The snurfly: Oliver has been an awake baby today and tonight, snurfling and blinking owlishly at me from the center of our bed. Go to sleep baby!! Blink blink Sleep is good baby! snurfle Mommy needs sleep! Blink blink

Agoo or poo...

(Apple hat courtesy of Ariel Benjamin, Thanks Ariel!! It's so cute on him!)

Agoo or Poo?

Yes, the language and facial displays of babies can be decieving. Otter has been working very hard to express himself lately, both verbally, and physically. When he tried to talk, he will often scrunch up his face, turn red, and say "agoo". When he poops he will often scrunch up his face and turn red as well, leaving the family to guess at his intentions... Agoo or Poo?

Mom goes home tomorrow, and we will miss her dearly. Oh how I want to move back home, into my parents house too. I keep asking Lee how he would feel about rooming with the 'rents for a while, but he is less than enthusiastic about the idea. "We need more space" he says. Space shmace, I want my mom and dad!

It has been wonderful having her here, she has helped me organize the house, catch up on laundry, and shower on a regular basis. It is truly a gift to have had her with me. I can't be too sad about her going though, her dogs need her, my dad needs her, and I get to have my dad out here in another week. I am spoiled!!

As for other news, I developed a breast infection day before yesterday. I have never had a higher fever in my life, I was up in the 105 range, with chills that would not die and delirium to match. Luckily I got to the doctor right away and the antibiotics are helping the fever go away. I still have a teeny one, but I am no longer freezing and shaking. Ugh. Oddly I learned that cabbage leaves tucked between your breast and bra will help draw out the milk from the plugged duct. Who knew? Cabbage, it's not just for salad anymore.

Mommy knows best...

and when she tells you to relax while she picks up your house, you would be an idiot not to let her!!

We have had a nice time this weekend. Luke, Otter and I had dinner on Sunday night, and my mom and I have hung out, chatted, and gone shopping. She has spent some time organizing and cleaning my house, which is the most wonderful gift. Best of all, she has spent time spoiling Monkey, who needs a little spoiling. She is a much happier child now that Nama is here. After all, I get to spend more time with her too, since there is another set of snuglly arms here to tend the little tyrant.

Today we dropped Luke off at the train station and picked up Shane. He and mom are out having a beer or ten, as he has to return to school tomorrow, but it has been nice to introduce him to his nephew. We spent the afternoon hanging out and chatting, and then he read Monkey a story and off he and mom went!

I am recovering well, though I was too active today. It is hard for me to remember it was only 2 weeks ago when I had an 11 pound baby, and therefore I should take it easy. I feel like cleaning house and walking all over, but I am still at the stage where I pay for too much activity with cramps and increased bleeding. It is a pretty solid reminder to put your feet up, but unfortunately one that reminds you only after you have done too much.

Tomorrow we will get some news on the Vonage front, the next decision in the court case is due in, so Lee and I are little on edge tonight. I wish he didn't have this added stress currently, so he could have some more 'honeymoon' time with his son. They do get a good deal of snuggle time though, Otter is curled up with him as I type!

Otter had his first bath this week, oh boy did he hate that! He spent the whole time scolding me for torturing him!

We are planning a mellow day tomorrow, with Otter and I most resting to make up for too much running around today. Here are some more "life at home" pictures:

Have Nama will Nap:


Mommy and Otter get ready for bed:


The first bath was NOT appreciated:

Nothing has changed...

Since last night, so we are still waiting to see. The nurse on staff with Mom told us that she is being heavily flooded with antibiotics to try and kill the pneumonia, and that we will know in the next 48 hours if she is likely to recover or not. If she is not, Lee will likely go home to see her for a couple of days and I will say here with my legs crossed chanting "not today baby, not today."

Oh I have so many feelings about this. He and I have worked so hard over the last nine months towards this delivery, and him not being there was never really in our plans, but I simply can't get over the feeling that he has to go home and see her if she is not going to recover. If she is, then there is time and he can go see her after the baby is born. Hell, if she is going to recover, we can all go, bring Otter with us, and she can meet him.

The bad news is that it appears she is aspirating on food and drink, so the doctors said she may need a feeding tube placed in her stomach for the rest of her life. Apparently when the system that seperates the food and drink from the lungs breaks down there is no recovery, and therefore being fed via tube is the only remaining option. Niether Lee, her sister, nor I feel she will go for that, so even if she recovers, it may be simply to say goodbye. However, she will be able to make that decision for herself, as it is one that will arise if she recovers, so at least we don't have to risk forcing that on her.

I will keep you posted as we know. Thank you all for your support.

So ready to pop!

Nine months is one month too many!!

Okay, I understand that creating human life is a beautiful and sacred thing, I get that it takes a long time to grow a human from an egg and a sperm. I get that the awesome power of birth is central to the most contentious political arguments in our culture.

However, I also can't get off my couch anymore, or walk through the grocery store without availing myself of their bathroom. I can't do anything without getting heartburn and my hips are letting me know what life at 110 is going to feel like. I understand that I should feel lucky to be a woman, and not an elephant, but really, nine months is one month too long!!

I am ready for pants that have zippers, the occasional beer, and a frickin pile of sushi! I am ready for lying flat on my back or stomach!

Why does our culture breed an expectation for an attitude of peaceful joy during pregnancy? I don't feel calm, I feel impatient! I want to hold my baby, and get him out of me!! Most women I speak with sympathize with this sense of the final month taking for-frickin-ever, but we still have this image of the lovely pregnant woman peacefully eating her way through an entire chocolate cake and loving every crumbly minute. Where are the complaints? I don't have gooey chocolate love, I have uncomfortable heartburny indulgence!! There is a foot permanently lodged in my stomach making chocolatey goodness my enemy!

Not to mention that I can no longer reach half my dishes, or half the stuff on grocery store shelves. Emptying a grocery cart is an acrobatic feat beyond my normal level of physical ability, and I can't walk through any opening smaller than a banquet hall! I bump my 'bump' against everything that comes near it, and then moan because it's extra sensitive to the touch!

Ugh. I feel like a huge mammoth beast, waddling towards my own self destruction. I don't feel like a glowing serene woman on the verge of a miracle. I feel like a harried, tired, beached mammal trying desperately to feed and care for her current calf while preparing for the existence of another.

Moo.

Letters from the sick ward...

Last week Monkey had stomach flu, this week it was me. I do not advise having the stomach flu while eight months pregnant, I actually thought I had put myself in labor from the force of my vomiting. It was horrible. Happily it was over fairly quickly, only about 10 hours. Of course, it has taken me nearly two days to get back to eating normally, and I still feel very shaky.

Of course, before I could celebrate school starting again for Monkey, she came down with a high fever. She will be home for the rest of the week. It will be two weeks without school, two weeks of illness, two weeks of yuch.

Thankfully I decided not to take the bar exam. Between my doctor recommending I don't and Monkey and I being home sick for two weeks the decision is well supported. So there is no Bar Exam in my immediate future, just the one in July.

I hope you are all feeling better than we are.

100 and counting...

100th post!!

Today is my 100th post on this blog! I wish I had something very interesting and important to say for this momentous occasion, but I don't!! I do however have pictures of the frozen foliage in my front yard, news about the health of my little girl, and pregnancy jabber.

Monkey has recovered nicely from her role in "The Exorcist: Satan takes New Jersey!" and slept through the night, waking this morning with a voracious appetite and good spirits. My spirits have improved as well, since I was not up all night alternately holding her hair back and washing vomit covered bed-clothes. Yay!! No more vomit! (Thus far, Lee is not feeling very well, so we shall see if the saga continues.)

Today I am studying for the bar, Monkey is playing around the house, and we are enjoying the rising temperatures and melting ice. Things are beginning to move in the wind again, instead of just cracking in half and falling into the back yard.

Here are some pictures of the perfectly iced over tree and bush in the front of our house, these were taken this morning, so there has been some melting, but they still show how eerily the ice covered everything. It looked like a set for some mythical movie, every single thing had a fine coating of ice on it. All the fences, trees, bushes, flower stems, etc. Even the house has a shiny thin coating of ice on it. And the snow on the ground was so hard and frozen no footprints were left in it when you passed by.











The pictures don't show the detail very well, as my camera is limited to the abilities of a point and shoot, but the tops and sides of each branch and leaf is coated in a thin sheen of ice. It still feels like a winter wonderland, as long as you don't have to go anywhere.

However, the neighborhood and surrounding town is recovering, the downed power line outside our house was taken care of yesterday evening and the plows have been through so it is easier to get around the town. We may even venture out today! I think we are both a little stir crazy, having been stuck in the house for a few days in a row with no school or guests. Of course, nothing beat the day with no power for sheer stir craziness, but I have to say I am grateful that did not coincide with the 24 hours in which she forcefully expelled everything in her stomach. I am so glad that is over!

Otter has moved into position in this 33rd week of pregnancy and has begun to move around low in my womb. He moves around a lot still, and now has the size and strength to move my stomach with him. Last night he was rythmically kicking me while Lee and I were watching my tummy jump in time to the baby. His nickname is Leviathan Baby, as he rolls my stomach from side to side and causes parts of it to stick out oddly.

I suffer from this odd belief that I am going to give birth early, even though I logically know that chances of it are slim to none, and that he will likely be born closer to the 15th of April than his due date, the 1st. However, I am taking the bar exam at the end of this month, and am positive this is the cause of my concern. The thought of going into labor while taking the bar with complete strangers an hour's drive from my husband and house is horrible. I remind myself that the worst case scenario has Lee and Ellen driving to a hospital in Somorset, but I still worry. It is par for the course for bar exam takers, we all become obsessive about one thing or another while we prepare for licensure. (Okay, more obsessive.)

I will post more updated baby belly photos sometime this week. I have gotten a lot bigger and now have an outie instead of an innie. (Or as Lee so poetically puts it "Look honey! You've popped!)

Well, it is back to studying for the bar exam for me. Thanks for spending your valuable time reading the various things I have said here, I appreciate the connection. It is hard not to feel homesick, but connecting with everyone from time to time in the comments section really helps. Blessed be to all of you!

P.S. This is an awesome shirt! I have to have it!

The game's a foot!!

Yesterday we felt a foot! Or was it is hand?

It was definitely an appendage of one form or the other, and Lee and I each got to feel it rest right under our hands. I almost felt it in my hand at first! It had edges and definition. He becomes more and more of a little person each day.

Monkey sings Otter a lullaby at night after I sing her one, and he kicks mightily away as she sings into my tummy. He is really going to know who is sister is when he comes into this world. She is so excited that she has really spent a lot of time talking and singing to him.

I am still nesting, the instinct growing stronger and changing form as we get closer to Delivery-Day. This week it is a scrapbook of artistic images of me and my belly to commemorate this pregnancy. I wanted something to remind me of what it looks like for me to be pregnant. It is a pretty neat project so far. I am having fun with my Photoshop elements program and my pictures. Most of them I will not post on the Internet, as they involve no clothing, and once you put naked pictures out there, out there they stay. However, this one is I feel is harmless enough.



I am trying to capture the sense of quiet peace that fills me from time to time. So much of pregnancy is hard, and so many of our culturally supported memories are the hard ones. Nausea, sleeplessness, cramping, feeling fat, etc. I wanted to create memories for myself that reminded me of peace, and beauty, the internal sense of fulfillment one gets when you're growing a baby. That way, even though I more often look sleepy, or a little rumpled, or tired and grumpy, I will remember feeling beautiful and calm, and ready for baby.

It has been an interesting project. When Monkey was in my belly I had a cast done of my torso, but I have not gotten it from the artist, and recently found out he had passed, so it is unlikely that I will have that memory, in any form other than a memory.

Of course my mom took a ton of pictures of me while I was carrying with her, so it's not as though I have no memories of that time, they just aren't full on belly nudes.

I am also making curtains and designing a little book and doing all the other stuff that lends itself to a sense of readiness for baby. We have our first meeting with Ellen, who is our Doula for the grand day, this weekend, and our having our tour and birthing class the following weekend.

I am still anxious about delivery, and a little sad that this is my final time doing this. It is such a complicated thing, pregnancy, I can't imagine signing up for a life of it, but I am sad to see this part of my life slip into the past. Sometimes I wish life's experiences were less ambivalent.

John Hurt

I am in a John Hurt way at the moment...

He is trying to break out of my stomach in a bloody screaming horror movie mess!!!

Okay, not really, but that is how it feels sometimes. The problem is this, I have really sore Round Ligaments and have had them since early month 4. The spot is so sore that I actually hit my doctor when she poked at it.(Really though, why poke at the exact place someone tells you is hurting?)

Otter, in his fiendish babyiness, has decided to roost flush up against the round ligaments on my right side. He has been pressing his darling little back up against them for a week now.

This lovely snuggling results in me feeling a rolling pain in my side every few minutes. It keeps me up at night, it keeps me up during the day! I can't get comfortable! I tried pushing against him to get him to move, but doing so hurts too much.

Argh!!

And of course, there is nothing you can do for it. Well... except take tylenol, which is the same as doing nothing, but with a nasty after taste. Ow! There is goes again! What makes it worse is, when he wiggles and kicks around, he presses further into my side. OOW!!

This kind of pain is bad because I recognize on some level that it is not even on the scale of labor pain, so how can I plan a natural childbirth if I can't just breathe and soothe this lovely pain away? If I can't soothe away pain that hasn't even hit the scale yet, how in the world am I going to soothe away pain that does hit the scale???

A random note about pain scales. I am a horrible patient to deal with becuase I have suffered from Migraines for about 19 years. Therefore, I do not have the ability to answer the question, How badly does it hurt on a scale from 1 to 10? You see, I start examining the pain and I think, well, I could go to work like this, or school, I could drive a car, I could go to a place with many people, and it wouldn't hurt more than it does now. So it must not be high up on the scale. Granted my comparison pain is migraine pain. A 10 on a migraine scale renders me drugged on percoset in a dark silent room lying down for three days. So really, should the scale be higher than 10? Should there be a different scale for me to work with?

Back to the John Hurt experience. On a scale of I don't notice it to Oh MY God I need a doctor!!, the pain is around a, occasionally takes my breath away.

I am getting tired of it though, and I start to wonder if there is something going on. Am I in early labor? Are these pains braxton-hicks contractions? (BTW, despite medical science's reassurances to the contrary, they are not freakin painless.) Should I be calling my care provider? I get them all day long, but I am still pretty sure they are the baby in collusion with my body, tormenting me.

Sigh. Please send me some energy and any hugs you have to send, I could certainly use them.

I don't want to do this anymore...

I changed my mind!!

32 weeks pregnant and 8 left to go (or 10 if you count from conception.)

How can 8 weeks seem like so long when 32 weeks have already passed? Is it because I can't get out of my couch without assistance or much grunting? Could it be that I am anticipating returning to life without frequent bathroom trips, a life where I can once again sleep on my stomach or back? (When I sleep at all!)

These last 8 weeks seem like forever! The time between now and April 1st is an eternity! Argh!

However, there are reasons that make me happy about the time left in this pregnancy. Lee and I have started preparing for childbirth, and I am scared!

I know I have strong ideas about experiencing birth naturally, entering laborland, letting my instinctual self take over and having this baby without the assistance of drugs. I really want to do this, it bothers me on some level that I have a child already, and couldn't honestly tell you what it feels like to give birth. However, I discovered a truth the other day, while I would like to have this natural birth experience, I would much rather have no birth experience at all!

I don't mean a birth experience with drugs that reduce or eliminate pain, I mean, none at all. Which is why I turned to my husband last night and said "I change my mind." He responded that it was too late for that. Grumble.

See the problem is that the closer I get to D-Day, the more I remember what it felt like to get the feeling back after Monkey was born. Ha ha ha. I remember the huge overdose of epidural medication finally wearing off, and then feeling as though a truck had driven through my vagina. Ouch! Walking hurt, sitting was completely out of the question. The only thing I liked was the numbing spray they gave me for my stitches. (Yes, stitches, there are NEVER supposed to be stitches in your vagina. If you are male, sympathize with me by imagining them in your penis. Groans and winces are appreciated here.)

I remember pain memory, even though I was not a part of the physical event that caused the pain. I think I am more afraid of this birth experience, simply because I have no physical recollection of that last one. They screwed up so much stuff with my first birth. They induced me when I likely didn't need it, and drugged me with narcotics to help me sleep. This sent me into labor, but I was too drugged to wake up except during contractions, so after god knows how long, I gasped out "epidural" and finally woke to no pain. Until it wore off. Then they gave me so much, I couldn't move at all. I had to cough Monkey out, because that was the only way I could get my muscles to push! After she was born, I couldn't walk for eight hours.

By the time the feeling came back, I was completely unprepared for it. How could I be? All I had was the memory of watching myself give birth, which in itself was very cool, but I couldn't even imagine what it felt like. So when my nerves awoke, and began to complain, it was bad.

I am hoping this time I will understand what birth did to my body, and will be more prepared to give it the time and understanding it needs to heal. I hope I will not be left wondering forever what birth feels like. At the same time, I really don't want to go through it again! I am finally, at 32 weeks, afraid of it.

Happily, Lee has really come through this time. He turned to me and told me he would be shocked if I hadn't been afraid. He told me he was afraid, and it wasn't even his body that would be going through it. I felt better knowing he didn't expect me to be excited about this, and have no fear. I suppose there are very few experiences in life that are this intense, fear should be one of the feelings we have during it.

Still, anyone want to volunteer to do it for me?? Anyone??

Blood tells all...

Okay, so in this case, blood tells nothing. Monkey's bloodwork has come back just fine!! Nothing scary, that can be discovered in a blood scan, is going on with my baby. Of course, she is still tired and has an occasional fever, but for now my mommy alarm is satisfied enough to give her another relaxed week at home with plenty of healthy food and sleep to see if the problem corrects itself.

If not, we will be back in the doc's office, smiling inanely and saying, something is still not right, fix it please.

I am relieved.

Blessed be to all of you, enjoy your remaining holiday moments.

M

A week between posts, an ear infection, and scary fatigue...

Well it's been a week between posts because I have been struck down with an ear infection and have been attempting to listen to and empower my inner voice.

Monkey has been tired for over two weeks. Not just tired, but sleeping after school when left to her own devices, going to bed early at night, and then looking as though she hasn't slept in a week. She is manic when she is awake, and starts getting dark circles under her eyes and yawning before 3:00. She has complained to her teacher about tummy aches and generally not feeling well for days on end. She has become a regular at the nurse's office, but is always sent back to class, because no one can find anything wrong with her.

I have been trying to let her rest, have been making sure she eats well, and have been experiencing a growing sense of disquiet for the past two weeks. Yesterday I finally reached the point when I couldn't chalk it up to stress or lack of sleep. I finally took her to the doctor. He was nice, he listened. He didn't put on the patient face most doctor's get when a mom walks into their office and says "something isn't right with my child." He heard me, and examined her, and told me to treat her with cold medicine and come back after Christmas if she wasn't better for blood work. It sounded very sensible and logical. It made perfect sense in the light of day. But last night, when I checked on her, and saw her pale little face, dark circles present even in sleep, it was the dumbest plan in the world.

I called again today. I walked into his office and begged him not to make me wait until Christmas was over to test her blood. I told him I was willing to be the mom who over-reacted, the mom who was wrong, as long as I wasn't the mom who spent every night for the next week wondering if something was really, really wrong. The mom who spent Christmas trying to quiet the voice that trots out all the scary reasons for her fatigue, instead of the likely ones.

Let's face it, when the voice in your head starts sounding alarm bells, it's not because she might be anemic or have mono, it's because a tiny little voice reminds you that fatigue can be an indication of cancer, lukemia, and other life ending dieseases that you do not want to spend the holiday season rationalizing away.

I spent last night crying because something was wrong with my baby. Something was out of place. Something wasn't right. She was not okay. I have no idea what it is. It could be as simple as the flu, but it wasn't the flu that had me peeking in on her over and over again. It was fear.

Luckily, the doctor treated me for it. He took her blood today, and promised me to check her for everything scary. I was so grateful, I almost cried.

Solutions...

I love Cream of Wheat!!

I decided, after my not so helpful doctor's appointment, to proceed with my life as though I were anemic and ill. I started going to bed earlier, and happily discovered that Cream of Wheat has 50% of your required iron per serving. I ate it for breakfast and dinner day before yesterday and breakfast yesterday. I actually have color in my cheeks again! I have energy again! I went to the grocery store yesterday and shopped, I cooked dinner, I actually participate in my life for the first time in a week!

I am so relieved. I was beginning to look forward into the next three months with a growing despair and horror. I couldn't stand the thought of being too tired to handle the basic responsibilities in my life. Thanks to the aforementioned cereal, I am happily engaged in work and home life again.

It is still very odd being out here instead of in Denver. The weather is cold in a clingy, biting way that I have never really felt before. It's almost as though the cold is suffering from an attachment disorder that forces it to try and climb inside you and be absorbed. It's impossible to get rid of, and it seeps in through all the windows and doorways. It comes with a lovely morning frost that is slowly killing off my roses, and paints pretty images on my lawn. It is the worst by Monkey's school because it is in a swamp. I send her to school each day in a long wool coat with a sweater and hat and mittens. I make her promise to wear her little mittens so her baby hands aren't bitten by frostbite when she plays at recess. She acquiesces with a shiver and doesn't even try and argue.

The holidays are pretty out here. I see lots of huge inflatable christmas characters and lights all over the place. There is still a lot of green. All in all, I miss home. I miss Roby and Heather's magical christmas display, and my parents little tree, and indifferent cold.

We are supposed to brave the city this weekend to go see "the tree". I will let you know if we made it or not.

Happy december!!