This past Advent season I had the honor of praying for Renee over at Second Chances. I loved getting to know her by reading through her informative and picture-filled blog. Renee has faced many challenges, but she is also incredibly strong of faith and spirit. She is such an inspiration!
My heartfelt thanks go out to A Complicated Life for her prayers. They were invaluable to me! One of the intentions I asked my Prayer Buddy to pray for was that Nemo will find employment after he gets his PhD in May. A few weeks ago he landed an interview at a University in a city where we have friends (bonus) AND just today he found another excellent opportunity that fits him perfectly--I'm hoping we get an interview out of that one too!
Have a blessed and happy rest of the Christmas season, Prayer Buddies. My prayers are with you both.
Now on to 2011!
During the bleeding scare on Monday I was ready to call our New Year's Eve party off, but now we are going ahead as planned. Nemo has been a HUGE help getting ready. Even though he is already the designated chef for the event he has also cleaned, vacuumed, moved furniture, de-cluttered, etc etc. The house is almost unrecognizable!
Despite all of his hard work the chore list is still about a mile long. I am floating away in dirty laundry, and I shudder to think how long it's been since I washed the kitchen floor. It's going to be a busy couple of days, but I honestly prefer them that way.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
*Updated, Everything OK* Scared Again
*Update*
The nurse got back to me and thought it would be a good idea for me to come in and get checked out, so they squeezed me in this afternoon. I broke down and im'ed Nemo from work to tell him I had the appointment, and he met me there. I was just so scared and needed the moral support. I think he was a little peeved that I lied to him this morning when he asked if everything was ok and I said yes. So I won't be doing that again.
The midwife did an internal exam, and the results were that my cervix was closed and there was no evidence of bleeding. So where the blood I saw came from remains a mystery, which bothers me, but I am still eternally thankful that things appear to be ok for the moment. I did get a nice big shot of Rho.gam right in the tush -ouch!- just in case.
They checked the baby's heartbeat and it was nice and strong--and very easy to find compared to the other times, which I guess means that baby is getting bigger.
I don't know what the future will bring, but this episode has reminded me to appreciate every day, every minute I have with my loved ones.
****
I had been doing ok on the anxiety front--entering my second trimester takes most of the credit for that.
But all last week I was having these weird stomach pains. They didn't feel like cramps, exactly, so I chalked them up to either growing pains or the stress of traveling.
This morning the pain was better, but I then started to get small flecks of blood when I went to the bathroom. I think its vaginal, but I can't be sure. I didn't tell Nemo because I didn't want to worry him. Now here I am at work, out of my mind with worry.
I called the midwife's office but they still haven't gotten back to me. I am desperate to go in to see if there is still a heartbeat.
I'm fourteen and a half weeks. We JUST told our families. We were planning on telling our friends this weekend. This isn't supposed to be happening. I don't know what to do, and if you can spare them I could really use some prayers to help me get through whatever comes next.
The nurse got back to me and thought it would be a good idea for me to come in and get checked out, so they squeezed me in this afternoon. I broke down and im'ed Nemo from work to tell him I had the appointment, and he met me there. I was just so scared and needed the moral support. I think he was a little peeved that I lied to him this morning when he asked if everything was ok and I said yes. So I won't be doing that again.
The midwife did an internal exam, and the results were that my cervix was closed and there was no evidence of bleeding. So where the blood I saw came from remains a mystery, which bothers me, but I am still eternally thankful that things appear to be ok for the moment. I did get a nice big shot of Rho.gam right in the tush -ouch!- just in case.
They checked the baby's heartbeat and it was nice and strong--and very easy to find compared to the other times, which I guess means that baby is getting bigger.
I don't know what the future will bring, but this episode has reminded me to appreciate every day, every minute I have with my loved ones.
****
I had been doing ok on the anxiety front--entering my second trimester takes most of the credit for that.
But all last week I was having these weird stomach pains. They didn't feel like cramps, exactly, so I chalked them up to either growing pains or the stress of traveling.
This morning the pain was better, but I then started to get small flecks of blood when I went to the bathroom. I think its vaginal, but I can't be sure. I didn't tell Nemo because I didn't want to worry him. Now here I am at work, out of my mind with worry.
I called the midwife's office but they still haven't gotten back to me. I am desperate to go in to see if there is still a heartbeat.
I'm fourteen and a half weeks. We JUST told our families. We were planning on telling our friends this weekend. This isn't supposed to be happening. I don't know what to do, and if you can spare them I could really use some prayers to help me get through whatever comes next.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Telling People
Very shortly we will be leaving to visit Nemo's parents, not just to exchange Christmas presents but also to tell them about the baby.
I had an appointment with the midwife on Thursday, and everything seems to be going great. Heard a good heartbeat at 166 bpm between when the little stinker was wiggling around too much for the Doppler to pick it up.
But I am still so nervous about the prospect of telling people. Especially parents and grandparents.
We told Nemo's parent's about our first pregnancy very early on, and then less than a week later we had to tell them that we lost the baby. We didn't tell them about the second pregnancy partly because I didn't want to tell them bad news again.
I know that they are going to be happy and excited when we tell them, but I worry that they will let our past losses taint their view of this new pregnancy. Maybe they won't be AS excited, you know? Because I'm the Woman Who Cried Pregnant.
Anyway, we are going to tell my parents and siblings when we go visit them for Christmas, and then we are having a bunch our friends over on New Year's Eve so we can break the news to them. I just need to get through the next two weeks. Yikes. I am praying that I will find some serious emotional strength!
I had an appointment with the midwife on Thursday, and everything seems to be going great. Heard a good heartbeat at 166 bpm between when the little stinker was wiggling around too much for the Doppler to pick it up.
But I am still so nervous about the prospect of telling people. Especially parents and grandparents.
We told Nemo's parent's about our first pregnancy very early on, and then less than a week later we had to tell them that we lost the baby. We didn't tell them about the second pregnancy partly because I didn't want to tell them bad news again.
I know that they are going to be happy and excited when we tell them, but I worry that they will let our past losses taint their view of this new pregnancy. Maybe they won't be AS excited, you know? Because I'm the Woman Who Cried Pregnant.
Anyway, we are going to tell my parents and siblings when we go visit them for Christmas, and then we are having a bunch our friends over on New Year's Eve so we can break the news to them. I just need to get through the next two weeks. Yikes. I am praying that I will find some serious emotional strength!
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Babygazing
First of all, thank you all for your support and encouragement. You light up my dark places! And special thanks to my prayer buddy; I can feel your prayers working in my life!
Our third ultrasound was yesterday. When the ultrasound tech got started, she said she was going to check out my ovaries and whatnot and then move on the the "baby stuff".
WHO CARES ABOUT MY OVARIES! I WANT TO SEE THE BABY!
Luckily she consented to check the baby's heart first and it was, in fact, beating at 163 BPM.
Then she had to hunt high and low for my ovaries. One was hidden next to my hip, and she couldn't find the other one and had to call in her supervisor. Everything is moving around so much!
I had been waiting in the waiting room for so long that I had to pee really badly by the time I got into the exam room, but the tech wouldn't let me go because it makes everything contract or something like that. And then, through the whole scan, she and her supervisor kept saying, "Wow! You're bladder is REALLY full!"
To which I wanted to reply, "I KNOW! PLEASE STOP PRESSING ON IT!" But you know, they were the ones facilitating the babygazing, so I was polite.
The baby was measuring 5.6 centimeters, or about 2.2 inches, which is just about perfect for 12 weeks. He/she had REALLY long legs, or maybe it just seemed that way because the last time I had an ultrasound the legs were too small to be seen.
Nemo was absolutely enchanted to see the baby. He is a man in love!
The baby was really having a lot of fun in there. It liked to bend its knees and then kick off the sides of my uterus and bounce around--it did that three times in a row, and then a few more times throughout the scan. It was so cute!
We saw fingers, toes, nose, and all that stuff. It liked to have its hands by its face--I like to think that it was sucking its thumb:)
The first thing I did after the scan was thank God. The second thing I did was hustle to the store to buy a belly band. The waistbands of my jeans are not my friends. So much more comfortable now!
This cold/flu/sinus infection, or whatever the heck it is, is really getting the better of me. Once I kick one symptom, the others get worse. All I have now is a mild cough, mild sore throat, and KILLER sinus pressure. I literally did not get to sleep until six o'clock this morning because it felt like someone was driving a railroad spike into my cheek. Then I had to get to work by 9:30am. Not fun.
I tried multiple steamy showers, putting a heating pad on my face, and drinking lots of hot liquids, but nothing seemed to help. I'm really afraid to go to the doctor because I think they will just prescribe antibiotics, which I am worried would hurt the baby and also I typically have really bad reactions to antibiotics--sometimes its worse than the actual illness. I'm really hoping I can kick this on my own, but I am at my wit's end! I'm really praying that things change drastically by Monday, or else I will have to seek treatment per an agreement I have with Nemo...
Our third ultrasound was yesterday. When the ultrasound tech got started, she said she was going to check out my ovaries and whatnot and then move on the the "baby stuff".
WHO CARES ABOUT MY OVARIES! I WANT TO SEE THE BABY!
Luckily she consented to check the baby's heart first and it was, in fact, beating at 163 BPM.
Then she had to hunt high and low for my ovaries. One was hidden next to my hip, and she couldn't find the other one and had to call in her supervisor. Everything is moving around so much!
I had been waiting in the waiting room for so long that I had to pee really badly by the time I got into the exam room, but the tech wouldn't let me go because it makes everything contract or something like that. And then, through the whole scan, she and her supervisor kept saying, "Wow! You're bladder is REALLY full!"
To which I wanted to reply, "I KNOW! PLEASE STOP PRESSING ON IT!" But you know, they were the ones facilitating the babygazing, so I was polite.
The baby was measuring 5.6 centimeters, or about 2.2 inches, which is just about perfect for 12 weeks. He/she had REALLY long legs, or maybe it just seemed that way because the last time I had an ultrasound the legs were too small to be seen.
Nemo was absolutely enchanted to see the baby. He is a man in love!
The baby was really having a lot of fun in there. It liked to bend its knees and then kick off the sides of my uterus and bounce around--it did that three times in a row, and then a few more times throughout the scan. It was so cute!
We saw fingers, toes, nose, and all that stuff. It liked to have its hands by its face--I like to think that it was sucking its thumb:)
The first thing I did after the scan was thank God. The second thing I did was hustle to the store to buy a belly band. The waistbands of my jeans are not my friends. So much more comfortable now!
This cold/flu/sinus infection, or whatever the heck it is, is really getting the better of me. Once I kick one symptom, the others get worse. All I have now is a mild cough, mild sore throat, and KILLER sinus pressure. I literally did not get to sleep until six o'clock this morning because it felt like someone was driving a railroad spike into my cheek. Then I had to get to work by 9:30am. Not fun.
I tried multiple steamy showers, putting a heating pad on my face, and drinking lots of hot liquids, but nothing seemed to help. I'm really afraid to go to the doctor because I think they will just prescribe antibiotics, which I am worried would hurt the baby and also I typically have really bad reactions to antibiotics--sometimes its worse than the actual illness. I'm really hoping I can kick this on my own, but I am at my wit's end! I'm really praying that things change drastically by Monday, or else I will have to seek treatment per an agreement I have with Nemo...
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Sick Day
Blech. I'm sick.
I had a mild sore throat for a few days, then Sunday night it hit me like a ton of bricks. Chills, aches, headache, congestion, and cough.
I took Monday off of work in an attempt to nip this cold in the bud. I don't get sick often, but when I do I DO, you know? The last time I got a cold it turned into a six-week battle with a secondary bacterial infection. No way I am letting that happen now. So yesterday I relaxed and drank tea and OJ and ate homemade chicken noodle soup that Nemo was so kind as to make for me. He also made me brownies. Honestly, he is such a blessing.
Whether or not it actually worked is still to be seen. My sore throat is marginally better and my cough is marginally worse. The congestion and sinus pressure isn't so bad today though. Thank goodness for that. But, I'm back at work regardless.
Friday is my 12-week ultrasound. I am characteristically anxious but also very VERY excited. I have been watching videos of other people's 12-week ultrasounds on Yout.ube so I know what to expect. I have to say, I was absolutely blown away by the the wiggling and squirming of those little babies! I knew that babies start moving in utero fairly early, but I was expecting more slow-motion, astronaut type movements. Not bouncing, kicking, and twisting like I saw in the videos. WOW! I want so badly to see my baby do that!
I had a mild sore throat for a few days, then Sunday night it hit me like a ton of bricks. Chills, aches, headache, congestion, and cough.
I took Monday off of work in an attempt to nip this cold in the bud. I don't get sick often, but when I do I DO, you know? The last time I got a cold it turned into a six-week battle with a secondary bacterial infection. No way I am letting that happen now. So yesterday I relaxed and drank tea and OJ and ate homemade chicken noodle soup that Nemo was so kind as to make for me. He also made me brownies. Honestly, he is such a blessing.
Whether or not it actually worked is still to be seen. My sore throat is marginally better and my cough is marginally worse. The congestion and sinus pressure isn't so bad today though. Thank goodness for that. But, I'm back at work regardless.
Friday is my 12-week ultrasound. I am characteristically anxious but also very VERY excited. I have been watching videos of other people's 12-week ultrasounds on Yout.ube so I know what to expect. I have to say, I was absolutely blown away by the the wiggling and squirming of those little babies! I knew that babies start moving in utero fairly early, but I was expecting more slow-motion, astronaut type movements. Not bouncing, kicking, and twisting like I saw in the videos. WOW! I want so badly to see my baby do that!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Chugging Along
It's been a while since I've posted. I wanted to post several times, but they all would have been a variation of, "I'm scared and I don't know how I'm going to get through this". I didn't want to sound like a broken record.
When we first found out about the baby, I half-jokingly said I was going to find a doctor who would put me in a medically-induced coma until the end of the first trimester so I wouldn't have to spend three months in constant worry. It turns out, God already has something like that built into the whole pregnancy thing. I get a good twelve hours of sleep most nights, and sometimes I nap during the day. So if I am feeling stressed out or anxious, I just go to bed and sleep it off. It makes the time pass quicker. It helps a lot, but there are times when I simply can't use this tactic, for example when I'm at work.
The news is that I'm 10 weeks, 3 days. The baby should be over an inch long and my uterus is the size of a grapefruit. I can really feel it in there, squashing everything else! I have an ultrasound scheduled for next Friday. Almost two weeks away. Sigh.
Nemo wants to start talking about finances, baby names, daycare plans, Godparent choices, and all of that. I love his eternal optimism but I just don't feel confident enough yet to talk about those things. There is still a long way to go.
I've recently realized that I am going to be worried about this child for it's entire life, no matter how long or short it may be. I've stumbled across a lot of heartbreaking stories on the internet about second-trimester losses, still births, losing a child soon after birth due to genetic abnormalities or SIDS, stuff like that. There is always a potential for something bad to happen. I don't want to let worry take over my life, but I am drawing a blank when it comes to doing something about it.
Wow, that was pretty disjointed. My apologies.
Everyone have a blessed Advent season!
When we first found out about the baby, I half-jokingly said I was going to find a doctor who would put me in a medically-induced coma until the end of the first trimester so I wouldn't have to spend three months in constant worry. It turns out, God already has something like that built into the whole pregnancy thing. I get a good twelve hours of sleep most nights, and sometimes I nap during the day. So if I am feeling stressed out or anxious, I just go to bed and sleep it off. It makes the time pass quicker. It helps a lot, but there are times when I simply can't use this tactic, for example when I'm at work.
The news is that I'm 10 weeks, 3 days. The baby should be over an inch long and my uterus is the size of a grapefruit. I can really feel it in there, squashing everything else! I have an ultrasound scheduled for next Friday. Almost two weeks away. Sigh.
Nemo wants to start talking about finances, baby names, daycare plans, Godparent choices, and all of that. I love his eternal optimism but I just don't feel confident enough yet to talk about those things. There is still a long way to go.
I've recently realized that I am going to be worried about this child for it's entire life, no matter how long or short it may be. I've stumbled across a lot of heartbreaking stories on the internet about second-trimester losses, still births, losing a child soon after birth due to genetic abnormalities or SIDS, stuff like that. There is always a potential for something bad to happen. I don't want to let worry take over my life, but I am drawing a blank when it comes to doing something about it.
Wow, that was pretty disjointed. My apologies.
Everyone have a blessed Advent season!
Friday, November 19, 2010
Wonderful!
This morning I skipped out of work to go to my first midwife appointment! And I couldn't be more pleased with them. Everyone, from the check-in staff to the midwife herself, was so kind and polite and reassuring.
They had an ultrasound machine in the midwife practice, but apparently it is really old and not reliable, so the midwife tried to hear the baby's heartbeat with a Doppler first...and it worked! At nine weeks! She said it is more typical to hear it with a Doppler at 10-12 weeks. It sounded like a little train going chugga chugga in there--it was so cute! It was in the 150-160 range, which is perfect. She also checked my cervix, and it was nice and closed just like it is supposed to be. Thank God!
The midwife is so nice, in fact, that she said that I can come in whenever I want to hear the baby's heartbeat to calm my nerves (apparently they don't like those home Doppler systems for a multitude of reasons). And she gave me a prescription for a full-on ultrasound with measurements and everything to use whenever I want. Which is good because Nemo wants to be there for any "baby-gazing", as he calls it, so we can schedule it for when he isn't in class. It's not medically necessary, but she that said if I asked, because of my history she would give me one. Like I would turn down a chance to see the baby!
I especially liked the midwife because she was very honest. I don't like it when medical professionals act like everything is fine and I have nothing to worry about. They don't understand that I'm not one of those lucky women. The midwife told me that because we've heard the heartbeat and I've made it past 8 weeks, the risk of miscarriage is very low at this point, but not zero. For some reason I really liked that she acknowledged that. I feel like I can trust her to tell me the truth, which I can't with most of the doctors I have met with in the past.
Anyway, it's been a good day so far. I just have to get through the rest of the day of work and then Nemo and I are off to play bridge with our good friends Mr. and Mrs. E. Wonderful!
They had an ultrasound machine in the midwife practice, but apparently it is really old and not reliable, so the midwife tried to hear the baby's heartbeat with a Doppler first...and it worked! At nine weeks! She said it is more typical to hear it with a Doppler at 10-12 weeks. It sounded like a little train going chugga chugga in there--it was so cute! It was in the 150-160 range, which is perfect. She also checked my cervix, and it was nice and closed just like it is supposed to be. Thank God!
The midwife is so nice, in fact, that she said that I can come in whenever I want to hear the baby's heartbeat to calm my nerves (apparently they don't like those home Doppler systems for a multitude of reasons). And she gave me a prescription for a full-on ultrasound with measurements and everything to use whenever I want. Which is good because Nemo wants to be there for any "baby-gazing", as he calls it, so we can schedule it for when he isn't in class. It's not medically necessary, but she that said if I asked, because of my history she would give me one. Like I would turn down a chance to see the baby!
I especially liked the midwife because she was very honest. I don't like it when medical professionals act like everything is fine and I have nothing to worry about. They don't understand that I'm not one of those lucky women. The midwife told me that because we've heard the heartbeat and I've made it past 8 weeks, the risk of miscarriage is very low at this point, but not zero. For some reason I really liked that she acknowledged that. I feel like I can trust her to tell me the truth, which I can't with most of the doctors I have met with in the past.
Anyway, it's been a good day so far. I just have to get through the rest of the day of work and then Nemo and I are off to play bridge with our good friends Mr. and Mrs. E. Wonderful!
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Breaking Records
As of Monday I was officially the most pregnant I have ever been.
Today I am seven weeks, six days.
I'm still experiencing a fair amount of anxiety. It's hard to be calm when my symptoms kind of come and go as they please. This morning Nemo told me that I've been grinding my teeth at night, which is not something I normally do! But it makes sense, as I have continued to have disturbing dreams every night since I found out. I am so thankful to have this baby to worry about, but sometimes I think that I'm not strong enough for this.
My first appointment with the midwife is next Friday. If I make it that far, they will do an informal ultrasound just to "ease my mind". So now I'm counting down the days to that.
Oh, and I told Older Sister about the baby and Nemo told his "work mom" (some people have a work spouse, he has a work mom. It is pretty cute). They are the only two people who know about both of our losses, so they know what is at stake and are being as supportive as they can.
In other news, a job at the library branch about a quarter of a mile away from my house opened up, and I decided to apply for it. Baby or no baby, there are certain advantages to working close to home. There are disadvantages too, but I made a pro and con list, and the pros turned out to outweigh the cons. But mostly it would be so cool not to lose an hour every day to a commute!
Today I am seven weeks, six days.
I'm still experiencing a fair amount of anxiety. It's hard to be calm when my symptoms kind of come and go as they please. This morning Nemo told me that I've been grinding my teeth at night, which is not something I normally do! But it makes sense, as I have continued to have disturbing dreams every night since I found out. I am so thankful to have this baby to worry about, but sometimes I think that I'm not strong enough for this.
My first appointment with the midwife is next Friday. If I make it that far, they will do an informal ultrasound just to "ease my mind". So now I'm counting down the days to that.
Oh, and I told Older Sister about the baby and Nemo told his "work mom" (some people have a work spouse, he has a work mom. It is pretty cute). They are the only two people who know about both of our losses, so they know what is at stake and are being as supportive as they can.
In other news, a job at the library branch about a quarter of a mile away from my house opened up, and I decided to apply for it. Baby or no baby, there are certain advantages to working close to home. There are disadvantages too, but I made a pro and con list, and the pros turned out to outweigh the cons. But mostly it would be so cool not to lose an hour every day to a commute!
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Heartbeat
Sorry for the lack of posting and commenting this past week. I was just trying to keep my head down and get through the week. Thank you all for your suggestions! When I wasn't sleeping (which is almost all the time) I did some DIY stuff and started a new knitting project. And now that it's a new budget month I am definitely going to get that pedicure!
But down to business--we went in for our second ultrasound this morning, and we saw the baby and the heart beating at 120 beats per minute. What a difference a week makes!
It was a very scary experience because they didn't let Nemo in the room until they had completed the scan, and the screen was turned away from me the whole time and the technician didn't say a thing.
So there I was, lying on a table and praying numerous silent Hail Marys when I heard a heartbeat coming from the monitor and I asked the technician if it was mine. I mean, my heart was about pounding out of my chest, so it could have been. But she gave me a funny look and said, "No, that's the baby's heartbeat."
So there you go. Here I was thinking that you could only see the heartbeat this early, not hear it.
After the technician was all done she called Nemo in and then we finally see the little bean and its little heart flickering. It was really cool. I've never gotten to see that before. I'll never forget it.
The heartbeat is in no way a guarantee. A lot can happen in the next six weeks. But I am thankful to have reached this milestone.
I've been gradually developing some symptoms, which reassures me somewhat. I sleep A LOT. As soon as I get home from work I flop down on the couch and doze until dinner time, then I eat what I can and watch tv for an hour or so before going to bed for the night. I alternate between queasy and starving, but even when I'm starving I can't eat much because everything tastes disgusting. I am incredibly thirsty though; I just can't get enough of that delicious water. Was water always this awesome?
Anyway, that's the news for now. Thank you all so much for the prayers and support! They have been invaluable to me.
But down to business--we went in for our second ultrasound this morning, and we saw the baby and the heart beating at 120 beats per minute. What a difference a week makes!
It was a very scary experience because they didn't let Nemo in the room until they had completed the scan, and the screen was turned away from me the whole time and the technician didn't say a thing.
So there I was, lying on a table and praying numerous silent Hail Marys when I heard a heartbeat coming from the monitor and I asked the technician if it was mine. I mean, my heart was about pounding out of my chest, so it could have been. But she gave me a funny look and said, "No, that's the baby's heartbeat."
So there you go. Here I was thinking that you could only see the heartbeat this early, not hear it.
After the technician was all done she called Nemo in and then we finally see the little bean and its little heart flickering. It was really cool. I've never gotten to see that before. I'll never forget it.
The heartbeat is in no way a guarantee. A lot can happen in the next six weeks. But I am thankful to have reached this milestone.
I've been gradually developing some symptoms, which reassures me somewhat. I sleep A LOT. As soon as I get home from work I flop down on the couch and doze until dinner time, then I eat what I can and watch tv for an hour or so before going to bed for the night. I alternate between queasy and starving, but even when I'm starving I can't eat much because everything tastes disgusting. I am incredibly thirsty though; I just can't get enough of that delicious water. Was water always this awesome?
Anyway, that's the news for now. Thank you all so much for the prayers and support! They have been invaluable to me.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Ultrasound
Nemo and I went to the doctor today for my first ultrasound. We saw the gestational sac and the yolk sac, which were both measuring fine for 5-6 weeks. It is intrauterine and positioned in the upper part of the uterus, which is good, no, excellent news. The nurse said that the pregnancy looks great on paper, so I am trying to cling to that.
But there was no fetal pole, and hence, no heartbeat.
I keep telling myself it is just too early. We have another ultrasound scheduled for next Wednesday in the morning, and the nurse said that is when they would expect to see a heartbeat.
This is going to be the longest week ever.
Any and all self-distraction tips would be welcome, if you got 'em!
But there was no fetal pole, and hence, no heartbeat.
I keep telling myself it is just too early. We have another ultrasound scheduled for next Wednesday in the morning, and the nurse said that is when they would expect to see a heartbeat.
This is going to be the longest week ever.
Any and all self-distraction tips would be welcome, if you got 'em!
Friday, October 22, 2010
7 Quick Takes
1. We made it to 5 weeks, and as far as I know I'm still pregnant. I have trouble keeping my eyes open after 9pm and I can smell everything, but other than that my symptoms are pretty mild. I never throught I would be eager to barf, but I can't wait for morning sickness to kick in. And I hope that I'll regret ever saying that:)
2. Tomorrow is family picture day! I'm really nervous about the clothes I have picked out and whether or not I will be having a bad hair day, but mostly I am excited. The weather is going to be beautiful tomorrow, and since the shoot is going to be outdoors this is terrific news! One less thing to obssess about.
3. I'm having a work-related crisis. An ex-coworker who I didn't get along with is going to be my current co-worker once again starting on Monday. She was kind of a bully and made me feel terrible about myself, and I am having a hard time reconciling with the fact that I'm going to have to see her every day. Blech. Praying that I'll handle it gracefully and with minimun breakdowns in my office.
4. Nemo and I are going to New Orleans in January with my in-laws. Nemo and his dad work in the same field and will be attending a conference there. Me and MIL are going just to stay in a nice hotel and see the sights. Traveling tends to stress me out a little bit, but I am trying to be a little more adventurous. If this pregnancy continues I'll be about 16 weeks then, so it could be a nice babymoon trip.
5. I heard this great prayer on the Faith and Family Live podcast today:
Prayer to Our Lady of La Leche
O Lord Jesus Christ, through the intercession of Your tender Mother, Our Lady of La Leche, who bore You close to her heart during those long months before Your birth, I place my baby and myself entirely in Your Hands. Free me, I beseech You, from useless and consuming worry. Accept the sacrifice of my aches and pains, which I unite to Your sufferings on the Cross. Above all, most merciful and loving Jesus, protect this child You have given to me from all harm, bestowing the health and vigor every baby needs. Implant in my heart and on my lips the words and prayers of Your Mother and mine, our Lovely Lady of La Leche. All this I ask that my child and I may live to praise forever Your Holy Name.
Amen.
I think I am going to try to memorize it.
I've been talking St. Gerard, St. Gianna, St. Joseph, and Our Lady of Guadalupe's ears off.
6. The Irish Wolfhound project has hit a few roadblocks. The breeder we wanted to go with has been ignoring our emails for months, and we're starting to get really frustrated with them. Now we have to do our research all over again to find another breeder that we like. Sigh. I'm trying not to take it personally, but how unprofessional are you if you don't return emails in a timely fashion? Jerks.
7. My mom is back in school studying to be a physician's assistant. It is a very rigorous program and she doesn't have much time to eat or sleep or chat. It's something she really wants to accomplish and of course I support her, but I still miss talking on the phone with her sometimes.
2. Tomorrow is family picture day! I'm really nervous about the clothes I have picked out and whether or not I will be having a bad hair day, but mostly I am excited. The weather is going to be beautiful tomorrow, and since the shoot is going to be outdoors this is terrific news! One less thing to obssess about.
3. I'm having a work-related crisis. An ex-coworker who I didn't get along with is going to be my current co-worker once again starting on Monday. She was kind of a bully and made me feel terrible about myself, and I am having a hard time reconciling with the fact that I'm going to have to see her every day. Blech. Praying that I'll handle it gracefully and with minimun breakdowns in my office.
4. Nemo and I are going to New Orleans in January with my in-laws. Nemo and his dad work in the same field and will be attending a conference there. Me and MIL are going just to stay in a nice hotel and see the sights. Traveling tends to stress me out a little bit, but I am trying to be a little more adventurous. If this pregnancy continues I'll be about 16 weeks then, so it could be a nice babymoon trip.
5. I heard this great prayer on the Faith and Family Live podcast today:
Prayer to Our Lady of La Leche
O Lord Jesus Christ, through the intercession of Your tender Mother, Our Lady of La Leche, who bore You close to her heart during those long months before Your birth, I place my baby and myself entirely in Your Hands. Free me, I beseech You, from useless and consuming worry. Accept the sacrifice of my aches and pains, which I unite to Your sufferings on the Cross. Above all, most merciful and loving Jesus, protect this child You have given to me from all harm, bestowing the health and vigor every baby needs. Implant in my heart and on my lips the words and prayers of Your Mother and mine, our Lovely Lady of La Leche. All this I ask that my child and I may live to praise forever Your Holy Name.
Amen.
I think I am going to try to memorize it.
I've been talking St. Gerard, St. Gianna, St. Joseph, and Our Lady of Guadalupe's ears off.
6. The Irish Wolfhound project has hit a few roadblocks. The breeder we wanted to go with has been ignoring our emails for months, and we're starting to get really frustrated with them. Now we have to do our research all over again to find another breeder that we like. Sigh. I'm trying not to take it personally, but how unprofessional are you if you don't return emails in a timely fashion? Jerks.
7. My mom is back in school studying to be a physician's assistant. It is a very rigorous program and she doesn't have much time to eat or sleep or chat. It's something she really wants to accomplish and of course I support her, but I still miss talking on the phone with her sometimes.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
More Than Tripled
This morning my hCG was at 1,823. Praise God!
My progesterone level from my first draw on Monday (before I started supplementing) was 35.9. To give me some perspective, the nurse told me that their machine only goes up to 40. Regardless, I have instructions to continue with the progesterone.
I have an appointment for an ultrasound on next Wednesday to confirm dates and check the placement. I had to reschedule it so that Nemo could come too--he would really love it and I really want him to be there with me. Stupid school! I don't understand why he can't skip.
I will be between 5 weeks 5 days then. It will probably be too early to see a heartbeat, even if the pregnancy is viable. That is going to freak me out in a major way. Grow fast, baby! We want to see you!
My progesterone level from my first draw on Monday (before I started supplementing) was 35.9. To give me some perspective, the nurse told me that their machine only goes up to 40. Regardless, I have instructions to continue with the progesterone.
I have an appointment for an ultrasound on next Wednesday to confirm dates and check the placement. I had to reschedule it so that Nemo could come too--he would really love it and I really want him to be there with me. Stupid school! I don't understand why he can't skip.
I will be between 5 weeks 5 days then. It will probably be too early to see a heartbeat, even if the pregnancy is viable. That is going to freak me out in a major way. Grow fast, baby! We want to see you!
Monday, October 18, 2010
The Verdict
It's official: my hCG was at 575 when they checked it this morning.
According to the American Pregnancy website, the hCG levels for 4 weeks LMP should be 5-426 and 5 weeks LMP should be 18-7,340. I'm right in the middle at 4 weeks 3 days now, so the number seems good to me. I'm going in on Wednesday to have my levels checked again, and I'm fervently praying that the number will be 1,150 or above.
They are also going to test the blood they took today for progesterone levels, but regardless of the results they are giving me a prescription for progesterone suppositories. Sounds like fun? But totally worth it if it helps.
Tiredness has kicked it--but it may or may not be pregnancy-related. It may also be that I haven't been sleeping well. Ever since I found out, I have been having very life-like nightmares that I go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and discover that I'm miscarrying. Not very conducive to a good night's sleep. Maybe I need to drink more chamomile tea. And take deep breaths. Hoo hee hoo hee hoo hee.
But for right now me and Baby are together, and that makes me go, Yay!
According to the American Pregnancy website, the hCG levels for 4 weeks LMP should be 5-426 and 5 weeks LMP should be 18-7,340. I'm right in the middle at 4 weeks 3 days now, so the number seems good to me. I'm going in on Wednesday to have my levels checked again, and I'm fervently praying that the number will be 1,150 or above.
They are also going to test the blood they took today for progesterone levels, but regardless of the results they are giving me a prescription for progesterone suppositories. Sounds like fun? But totally worth it if it helps.
Tiredness has kicked it--but it may or may not be pregnancy-related. It may also be that I haven't been sleeping well. Ever since I found out, I have been having very life-like nightmares that I go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and discover that I'm miscarrying. Not very conducive to a good night's sleep. Maybe I need to drink more chamomile tea. And take deep breaths. Hoo hee hoo hee hoo hee.
But for right now me and Baby are together, and that makes me go, Yay!
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Appointment on Monday
Thank you all for the well wishes!
I have an appointment at my R.E. Dr. S' office first thing Monday morning to have blood drawn for a beta test. Maybe seeing the cold hard numbers will make it more real for me.They will get the results to me the same day, so I will let you know when I know:)
Calling the Doctor's office was kind of a surreal experience. The nurse asked if me 1) how long ago was my LMP and 2) are my periods regular? I told her that I chart for NFP purposes so I was absolutely sure that my period would have been due on Friday. To which she replied, "Um, what does that mean?"
So I got to tell her all about cervical fluid and temperatures. It really surprises me how few medical professionals know what NFP is, let alone how to use it as a diagnostic tool. What a shame!
For the record my LMP was September 15, but I didn't ovulate until October 1 (CD17), so that makes me four weeks, one day right now. I thought about putting a ticker on the blog but then I thought it might bum me out to see how far away 13 weeks and relative safety is. So I'll hold off for now. I think I'll stick with having staring contests with my calendar, because that totally makes time go faster! LOL.
It didn't come across this way in my last post, but I'm happy! And excited! Nemo is too. He's already researching and planning elaborate menus to give me and the baby the best nutrition possible.
His faith is amazing. He knew it was going to be this cycle!
It was so nice to go to bed last night as a family of three again.
I have an appointment at my R.E. Dr. S' office first thing Monday morning to have blood drawn for a beta test. Maybe seeing the cold hard numbers will make it more real for me.They will get the results to me the same day, so I will let you know when I know:)
Calling the Doctor's office was kind of a surreal experience. The nurse asked if me 1) how long ago was my LMP and 2) are my periods regular? I told her that I chart for NFP purposes so I was absolutely sure that my period would have been due on Friday. To which she replied, "Um, what does that mean?"
So I got to tell her all about cervical fluid and temperatures. It really surprises me how few medical professionals know what NFP is, let alone how to use it as a diagnostic tool. What a shame!
For the record my LMP was September 15, but I didn't ovulate until October 1 (CD17), so that makes me four weeks, one day right now. I thought about putting a ticker on the blog but then I thought it might bum me out to see how far away 13 weeks and relative safety is. So I'll hold off for now. I think I'll stick with having staring contests with my calendar, because that totally makes time go faster! LOL.
It didn't come across this way in my last post, but I'm happy! And excited! Nemo is too. He's already researching and planning elaborate menus to give me and the baby the best nutrition possible.
His faith is amazing. He knew it was going to be this cycle!
It was so nice to go to bed last night as a family of three again.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Recent Mood Swings Explained
**Please don't feel obligated to continue reading if you find this painful in any way.
I might have had a meltdown on Sunday because I'm
The line is faint, but definitely there.
I've just left a message for the nurses at my Reproductive Endocrinologist's office to see what the next step is. I hope they get back to me soon.
The only reason I'm not scared out of my mind right now is because I am too stunned.
All day yesterday I was in a horrible mood because I was (I thought) PMSing like no one's business, and I was 100% sure that AF would be arriving right on time.
After monitoring every bodily sensation for the last two weeks, I had deduced that I had none of my usual symptoms of pregnancy. My bbs are a little tender, but nowhere near the excruciating pain I experienced during my last two pregnancies. I haven't been excessively hungry or thirsty or tired (although I did take two naps this week but I thought that was just because I was bored).
The only clue I had was that my temperatures were remaining fairly high, but I didn't think much of it because last cycle they decided they weren't going to go down right before AF arrived, but rather nine days after. I thought the same thing was just happening again.
So I saw absolutely no point in taking an HPT.
When I woke up this morning and took my temperature it was still high. I was frozen with indecision. To POAS or not to POAS? It would be a shame to waste it, but it would be so nice to just confirm it was negative so I could begin looking forward to the new cycle.
I eventually bit the bullet and just did it. I took the stick into my office to mess around on the computer while I waited the two minutes until I could go back to bed. I glanced at it before the allotted time, and saw just what you see in the picture above. But my brain was all like,
Once we had, with out collective early-morning brainpower, confirmed that there was indeed a cross and that a cross did indeed make the test positive, we tried to go back to sleep. Ha. As if.
I really don't know what to think. I don't quite believe it. I know what the test said, but I just don't feel pregnant. But since I only know what a doomed pregnancy feels like, maybe this isn't a bad thing. They say that every pregnancy is different.
All I can do is turn this over to God. His will be done, even if it means the child will go to His heavenly home instead of my earthly one. That is what my rational self is thinking.
But my heart is saying, Oh God, please don't take this one from me.
Ok, I am freaking out.
I might have had a meltdown on Sunday because I'm
The line is faint, but definitely there.
I've just left a message for the nurses at my Reproductive Endocrinologist's office to see what the next step is. I hope they get back to me soon.
The only reason I'm not scared out of my mind right now is because I am too stunned.
All day yesterday I was in a horrible mood because I was (I thought) PMSing like no one's business, and I was 100% sure that AF would be arriving right on time.
After monitoring every bodily sensation for the last two weeks, I had deduced that I had none of my usual symptoms of pregnancy. My bbs are a little tender, but nowhere near the excruciating pain I experienced during my last two pregnancies. I haven't been excessively hungry or thirsty or tired (although I did take two naps this week but I thought that was just because I was bored).
The only clue I had was that my temperatures were remaining fairly high, but I didn't think much of it because last cycle they decided they weren't going to go down right before AF arrived, but rather nine days after. I thought the same thing was just happening again.
So I saw absolutely no point in taking an HPT.
When I woke up this morning and took my temperature it was still high. I was frozen with indecision. To POAS or not to POAS? It would be a shame to waste it, but it would be so nice to just confirm it was negative so I could begin looking forward to the new cycle.
I eventually bit the bullet and just did it. I took the stick into my office to mess around on the computer while I waited the two minutes until I could go back to bed. I glanced at it before the allotted time, and saw just what you see in the picture above. But my brain was all like,
"?"
All of this early morning activity, rummaging in linen closet to find the last HPT and whatnot, had signaled to the sleeping Nemo (I've decided that is going to be N's blog nickname) that something was up. He stumbled in to the office looking very confused, and I confused him further by shoving the test at him and asking what he saw.Once we had, with out collective early-morning brainpower, confirmed that there was indeed a cross and that a cross did indeed make the test positive, we tried to go back to sleep. Ha. As if.
I really don't know what to think. I don't quite believe it. I know what the test said, but I just don't feel pregnant. But since I only know what a doomed pregnancy feels like, maybe this isn't a bad thing. They say that every pregnancy is different.
All I can do is turn this over to God. His will be done, even if it means the child will go to His heavenly home instead of my earthly one. That is what my rational self is thinking.
But my heart is saying, Oh God, please don't take this one from me.
Ok, I am freaking out.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
One Step Back
I thought I had recently turned a corner, but it turns out I haven't accepted a thing. Not by a long shot.
On Sunday I had a full-day marathon breakdown, which unfortunately coincided with a six-hour car ride as N and I were coming back from a mini-vacation. I was in a complete panic about the future and still (still!) unable to accept the past.
Full disclosure: I have been dealing with varying degrees of depression since I was a teenager. I made the decision in college to stop taking medication and I haven't since. It was a personal decision and I make no judgment on people who do take medication to control their condition.
I have been in and out of psychologists' offices since I was fourteen. I don't know if I just have terrible luck when choosing psychologists or if I am just immune to therapy, but I have never found them to be terribly useful. I haven't had an appointment for over a year and a half.
That said, N would really like me to try again. I don't have the quality of life that he would wish for me, and he thinks I deserve better. I can't even wrap my head around the idea. A psychologist can't give me back what I lost. Short of medication, which I will not take, they cannot alleviate my anxiety. The only thing that will make me better is a baby in my arms.
I think I am doing all of the things a psychologist would recommend. I exercise. I eat right. I get enough sleep. I spend time with friends. I have cultivated new hobbies. But even when I am trying every trick in the book, sometimes I still can't drown out the running inner-monologue that tells me that I am a failure.
But what more is there? What else can I do?
We hashed all that out in the car but didn't come to an agreement. But what really did help me in that moment was N talking about how the loss of our children affected him. I get so wrapped up in my own sadness and anxiety that I sometimes forget that it happened to him too. Of course I don't like to see him experiencing those feelings, but it means so much to me to know that I am not alone in my struggle.
Crap, now I'm crying again. I want to make him a father so badly.
I'm 11DPO. I only have one HPT left, and I don't want to waste it by taking it too early. If things look promising in the next couple of days (it's not looking too good right now but you never know), I'll take it on Friday morning.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Daydreaming
I'm 5DPO.
I actually remembered to take muc.inex on my most fertile days, we used all the good days, and I had a dream that I took a pregnancy test and it was so positive that there were three pink lines. So we'll see what happens. But don't worry, I have learned not to hold my breath. This month I will not get ahead of myself.
I will not analyze every little "symptom" that I "experience". Surely this crampy feeling can be attributed to the...ok I drew a blank. And I'm sure the reason that I can smell the individual contents of the garbage from across the room is because it is just a stinky day.
And I'm not looking at maternity clothes and changing tables on craigsl.ist. That would be silly. Who needs maternity clothes? Not this lady.
So I lied; this month is just like all the other months. I can't decide if it is hope or stupidity.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Adoption
My twenty-sixth birthday was two months after my second miscarriage. I was at the height of my misery, and was doubting that I would be able to become a mother naturally. On my birthday I asked N that, if we shouldn't have made significant progress (pregnant and through the first trimester) by my twenty-eighth birthday, then we would start looking into adoption.
To me, adoption seems like the most natural thing in the world. My family began to do foster care when I was eleven. For a while we just took in babies under one year old (my mom had some serious baby fever), but then less than a week before Christmas 1995 we took in a set of siblings, a three-year-old boy and a two-year-old girl.
After four years and a lot of drama my parents adopted the girl, but she was my Baby Sister from the moment she first walked in our door, not when the Judge signed the papers. I love her to death. I can't imagine my life without her as my sister.
But N wasn't willing to commit to my timeline. He doesn't have any personal experience with adoption. It's a foreign concept to him, and I think he doubts his ability to love an adopted child. He doesn't give himself enough credit! I know how much love he is capable of. When I see him with our Godson, it just about breaks my heart.
I've been worrying about N a lot lately. He is very stressed and isn't sleeping well. I think most of it stems from the as-yet unsuccessful job search. I've never been particularly devoted to St. Joseph, but recently, seemingly out of nowhere, I have been feeling the urge to ask for his help.
Today is my Novena Day, and I will be praying a Novena to St. Joseph to help my dear sweet husband. Not to make him agree to my adoption timeline, but just to guide him in general.
To me, adoption seems like the most natural thing in the world. My family began to do foster care when I was eleven. For a while we just took in babies under one year old (my mom had some serious baby fever), but then less than a week before Christmas 1995 we took in a set of siblings, a three-year-old boy and a two-year-old girl.
After four years and a lot of drama my parents adopted the girl, but she was my Baby Sister from the moment she first walked in our door, not when the Judge signed the papers. I love her to death. I can't imagine my life without her as my sister.
But N wasn't willing to commit to my timeline. He doesn't have any personal experience with adoption. It's a foreign concept to him, and I think he doubts his ability to love an adopted child. He doesn't give himself enough credit! I know how much love he is capable of. When I see him with our Godson, it just about breaks my heart.
I've been worrying about N a lot lately. He is very stressed and isn't sleeping well. I think most of it stems from the as-yet unsuccessful job search. I've never been particularly devoted to St. Joseph, but recently, seemingly out of nowhere, I have been feeling the urge to ask for his help.
Today is my Novena Day, and I will be praying a Novena to St. Joseph to help my dear sweet husband. Not to make him agree to my adoption timeline, but just to guide him in general.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Recuperating
Yesterday, October 3, was what would have been the due date of the second child I conceived, Lily.
I surprised myself by how well I handled it. She was the first thing I thought about when I woke up. I felt sad that I never got to hold her. That I never even got to see her on a sonogram. I felt so very, very sorry--sorry that she died, but not that she existed. If she had never been I wouldn't have gone through the pain of losing her, but even having her those few short weeks was worth any price. I felt the hurt and the disappointment all over again, but I didn't let it control me.
I prayed for her at Mass instead of asking God why. Is this what acceptance feels like?
The past few weeks I have been feeling the presence of God in strange and wonderful ways. The most jolting was last Friday. After rolling out of bed I went to daily Mass. Without why it was on my mind or how it got there, before the Mass began I was contemplating the phrase "I give you thanks that I am fearfully, wonderfully made". I am not one to memorize or quote scripture, so it was very out of character for me. I suddenly realized that although there may be something wrong with me that will prevent me from becoming a mother naturally, I am still fearfully and wonderfully made. My little saints, though they could not continue to live, were also fearfully and wonderfully made. God took care with us. He took care OF us. I felt more loved that I had in a very long time.
When the lector proclaimed those very words as part of the Responsorial Psalm, I about fell off the pew in shock.
Then, at Mass yesterday, St. Paul tells Timothy that "God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather of power and love and self-control. With God, I can be strong. I can be brave. I will not lose heart.
God isn't doing anything extra. It's just that, now that I have laid aside my hurt and anger I am finally able to listen.
I surprised myself by how well I handled it. She was the first thing I thought about when I woke up. I felt sad that I never got to hold her. That I never even got to see her on a sonogram. I felt so very, very sorry--sorry that she died, but not that she existed. If she had never been I wouldn't have gone through the pain of losing her, but even having her those few short weeks was worth any price. I felt the hurt and the disappointment all over again, but I didn't let it control me.
I prayed for her at Mass instead of asking God why. Is this what acceptance feels like?
The past few weeks I have been feeling the presence of God in strange and wonderful ways. The most jolting was last Friday. After rolling out of bed I went to daily Mass. Without why it was on my mind or how it got there, before the Mass began I was contemplating the phrase "I give you thanks that I am fearfully, wonderfully made". I am not one to memorize or quote scripture, so it was very out of character for me. I suddenly realized that although there may be something wrong with me that will prevent me from becoming a mother naturally, I am still fearfully and wonderfully made. My little saints, though they could not continue to live, were also fearfully and wonderfully made. God took care with us. He took care OF us. I felt more loved that I had in a very long time.
When the lector proclaimed those very words as part of the Responsorial Psalm, I about fell off the pew in shock.
Then, at Mass yesterday, St. Paul tells Timothy that "God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather of power and love and self-control. With God, I can be strong. I can be brave. I will not lose heart.
God isn't doing anything extra. It's just that, now that I have laid aside my hurt and anger I am finally able to listen.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Confounded
It's CD9, and a lot of weird things have been going on, fertilitiy-wise, in the last month.
- Last cycle, I ovulated on day 13 (usually day 19-21)
- Last cycle was 27 days long (usually 34)
- I had some spotting before and after my period, which was lighter than normal (but not "light").
- My cramps were not as bad a usual, but towards the end of my period I experienced this weird scratching sensation where the cramps normally would be. Just like someone lightly scratching my insides with a fingernail.
- I've developed this weird PMS-y backache in the last two days.
- Weirdest of all, my temperatures have been absurdly high during the first week of my cycle. I've also been feeling really overheated, especially when I'm in bed at night. I've been kicking off all the covers--that never happens!
I took a pregnancy test on CD6, not because I thought I was pregnant but I didn't think it would hurt to rule it out. It was NEGATIVE. I was ok with that. But I would really like to know what is going on. I am really kicking myself for not charting the end of last cycle. I need more data!
On CD27 I woke up and took my temperature for the first time in two weeks. It was 97.8--REALLY high for me. I ran to the bathroom to take a pregnancy test, only to realize that I had started spotting. My period was on the way, so I put the test away. I assumed my temp would go down to normal in the next couple of days.
The next morning my temp was still high, but I had had my customary CD1 glass of wine (or 2) the night before, so I thought that might be the cause.
But here it is eight days later and my temps have not been out of the mid 97s. A whole degree higher than normal, even when I take the flax seed oil supplements, which I haven't done for a while. I'm actually LESS stressed than normal, so I don't think that's it. I'm not sick, as far as I can tell. I've actually been feeling rather good lately.
So what gives?
I've been freaking out. What if my period was actually a very early miscarriage, and my temperatures are still high from the lingering progesterone in my system? There's no way to know, so I should just forget about it. But I can't.
I've never been one to take pregnancy tests less than 14 DPO, but maybe I should start. Because, truth be told, I worry that EVERY period is a miscarriage. It might give me some peace of mind to rule it out before the bleeding starts.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
And now for something completely different
So I finished the shower curtain. In order to showcase it properly, I'm going to need to show you the bathroom "before" pictures. Brace yourselves.
Oh yes. We actually bought a house with that monstrosity lurking in the basement. The shower worked. Sometimes the toilet did too. But the sink was conspicuous in its absence, there were gaping holes in the drywall and ceiling, and the shower vent didn't actually vent anywhere. It was a beauty. Luckily it was just the backup bathroom.
Even though we've owned the house for three years, we didn't start tackling the project until this June. It actually looked better without the "walls".
There followed significant drywalling, mudding, sanding, and painting. Maybe some wailing and whining and stomping of feet. It's still not done but would you look at that beautiful shower curtain?!
Who cares if the floor is missing some tiles and there still isn't a sink? I declare the curtain a raging success.
Oh yes. We actually bought a house with that monstrosity lurking in the basement. The shower worked. Sometimes the toilet did too. But the sink was conspicuous in its absence, there were gaping holes in the drywall and ceiling, and the shower vent didn't actually vent anywhere. It was a beauty. Luckily it was just the backup bathroom.Even though we've owned the house for three years, we didn't start tackling the project until this June. It actually looked better without the "walls".
There followed significant drywalling, mudding, sanding, and painting. Maybe some wailing and whining and stomping of feet. It's still not done but would you look at that beautiful shower curtain?!
Who cares if the floor is missing some tiles and there still isn't a sink? I declare the curtain a raging success.
Monday, September 20, 2010
I've Got Things to Do
So I have a new project. Ok, several.
The first is...a family portrait!
No one in our circle of friends is a picture-taker, so there are very few pictures of N and I together. Or separately, for that matter. Anyway, I have decided to shell out the cash to have a professional photographer take pictures of us, so I am in the midst of deciding on locations and props and trying to remember how to put on makeup. Yesterday afternoon I actually found myself watching a video tutorial on the internet on how to do my curly hair--made by a college student! I was complaining to N, "How can eighteen-year-olds be so good at this stuff! It's absolutely ridiculous! They've only been on earth for eighteen years and their mom probably did their hair for half of that! How is that enough time to be an expert?"
To which N replied, "Well, you can get really good at anything if its all you do for five or six years." Right. Good point.
Well, I missed that stage in my development, and I am now reduced to asking teenagers for help. Blarg.
Anyway, we're going to give prints of the resultant pictures to our parents, grandparents, and aunts and uncles, so it is like hitting a bazillion birds with one stone!
This photo shoot is something I really want to do, but I still have mixed feelings about it. Who wants to see pictures of us anyway? We're no longer cute newlyweds, and we don't have an adorable child to show off. I sometimes doubt that the two of us count as a family. And that's why I need the pictures--to prove that we ARE a family and we ARE valuable and worthwhile as people, even though we don't have children here on earth.
Also, I got a a veritable SHEAF of 40% off coupons to the fabric store in yesterdays paper, so I went hog-wild. I'm making a shower curtain for the bathroom-in-progress and also a dress to wear to the Renaissance Festival in a couple of weeks. I might not be able to complete it in time, but I thought I would give it a shot. I just finished reorganizing my office. I took out the daybed, moved my desk, added a bookshelf, and now I have room for an actual sewing table. It's so exciting! Now I don't have to dig my sewing machine out of the basement every time I want to use it, the process of which often makes me reconsider my desire to use the dang thing.
My third project is to focus on getting more sleep. Not just more, but more regular. I go to bed way too late during the week, oversleep, then go through the next day groggy and frazzled. Then I sleep 10-11 hours on the weekends. Apparently this isn't healthy.
Last night was kind of a bust though. I went to bed at 10pm, which was amazing! N, always the supportive husband, went to bed at the same time. Then he woke up very early and couldn't go back to sleep, and then his "getting ready for the day" routine at 4:00am woke me up. I was able to go back to sleep finally, but I slept kind of fitfully and then overslept. We might have to work on this a little bit more.
The first is...a family portrait!
No one in our circle of friends is a picture-taker, so there are very few pictures of N and I together. Or separately, for that matter. Anyway, I have decided to shell out the cash to have a professional photographer take pictures of us, so I am in the midst of deciding on locations and props and trying to remember how to put on makeup. Yesterday afternoon I actually found myself watching a video tutorial on the internet on how to do my curly hair--made by a college student! I was complaining to N, "How can eighteen-year-olds be so good at this stuff! It's absolutely ridiculous! They've only been on earth for eighteen years and their mom probably did their hair for half of that! How is that enough time to be an expert?"
To which N replied, "Well, you can get really good at anything if its all you do for five or six years." Right. Good point.
Well, I missed that stage in my development, and I am now reduced to asking teenagers for help. Blarg.
Anyway, we're going to give prints of the resultant pictures to our parents, grandparents, and aunts and uncles, so it is like hitting a bazillion birds with one stone!
This photo shoot is something I really want to do, but I still have mixed feelings about it. Who wants to see pictures of us anyway? We're no longer cute newlyweds, and we don't have an adorable child to show off. I sometimes doubt that the two of us count as a family. And that's why I need the pictures--to prove that we ARE a family and we ARE valuable and worthwhile as people, even though we don't have children here on earth.
Also, I got a a veritable SHEAF of 40% off coupons to the fabric store in yesterdays paper, so I went hog-wild. I'm making a shower curtain for the bathroom-in-progress and also a dress to wear to the Renaissance Festival in a couple of weeks. I might not be able to complete it in time, but I thought I would give it a shot. I just finished reorganizing my office. I took out the daybed, moved my desk, added a bookshelf, and now I have room for an actual sewing table. It's so exciting! Now I don't have to dig my sewing machine out of the basement every time I want to use it, the process of which often makes me reconsider my desire to use the dang thing.
My third project is to focus on getting more sleep. Not just more, but more regular. I go to bed way too late during the week, oversleep, then go through the next day groggy and frazzled. Then I sleep 10-11 hours on the weekends. Apparently this isn't healthy.
Last night was kind of a bust though. I went to bed at 10pm, which was amazing! N, always the supportive husband, went to bed at the same time. Then he woke up very early and couldn't go back to sleep, and then his "getting ready for the day" routine at 4:00am woke me up. I was able to go back to sleep finally, but I slept kind of fitfully and then overslept. We might have to work on this a little bit more.
Friday, September 17, 2010
7 Quick Takes Friday Vol. 7
1. Last night N and I babysat for a couple so they could go out for their anniversary. They have a two-year-old and a three month old. I was really nervous at first because unlike most of the other children that go to our church, I didn't bond with the two-year-old when he was a baby and he always seemed very nervous around me. Anyway, N has no experience with toddlers but, thanks to all the time we spend with Godson, he is very good at holding babies. So he held the baby all evening and I played with the toddler, and everything went swimmingly. Whew.
2. I have to take my poor kitty Morwen to the vet this afternoon for her annual checkup. It's been more than a year, but she hates going in the car so much that I have been putting it off to save us both the misery. But, you gotta do what you gotta do.
3. Annual reviews are coming up at work. I've had such a hard year personally, and I know it has been spilling over into my work. I didn't fulfill a couple of my goals from last year. I'm just going to focus on how determined I am to do better next year.
4. I've just started to read my first Agatha Christie novel, and I am really liking it!
5. I took the week off from running. I was just so burned out that I was thinking of quitting all together, but decided to defer the decision until Monday. Training for a half-marathon was just taking up too much time and I was starting to stress about it, which is something that I just don't need right now. If I do take it up again, it will be on a strictly for-fun basis.
6. N has started to lay tile in our second bathroom. After that, we are going to install the sink! When we bought the house almost three years ago that bathroom was a complete nightmare, and it didn't have a sink for some reason, just the hookups sticking out of the wall. I can't even say how gratifying it will be to have a toilet, a shower, AND a sink down there!
7. Tonight is bridge night with our good friends Mr. and Mrs. E. They have been practicing. We haven't. *Gulp*
Thursday, September 16, 2010
10 Suprising Things About Me
1. I've written three novels. I have no immediate plans to try to get published because I still want to learn so much more about people and how the world works so I can put all of that into my writing.
2. In a show of youthful rebellion, I got three piercings between the ages of eighteen and twenty, two in the cartilege of my left ear and one in my belly button. I don't wear any jewelry in those piercings now, though. I especially don't miss the belly-button ring. It was just uncomfortable.
3. When I was a teenager, my parents gave me a hand-me-down 1987 station wagon to drive. While it was free (the gas was too, God bless them), it had a bad starter that was too expensive to fix, so my auto mechanic uncle showed me how to hot wire it. Not the cool way that you see in movies by connecting two wires under the steering column. I had to put the key in the ignition to turn on the battery, then pop the hood and connect two parts of the engine with a piece of insulated wire. Presto! I had to go around town hot wiring my own car for more than a year.
4. When I was studying abroad in Mexico I ordered a hamburger that came with a side of crickets. I totally ate a few of them.
5. I once took up smoking to impress a boy. Thankfully I gave up on him before I became addicted!
6. My first job was as a cleaning lady/errand runner for homebound senior citizens. It paid very well and most of the clients were real sweethearts, but some did the crazy white-glove-to-check-for-dust routine.
7. I can't stand the taste of bananas. Not even when its mixed with other stuff in a smoothie. I can always tell.
8. I love science fiction TV shows and movies (I am an unabashed X-Fi.les fan), but I don't like reading SF novels. I'm still not sure why this is.
9. My front tooth is mostly fake. When I was seven I slipped when climbing out of a friend's pool and knocked half of it clean off. My mom was so mad because it was an adult tooth that had literally JUST grown in. I got it capped for my ninth birthday and it is still holding on.
10. I used to be really bad at managing money. I once got to Italy only to realize by bank account was overdrawn and my parents had to wire me money. Twice. Now I am a total budgeting bad-a$$.
2. In a show of youthful rebellion, I got three piercings between the ages of eighteen and twenty, two in the cartilege of my left ear and one in my belly button. I don't wear any jewelry in those piercings now, though. I especially don't miss the belly-button ring. It was just uncomfortable.
3. When I was a teenager, my parents gave me a hand-me-down 1987 station wagon to drive. While it was free (the gas was too, God bless them), it had a bad starter that was too expensive to fix, so my auto mechanic uncle showed me how to hot wire it. Not the cool way that you see in movies by connecting two wires under the steering column. I had to put the key in the ignition to turn on the battery, then pop the hood and connect two parts of the engine with a piece of insulated wire. Presto! I had to go around town hot wiring my own car for more than a year.
4. When I was studying abroad in Mexico I ordered a hamburger that came with a side of crickets. I totally ate a few of them.
5. I once took up smoking to impress a boy. Thankfully I gave up on him before I became addicted!
6. My first job was as a cleaning lady/errand runner for homebound senior citizens. It paid very well and most of the clients were real sweethearts, but some did the crazy white-glove-to-check-for-dust routine.
7. I can't stand the taste of bananas. Not even when its mixed with other stuff in a smoothie. I can always tell.
8. I love science fiction TV shows and movies (I am an unabashed X-Fi.les fan), but I don't like reading SF novels. I'm still not sure why this is.
9. My front tooth is mostly fake. When I was seven I slipped when climbing out of a friend's pool and knocked half of it clean off. My mom was so mad because it was an adult tooth that had literally JUST grown in. I got it capped for my ninth birthday and it is still holding on.
10. I used to be really bad at managing money. I once got to Italy only to realize by bank account was overdrawn and my parents had to wire me money. Twice. Now I am a total budgeting bad-a$$.
Deadlines
CD1 came yesterday, right on schedule. I'd be lying if I said I was ok, but I'm not NOT ok either. I was weepy at daily Mass and then gave myself a good three-minute cry when I got home, but then life went on and I decided to tag along.
Over the past year - almost year and a half - I have been expecting instant gratification of my wish to be a mother. N doesn't really understand why I NEED to be a mother before I turn 30, or before a certain anniversary, or before the next Christmas. In turn, I don't really understand how he can be so complacent about this. He always tells me, "It will happen when it happens and all we can do is hope and pray." In my head I know he's right, but I still can't wrap my head around it.
I've been thinking about this a lot recently, and I realized that it is a recurring theme in my life. I am driven to be the first at everything. I took the ACTs when I was fifteen, then graduated from high school and went to college a year early. I was the first among my group of friends to get married, then the first to buy a house.
And now that everyone else has children, I can't accept the fact that I am the one being left behind.
Why am I in such a rush? People have always asked me that, but this is the first time I have asked myself. Why can't I just let things happen as they will, instead of (sometimes futilely) trying to force them to happen my way?
It bears more prayer and meditation. I'll get right on that.
On a more chipper note, over the weekend N and I went to an Irish festival that was in town and we had an absolute blast! Among other things, we got to meet several Irish Wol.fhounds and chat with their owners. They were the sweetest, most chill dogs I have ever met. Even with music blasting from speakers, people shouting, and five little kids petting them at once, they were patently unperturbed. We are even more convinced now that we want one!
Over the past year - almost year and a half - I have been expecting instant gratification of my wish to be a mother. N doesn't really understand why I NEED to be a mother before I turn 30, or before a certain anniversary, or before the next Christmas. In turn, I don't really understand how he can be so complacent about this. He always tells me, "It will happen when it happens and all we can do is hope and pray." In my head I know he's right, but I still can't wrap my head around it.
I've been thinking about this a lot recently, and I realized that it is a recurring theme in my life. I am driven to be the first at everything. I took the ACTs when I was fifteen, then graduated from high school and went to college a year early. I was the first among my group of friends to get married, then the first to buy a house.
And now that everyone else has children, I can't accept the fact that I am the one being left behind.
Why am I in such a rush? People have always asked me that, but this is the first time I have asked myself. Why can't I just let things happen as they will, instead of (sometimes futilely) trying to force them to happen my way?
It bears more prayer and meditation. I'll get right on that.
On a more chipper note, over the weekend N and I went to an Irish festival that was in town and we had an absolute blast! Among other things, we got to meet several Irish Wol.fhounds and chat with their owners. They were the sweetest, most chill dogs I have ever met. Even with music blasting from speakers, people shouting, and five little kids petting them at once, they were patently unperturbed. We are even more convinced now that we want one!
Friday, September 10, 2010
Waiting
It is CD22, and for the last week I have been vacillating between being absolutely 100% positive that I have conceived and being convinced that I have not. Pretty typical thought pattern for this part of my cycle.
I've got no concrete evidence of conception like extra-elevated temps, because I stopped taking my BBT after I had confirmed ovulation. I've found that this makes me a lot less stressed. I have been wiped out and ravenous lately, but this is most likely due to all the extra running I've been doing (I have to run 6 miles tomorrow; yikes!).
I've got two kinds of waiting to contend with. Currently the open-ended waiting of trying to conceive. Part of what makes it so frustrating is that it could happen this cycle or 10 cycles from now or possibly never.
If I do conceive again, I will then have to wait and see if the child lives beyond the first trimester. Even though this wait has a finite time period, it is so much worse because the child is no longer just an idea, a hope; it will be a living person that I love and want to keep for myself. Instead of waiting for something good to happen, I'll be waiting for something bad to happen.
Can you tell that I'm a pessimist?
N is of the opinion that we have "used up" all of our bad luck and therefor the next pregnancy will be healthy, but I just can't wrap my head around that. I don't like the idea of chalking miscarriages up to bad luck; that's what people always do when they don't understand why something happened. Just because the doctors couldn't find the cause doesn't mean there wasn't one.
In five short days I will know what kind of waiting I'm in for, more of the same or waiting of a more scary, yet exciting type. I kind of wish I could just go to bed and sleep for a week and then wake up and know the answer. But then I guess I wouldn't have the opportunity to develop patience and trust.
I've got no concrete evidence of conception like extra-elevated temps, because I stopped taking my BBT after I had confirmed ovulation. I've found that this makes me a lot less stressed. I have been wiped out and ravenous lately, but this is most likely due to all the extra running I've been doing (I have to run 6 miles tomorrow; yikes!).
I've got two kinds of waiting to contend with. Currently the open-ended waiting of trying to conceive. Part of what makes it so frustrating is that it could happen this cycle or 10 cycles from now or possibly never.
If I do conceive again, I will then have to wait and see if the child lives beyond the first trimester. Even though this wait has a finite time period, it is so much worse because the child is no longer just an idea, a hope; it will be a living person that I love and want to keep for myself. Instead of waiting for something good to happen, I'll be waiting for something bad to happen.
Can you tell that I'm a pessimist?
N is of the opinion that we have "used up" all of our bad luck and therefor the next pregnancy will be healthy, but I just can't wrap my head around that. I don't like the idea of chalking miscarriages up to bad luck; that's what people always do when they don't understand why something happened. Just because the doctors couldn't find the cause doesn't mean there wasn't one.
In five short days I will know what kind of waiting I'm in for, more of the same or waiting of a more scary, yet exciting type. I kind of wish I could just go to bed and sleep for a week and then wake up and know the answer. But then I guess I wouldn't have the opportunity to develop patience and trust.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Fitting God into My Schedule
I know that's not how it should be.
One of the things I don't like about my field is that, even with a Master's degree, I still have an irregular schedule that includes some nights and weekends.
Right now, there isn't a convenient way for me to get to daily mass. The churches close to home don't have Mass at a time that would enable me to get to work on time. There is a church nearish my work, but they only have a lunchtime Mass, but with the travel time it takes longer than my allotted half-hour. There is one day every two weeks when I start work late and could make it to St. Catherine's about a quarter-mile from my house, but I have been horrible about using this day.
Then there's adoration. I am lucky enough to live near an Oratory which is blessed with perpetual adoration, and I've had an hour for about two years.
One of the few consistencies in my schedule is that I start work at 11:15am on Wednesday mornings, so I take the 10:00am adoration hour. Unfortunately I can't make it to work in 15 minutes, so I usually have to leave five or ten minutes early. Thank goodness I have a more dedicated adoration hour buddy!
But now I can't even do that anymore because starting this month I have to attend a work meeting at 9:00am one Wednesday a month.
I've decided to view this as a wake-up call. No more being a Catholic of Convenience! I'm turning over a new leaf. I'm going to have to give up sleep in the morning or socializing in the evening, but that's ok because it means I am spending quality time with my savior.
That being said, I had a hard time focusing on Mass today because I was holding a sleeping Godson. I was so distracted by his cuteness that the liturgy was in one ear out the other. How do parents do it?
One of the things I don't like about my field is that, even with a Master's degree, I still have an irregular schedule that includes some nights and weekends.
Right now, there isn't a convenient way for me to get to daily mass. The churches close to home don't have Mass at a time that would enable me to get to work on time. There is a church nearish my work, but they only have a lunchtime Mass, but with the travel time it takes longer than my allotted half-hour. There is one day every two weeks when I start work late and could make it to St. Catherine's about a quarter-mile from my house, but I have been horrible about using this day.
Then there's adoration. I am lucky enough to live near an Oratory which is blessed with perpetual adoration, and I've had an hour for about two years.
One of the few consistencies in my schedule is that I start work at 11:15am on Wednesday mornings, so I take the 10:00am adoration hour. Unfortunately I can't make it to work in 15 minutes, so I usually have to leave five or ten minutes early. Thank goodness I have a more dedicated adoration hour buddy!
But now I can't even do that anymore because starting this month I have to attend a work meeting at 9:00am one Wednesday a month.
I've decided to view this as a wake-up call. No more being a Catholic of Convenience! I'm turning over a new leaf. I'm going to have to give up sleep in the morning or socializing in the evening, but that's ok because it means I am spending quality time with my savior.
That being said, I had a hard time focusing on Mass today because I was holding a sleeping Godson. I was so distracted by his cuteness that the liturgy was in one ear out the other. How do parents do it?
Friday, September 3, 2010
7 Quick Takes Friday Vol. 6
1. Today is the day that we pay off the car--over two years early! The next phase of the plan is doubling our emergency fund so we have six months of expenses saved up for a rainy day. After THAT (roughly April 2011), then we can start saving for our Enormous Dog Transport Device, aka a minivan.2. Now that the car is paid off, our new financial plan involves giving to charities on a regular basis. We're not tithing yet--not by a long shot. The amount we decided on is only about 2.5% of our take home pay, but it's a start.
3. School started yesterday. It was so weird and peaceful in the library, and I got so much done.
4. It's my day off today, and I completely forgot to go to daily Mass. I've got to stop doing that.
5. N and I are bound and determined to have a date night this month. We haven't gone out to dinner since February. Indian food, here we come!
6. I have to work on Saturday, but other than that our Labor Day plans include visiting Godson and family tomorrow evening, picnic for N's department at the University on Sunday, and cookout with my in-laws on Monday. Busy busy.
7. Have a wonderful, blessed weekend everyone!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
It's Only Tuesday
I've got the mid-cycle munchies.
I swear I'm not making this up. It's really a thing. Since I started charting I have begun to notice a lot of patterns, and one of them is being ravenously hungry around ovulation. Apparently, building up the endometrium and the process of ovulating burns a lot of calories, hence the unprecedented hunger. The things they don't tell you in biology class!
This is great news for two reasons. The first is that I haven't had this particular hunger in a while. So in my seventh cycle after the last miscarriage, I am finally starting to feel fertile again. Even if I don't conceive, it's great to know that its possible.
Also, it is only CD13. I've had fertile CM and other signs of impending ovulation since CD9. So early for me! Usually my body hems and haws about it for almost three weeks before finally getting down to business. Dare I expect ovulation to be on time this cycle?
In other news, I have started to train for a half-marathon. A full marathon seems ridiculous to me, but I could totally run 13 miles. I think. I've run that far before when I was a teenager. Maybe I could do it again?
The only thing is that I'm not sure how this will impact my fertility. How much training is too much?
Since I started running I have been careful not to lose any weight. When I was 20 I got mono which went undiagnosed because my doctor was a complete moron. My spleen was enlarged, which pushed on my stomach, which hurt like heck and I didn't want eat for six months. I lost a lot of weight that I never gained back, so my BMI is still at about 20. I'm really not comfortable losing any more. Anyway, I "make myself" eat a bowl of ice cream every night. Darn!
Given that I stay at a healthy weight, will this training program still affect my fertility? Doctor Google isn't very clear on what constitutes "excessive" exercise. Hmmm. Maybe I will back it off a bit.
I swear I'm not making this up. It's really a thing. Since I started charting I have begun to notice a lot of patterns, and one of them is being ravenously hungry around ovulation. Apparently, building up the endometrium and the process of ovulating burns a lot of calories, hence the unprecedented hunger. The things they don't tell you in biology class!
This is great news for two reasons. The first is that I haven't had this particular hunger in a while. So in my seventh cycle after the last miscarriage, I am finally starting to feel fertile again. Even if I don't conceive, it's great to know that its possible.
Also, it is only CD13. I've had fertile CM and other signs of impending ovulation since CD9. So early for me! Usually my body hems and haws about it for almost three weeks before finally getting down to business. Dare I expect ovulation to be on time this cycle?
In other news, I have started to train for a half-marathon. A full marathon seems ridiculous to me, but I could totally run 13 miles. I think. I've run that far before when I was a teenager. Maybe I could do it again?
The only thing is that I'm not sure how this will impact my fertility. How much training is too much?
Since I started running I have been careful not to lose any weight. When I was 20 I got mono which went undiagnosed because my doctor was a complete moron. My spleen was enlarged, which pushed on my stomach, which hurt like heck and I didn't want eat for six months. I lost a lot of weight that I never gained back, so my BMI is still at about 20. I'm really not comfortable losing any more. Anyway, I "make myself" eat a bowl of ice cream every night. Darn!
Given that I stay at a healthy weight, will this training program still affect my fertility? Doctor Google isn't very clear on what constitutes "excessive" exercise. Hmmm. Maybe I will back it off a bit.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Dog Days
I didn't have many pets growing up. We had a cat and a dog that both died before I was eight, and we never replaced them. I raised a Leader Dog Puppy as a homeschool project the year I was twelve, but there my experience ended. I love animals, but my parents were always pet blocking me. They said, "When you are grown up and living in your own place, you can have as many pets as you want!"
So when I did get a place of my own away from my family, I went absolutely WILD.
We got Rousseau a few months after we got married.
Don't let her sour face fool you; getting into that box was her own idea. She loves getting into boxes of all sizes, and more the better if she gets to defy physics while doing it. That girl weighs sixteen pounds! For any Lost fans out there, we named her Rousseau because when we first adopted her from the shelter she tended to skulk around a lot and pop out when we least expected her. She also constantly has this look on her face like she is plotting to electrocute someone on bed springs:)
Then two years ago we got Morwen.
Morwen is named after a character in a children's book series called Dea.ling with Dragons. Its a hoot and a half, if you're into that kind of thing. As you may have noticed, she doesn't have a tail. Apparently she is a Manx cat, which is a breed that is born without one. Morwen doesn't seem to miss her tail, but she is absolutely FASCINATED with Rousseau's.
The kitties and their interactions with each other offer endless entertainment. They are good cats and we love them to pieces, but being cats the feeling is not mutual. We've been longing for a more affectionate pet! A dog is the natural conclusion.
But I don't want just any dog, I want this dog.
After a lot of research, I have come to the conclusion that an Irish Wol.fhound would be the best breed for us. For one thing they are famous for loving children. They're gentle, non-confrontational, easygoing, loyal, and Irish. Just like me, really:)
The only thing is that these dogs are positively enormous. We're talking 150-180 lbs. The kind of dog that needs an entire couch to himself. As one of the books I read said, "If he's standing in front of the TV he will block it. He will also block the remote".
The last few months I have been trying to subtly sell N on the idea, like casually saying, "Did you know that Wolfhounds (name benefit of owning one here)?" or leaving the breed handbook lying around on the coffee table.
Surprisingly, he has totally gone for it!
But of course a couple of things have to happen first.
1. Pay off the car (so close now!) and save some dough so we can buy a minivan, because a dog that size isn't going to fit in our station wagon. This was kind of in the plan anyway for when/if we have kids.
2. Buy our forever home, which will have a big fenced yard and hopefully be close the park with an off leash dog area.
3. Have a change in salary that will free up about $150 a month for dog expenses, as big dogs eat a lot and need more medicine.
It is incredibly motivating for both N and me, and is definitely helping me to keep my mind off of babies.
There just so happens to be a breeder about an hour and a half from us; we're planning on visiting one of these weekends so we can actually meet some of these dogs in person.
I'm fairly positive that Morwen, being completely bonkers, will love a dog to play with. Rousseau will probably skulk around for a while before finally deciding to ignore the new addition. At least, that's how I'm hoping its gonna go.
So when I did get a place of my own away from my family, I went absolutely WILD.
We got Rousseau a few months after we got married.
Don't let her sour face fool you; getting into that box was her own idea. She loves getting into boxes of all sizes, and more the better if she gets to defy physics while doing it. That girl weighs sixteen pounds! For any Lost fans out there, we named her Rousseau because when we first adopted her from the shelter she tended to skulk around a lot and pop out when we least expected her. She also constantly has this look on her face like she is plotting to electrocute someone on bed springs:)Then two years ago we got Morwen.
Morwen is named after a character in a children's book series called Dea.ling with Dragons. Its a hoot and a half, if you're into that kind of thing. As you may have noticed, she doesn't have a tail. Apparently she is a Manx cat, which is a breed that is born without one. Morwen doesn't seem to miss her tail, but she is absolutely FASCINATED with Rousseau's.
The kitties and their interactions with each other offer endless entertainment. They are good cats and we love them to pieces, but being cats the feeling is not mutual. We've been longing for a more affectionate pet! A dog is the natural conclusion.
But I don't want just any dog, I want this dog.
After a lot of research, I have come to the conclusion that an Irish Wol.fhound would be the best breed for us. For one thing they are famous for loving children. They're gentle, non-confrontational, easygoing, loyal, and Irish. Just like me, really:)The only thing is that these dogs are positively enormous. We're talking 150-180 lbs. The kind of dog that needs an entire couch to himself. As one of the books I read said, "If he's standing in front of the TV he will block it. He will also block the remote".
The last few months I have been trying to subtly sell N on the idea, like casually saying, "Did you know that Wolfhounds (name benefit of owning one here)?" or leaving the breed handbook lying around on the coffee table.
Surprisingly, he has totally gone for it!
But of course a couple of things have to happen first.
1. Pay off the car (so close now!) and save some dough so we can buy a minivan, because a dog that size isn't going to fit in our station wagon. This was kind of in the plan anyway for when/if we have kids.
2. Buy our forever home, which will have a big fenced yard and hopefully be close the park with an off leash dog area.
3. Have a change in salary that will free up about $150 a month for dog expenses, as big dogs eat a lot and need more medicine.
It is incredibly motivating for both N and me, and is definitely helping me to keep my mind off of babies.
There just so happens to be a breeder about an hour and a half from us; we're planning on visiting one of these weekends so we can actually meet some of these dogs in person.
I'm fairly positive that Morwen, being completely bonkers, will love a dog to play with. Rousseau will probably skulk around for a while before finally deciding to ignore the new addition. At least, that's how I'm hoping its gonna go.
Friday, August 27, 2010
7 Quick Takes Friday (Saturday) Vol. 5
1. I am really dehydrated right now. Apparently there was an algae bloom in the river that supplies the city's drinking water, so it has this really musty scent and taste. The water company swears it isn't dangerous to drink, but I just can't stand it.2. The house next door went up for sale a couple of days ago. Now I really am thankful that N didn't get that job; it would have been terrible to try to sell our place with the competition.
3. I spontaneously decided to make dinner, and I had to google "How to cook a chicken breast". It's a sad sad situation, folks.
4. N came home a bit ago and told me that the house next door has already sold. That's encouraging!
5. Don't you hate it when you are running on the treadmill, minding your own business, and a spider comes down right in front of your face? Yeah, I hate that too. I almost fell off the treadmill this morning!
6. The dinner turned out ok, It was a casserole with brown rice, artichokes, chicken, spinach, and zucchini from the Pion.eer Woman's website.
7. oh dear. there is a cat on my keyboard.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
My job
I'm a children's librarian at a public library. Its kind of weird how I got into this field.
I was a police cadet for five years in my late teens and early twenties. When I met N, I was a junior in college and still wasn't sure what I really wanted to do, but I was operating under the assumption that I would be a police officer because that's really all I knew. N didn't exactly relish the idea of me being in harm's way for a living, and so I sat down one day and thought and thought about it.
What I came up with was librarian. What bookworm doesn't secretly want to be a librarian? It required a master's degree, and it turned out there was a good program at the same school where N had just started his PhD.
So I got a master's degree. I kind of wanted to be an archivist, because I love books AND history, but the problem with that is that there aren't many archivist jobs about. So after I finished my degree I took the first job that came my way, in a public library. And I've been stuck in them ever since.
I love libraries. I love books. I love children. So what's the problem? I have consistently worked in libraries in "bad" neighborhoods. I've been called names and threatened with violence. I'm blatantly lied to every day. Drug addicts shoot up in the restrooms. Patrons destroy library materials and property for fun. Worst of all, I have witnessed everything from bad parenting to outright abuse and neglect.
Its a bad business to be in when you desperately want children. It is so hard to see parents who have no problem procreating but don't treat the resultant children as the gifts they are. It hurts to see the children grow hardened and mean right before my eyes. And sometimes I get very discouraged when all of my hard work doesn't seem to change their lives for the better. In fact, I feel that it is the exact opposite. I am letting my job make me a worse person.
As a Christian I should treat them with love and respect even when they treat me and each other badly. Lately I have been finding this extremely difficult, but I am determined to do better. I have a tendency to lose heart and give up; I've got to start focusing on the small successes! And love, always love.
Starting next week:)
I was a police cadet for five years in my late teens and early twenties. When I met N, I was a junior in college and still wasn't sure what I really wanted to do, but I was operating under the assumption that I would be a police officer because that's really all I knew. N didn't exactly relish the idea of me being in harm's way for a living, and so I sat down one day and thought and thought about it.
What I came up with was librarian. What bookworm doesn't secretly want to be a librarian? It required a master's degree, and it turned out there was a good program at the same school where N had just started his PhD.
So I got a master's degree. I kind of wanted to be an archivist, because I love books AND history, but the problem with that is that there aren't many archivist jobs about. So after I finished my degree I took the first job that came my way, in a public library. And I've been stuck in them ever since.
I love libraries. I love books. I love children. So what's the problem? I have consistently worked in libraries in "bad" neighborhoods. I've been called names and threatened with violence. I'm blatantly lied to every day. Drug addicts shoot up in the restrooms. Patrons destroy library materials and property for fun. Worst of all, I have witnessed everything from bad parenting to outright abuse and neglect.
Its a bad business to be in when you desperately want children. It is so hard to see parents who have no problem procreating but don't treat the resultant children as the gifts they are. It hurts to see the children grow hardened and mean right before my eyes. And sometimes I get very discouraged when all of my hard work doesn't seem to change their lives for the better. In fact, I feel that it is the exact opposite. I am letting my job make me a worse person.
As a Christian I should treat them with love and respect even when they treat me and each other badly. Lately I have been finding this extremely difficult, but I am determined to do better. I have a tendency to lose heart and give up; I've got to start focusing on the small successes! And love, always love.
Starting next week:)
Friday, August 20, 2010
7 Quick Takes Friday Vol. 4
1. Today was my day off. Since I'm still trying to get back into the swing of things after vacation, my to-do list was enormous. It took all day, but the grass it cut, the weeds are wacked, the laundry is done, the bathroom is clean, the baseboards are spackled, my clutter is posted on free.cycle, and my office is rearranged. Whew.
2. When I was working in the yard I couldn't help but notice how fall-y it is starting to look. I can't believe summer is almost over.
3. I made a zucchini quiche for dinner tonight. I must not have squeezed out enough juice from the zucchini, because the quiche was rather...damp. But other than that it was good.
4. For dinner we also had green beans from the garden, the first ones all year. Darn shady back yard!
5. My parents-in-law are coming over tomorrow to help N finish the patio. Too bad I'll be at work all day!
6. As soon as the patio is complete we want to have a big "eat burgers on the new patio" party. It will be so nice to have an attractive yard again, as opposed to a big gaping hole.
7. I've wasted the last hour of the day trying to fix my stupid mp3 player.
God Tested Me
It was my goal to get through CD1 without crying. I knew it was coming, and I was ok with it, thanks in the most part to St. Gianna. When my period showed up yesterday morning, I accepted it more gracefully than I had in a while. I even had a mildly positive outlook on this brand-new cycle.
After work N and I went to Mr. and Mrs. E's house to play bridge. We met them at the Easter Vigil Mass many years ago when Mrs. E was behind N in line to be welcomed into the Church, and we have been good friends ever since. They have a beautiful 1-year-old daughter who I simply adore.
And it turns out that Mrs. E is expecting again. I am just over the moon for them! And at the same time, so very, very sorry for myself. The news, though happy, emphasized how long I have been waiting. In the time it took me to lose two children, she gave birth to one and is almost into her second trimester with another. It also made me feel that I will never be as happy as Mrs. E, who has no reason to expect anything but life. I feel like my life, tainted by sorrow and loss, will never be as beautiful as hers.
I made it all the way through bridge night. I even made it home (though I indulged in petty thoughts like, "Very funny, God"). I made it to 10:46pm without crying. So close. Now it is back to the drawing board.
I have to shake off these self-defeating thoughts. I have to stop living in the past and thinking about what could have been. This is the life God gave me, and he gave it to me for a reason. No matter what my trials, this life is a gift.
Today I am moving forward.
After work N and I went to Mr. and Mrs. E's house to play bridge. We met them at the Easter Vigil Mass many years ago when Mrs. E was behind N in line to be welcomed into the Church, and we have been good friends ever since. They have a beautiful 1-year-old daughter who I simply adore.
And it turns out that Mrs. E is expecting again. I am just over the moon for them! And at the same time, so very, very sorry for myself. The news, though happy, emphasized how long I have been waiting. In the time it took me to lose two children, she gave birth to one and is almost into her second trimester with another. It also made me feel that I will never be as happy as Mrs. E, who has no reason to expect anything but life. I feel like my life, tainted by sorrow and loss, will never be as beautiful as hers.
I made it all the way through bridge night. I even made it home (though I indulged in petty thoughts like, "Very funny, God"). I made it to 10:46pm without crying. So close. Now it is back to the drawing board.
I have to shake off these self-defeating thoughts. I have to stop living in the past and thinking about what could have been. This is the life God gave me, and he gave it to me for a reason. No matter what my trials, this life is a gift.
Today I am moving forward.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Staying
Yesterday we found out that N had been rejected for a job that he had his heart set on. We had all of our eggs in that basket, and now it's back to the drawing board. I feel bad for N's disappointment, but I'm not too torn up about it myself.
It was a good job with a good salary and a good pension. Other than that I wasn't really in love with it.
First, I had some issues with the employer. Also, we would have to move 250 miles away. But I love THIS city. I think of it as my hometown, even though I moved here only four and half years ago. I love my friends and our church and our home. I really don't want to leave, ever. Plus it would have put us even further away from our families than we already are--not a happy prospect.
The more selfish reason that I am thankful we are staying is because if God does bless me with a healthy pregnancy one day, I want to do it here where my friends can support me, dote on me, and lend me their maternity clothes.
An even MORE selfish reason is this: Before N's change of heart, the plan was to have children when he was gainfully employed and we were settled in our forever home; that's what this job would have given us. It's hard to explain, but I just couldn't stand the thought that this year of suffering and loss might have been for nothing.
The likelihood of N finding a job around here is slim, but I remain hopeful. And if we do eventually have to leave, it is now in the distant rather than immediate future. I still have time.
The downfall is that I remain the primary bacon bringer. I was sort of looking forward to be a stay-at-home-wife and someday mother. Ah well.
It was a good job with a good salary and a good pension. Other than that I wasn't really in love with it.
First, I had some issues with the employer. Also, we would have to move 250 miles away. But I love THIS city. I think of it as my hometown, even though I moved here only four and half years ago. I love my friends and our church and our home. I really don't want to leave, ever. Plus it would have put us even further away from our families than we already are--not a happy prospect.
The more selfish reason that I am thankful we are staying is because if God does bless me with a healthy pregnancy one day, I want to do it here where my friends can support me, dote on me, and lend me their maternity clothes.
An even MORE selfish reason is this: Before N's change of heart, the plan was to have children when he was gainfully employed and we were settled in our forever home; that's what this job would have given us. It's hard to explain, but I just couldn't stand the thought that this year of suffering and loss might have been for nothing.
The likelihood of N finding a job around here is slim, but I remain hopeful. And if we do eventually have to leave, it is now in the distant rather than immediate future. I still have time.
The downfall is that I remain the primary bacon bringer. I was sort of looking forward to be a stay-at-home-wife and someday mother. Ah well.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Lily
In January 2010 it had been six months since the last miscarriage, and I was beginning to lose hope. I had given up on that particular cycle because N was going to be out of town during my fertile days. I began to pray, “God, please just give me a normal cycle, so I will know that it is possible.” Even though I was praying that specific prayer, I was shocked when I ovulated on CD14. That had never never never happened for as long as I had been charting.
I was even more shocked when my temperature stayed elevated for seventeen days past ovulation, and I was ecstatic with joy when the pregnancy test was positive. And I had such a positive outlook on the pregnancy—why would God go through the trouble if he didn’t mean for me to keep it?
In my fifth week I went to my GP for bloodwork. I really wanted to having doubling HcG so I could relax and enjoy being pregnant. My first set of numbers was excellent—2903 at five weeks and three days. The second blood draw was on a Thursday, so I had to make it through the weekend before getting the results.
On Friday, February 5th there was a snowstorm for the history books. The city shut down. Our power went out, so we had no electricity and no heat. N ad I had fun “roughing it” for the first couple of days, and finally our utilities were working again on Sunday evening, just in time for the Superbowl. Then that night while I was lying in bed trying to go to sleep, I realized that my breasts had stopped hurting, and fear descended. I knew something was horribly wrong. I was exactly six weeks at that point.
The doctor herself called me late the next morning. Just the fact that it was the doctor calling and not a nurse confirmed what I feared. I don’t remember the specific number, but it was in the 3000’s. I didn’t really hear what she said after that. All I could think was, “It’s over”.
The city remained shut down for the rest of the week. My work was closed. And I was confined to the house, waiting for my baby to die. I can’t even articulate the horror I felt.
One day that week Older Sister called me and, knowing we had been snowed in for the better part of a week, she jokingly asked me if I was pregnant yet. I danced around the subject for a while, but in the end I couldn’t lie. Yes, I was pregnant. But I wouldn’t be for long.
Days past without any bleeding or cramps, and I began to think that maybe the doctor had been wrong; maybe my baby was still alive.
But the next Sunday, when I was seven weeks, I started to spot brown blood. I went to work that Monday, but I was plagued by a feeling of malaise and ended up going home a few hours early. I called off sick the next morning, February 16. The bleeding had not picked up but the cramps were so intense that I could barely get out of bed.
The ordeal lasted nine hours. Thinking back on it now sends me into a mindless panic. The cramps came and went like contractions, and it felt as though my womb was being ground between two stones. When I was contracting the pain was so bad that I couldn’t see or think or talk. I still wasn’t bleeding very much, and I began to question my decision to miscarry at home. I began to think I might really die.
Then, late in the evening I started bleeding very heavily, and soon after the child left my body. I was empty once again.
I don’t have happy memories of that pregnancy like I do of my first. I know I was happy at the beginning, but those feelings are obscured by the isolation, terror, and pain that I felt later. When people refer to that snowstorm it makes me feel panicky and I come close to tears. I hate the month of February. I hate the number sixteen. I hate snow. That pregnancy and miscarriage changed me; I struggle with it every single day.
And I think the reason I have struggled with it so much is because I didn't allow anyone to help me bear it. To this day, Older Sister is the only one who knows about my Lily.
It was six months ago today.
I was even more shocked when my temperature stayed elevated for seventeen days past ovulation, and I was ecstatic with joy when the pregnancy test was positive. And I had such a positive outlook on the pregnancy—why would God go through the trouble if he didn’t mean for me to keep it?
In my fifth week I went to my GP for bloodwork. I really wanted to having doubling HcG so I could relax and enjoy being pregnant. My first set of numbers was excellent—2903 at five weeks and three days. The second blood draw was on a Thursday, so I had to make it through the weekend before getting the results.
On Friday, February 5th there was a snowstorm for the history books. The city shut down. Our power went out, so we had no electricity and no heat. N ad I had fun “roughing it” for the first couple of days, and finally our utilities were working again on Sunday evening, just in time for the Superbowl. Then that night while I was lying in bed trying to go to sleep, I realized that my breasts had stopped hurting, and fear descended. I knew something was horribly wrong. I was exactly six weeks at that point.
The doctor herself called me late the next morning. Just the fact that it was the doctor calling and not a nurse confirmed what I feared. I don’t remember the specific number, but it was in the 3000’s. I didn’t really hear what she said after that. All I could think was, “It’s over”.
The city remained shut down for the rest of the week. My work was closed. And I was confined to the house, waiting for my baby to die. I can’t even articulate the horror I felt.
One day that week Older Sister called me and, knowing we had been snowed in for the better part of a week, she jokingly asked me if I was pregnant yet. I danced around the subject for a while, but in the end I couldn’t lie. Yes, I was pregnant. But I wouldn’t be for long.
Days past without any bleeding or cramps, and I began to think that maybe the doctor had been wrong; maybe my baby was still alive.
But the next Sunday, when I was seven weeks, I started to spot brown blood. I went to work that Monday, but I was plagued by a feeling of malaise and ended up going home a few hours early. I called off sick the next morning, February 16. The bleeding had not picked up but the cramps were so intense that I could barely get out of bed.
The ordeal lasted nine hours. Thinking back on it now sends me into a mindless panic. The cramps came and went like contractions, and it felt as though my womb was being ground between two stones. When I was contracting the pain was so bad that I couldn’t see or think or talk. I still wasn’t bleeding very much, and I began to question my decision to miscarry at home. I began to think I might really die.
Then, late in the evening I started bleeding very heavily, and soon after the child left my body. I was empty once again.
I don’t have happy memories of that pregnancy like I do of my first. I know I was happy at the beginning, but those feelings are obscured by the isolation, terror, and pain that I felt later. When people refer to that snowstorm it makes me feel panicky and I come close to tears. I hate the month of February. I hate the number sixteen. I hate snow. That pregnancy and miscarriage changed me; I struggle with it every single day.
And I think the reason I have struggled with it so much is because I didn't allow anyone to help me bear it. To this day, Older Sister is the only one who knows about my Lily.
It was six months ago today.
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