In Case You've Lost Count

No News

We've gotten several emails and phone calls about where we are in Baby S's arrival. We are thrilled to hear from everyone!

We don't have any news yet.

Sheila is uncomfortable and seems to be getting bigger by the day. She swears that her nose is going to swell past the size of her face.

We are just taking it easy and making her run around the block every hour on the hour. J/K

Aptly Put

I saw this on a pregnancy message board. It was the title of the strand:

"If my gas gets any worse I might actually asphyxiate myself."

Week 37

from The Bump

"The baby is now FULL-TERM!"

This is the first thing that my OB said to me when he walked into the examination room. He then added, "It must be because you have an EXCELLENT doctor!" He cracks me up.

We are all thrilled to be here. It took effort from lots of people, and I feel very blessed.

I am experiencing painful contractions, compliments of my irritable uterus. I haven't moved from 1 cm in two weeks. So, as I am not on the medication now, we'll see how the next week goes.

Today was VERY liberating as now I can walk, pick things up, move around, carry Everett, all without fear that it will result in pre-term labor. I feel so FREE!

As my OB was leaving the examination room this morning, he turns to me and says,"I'm a little sad. You won't be coming much longer, and I always have a good laugh during our visits."

It is true. I am a delight. He is also a very good doctor.

Dear Irritable Uterus,

Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop! That is, unless the contractions are actually opening the cervix. Absolutely no more temper tantrums! I need some sleep.

Grateful for all the work you've done!

Lovingly,
The Brain

Week 36: The Good and TMI

(TMI stands for Too Much Information, just to clarify--there is a huge age range for the readers of this blog)

We reached 36 weeks! The past 24 hours have been a bit harrowing, but I've been a good girl and was able to stop contractions. The OB says I am 1 cm dilated and have not really effaced at all. So, we could get another week out of my body supporting this baby, which is preferable. (Though I must admit that after all the pain and contracting yesterday, I wanted, just a little bit, for the contractions to be over . . . like because the baby was here.)

I am trying to buck up, ignore my irritable uterus, and pretend that I am athletic after all. I mean, my life may be missing a gold medal only because they just don't have uterus strength competitions in the Olympics. If they did, I'd go for it after all the workouts (ie contractions) I've had with this pregnancy.

Two things that kept running through my mind last night when we thought we were only hours from going to the hospital:

• My happy delivery pictures will include the only pimple I've had in months (why having a pimple on my chin would bother me when I know my face will be swollen to the size of the Great Pumpkin, I don't know).
• My kitchen is dirty (rest assured, it isn't now, and I am contemplating letting a couple trees sacrifice their bodies for paper goods at least so I don't have that panic again).

At this point, I'm finished with what I have to say about week 36. After the cute picture of me in which I would rather be wearing something cute but couldn't muster the energy to change or even strategically pick out an outfit (contractions are draining), I get to the TMI I mentioned earlier--I am focusing on some of the things that happened to me because I carry my babies low for a good portion of the pregnancy.

I carried Everett low; this baby is even lower. Some of the details are pretty uncomfortable for the general audience. I thought long and hard about this, whether I should share--but, some of the things that happened were like, "WWHHAA!!!!!" and there really isn't much information out there. If you are uncomfortable with the word "vagina"----then oo and ahh over the picture below and move on to another link . . . like this one: CJaneRun or think about a sugarless life by taking a look at: SugarShun




Too Much Information

I mean it; some of the following may make you uncomfortable. I use the words labia, vulva, vagina, and rectum. I don't want to hear anyone complaining that they didn't appreciate this post and that I crossed the line of propriety. I gave everyone fair warning.

The following encapsulates many things that I experienced because I carry my babies low, and I didn't hear that others experienced these things. Straight up, a good thing about carrying low is . . . I get no rib kicking. Only late into the pregnancy do the babies shove their feet into my ribs, but the babies are so big by that time that it isn't a jab, and I just place my hand on their feet to push them down a bit. I wonder why I carry low--I don't know if it is me or the baby. I often wonder why the baby doesn't take advantage of my long torso for the flipping and flopping. 'Nuff of that talk, here is what I experienced.

Rectal Kicks--if you are carrying your baby low, there is the chance that you'll feel kicking on the "poop shoot"---or your anus. The first time this happens, you'll feel violated and jump violently out of your seat to see what spring is now popping out of your upholstered chair . . . no worries, it is uncomfortable, disconcerting, but I didn't suffer from any long term effects. (This only happened with my first baby.)

Constipation and Hemorrhoids--yeah, that is a given, just take your OB approved stool softener and don't strain. Having rabbit pellet sized poop is just part of what happens, not preferable, but you will recover.

Bleeding Vaginal Varicose Veins--you read it right. You can get varicose veins in places other than your legs. You might notice more pain in that region--around the vulva, you may notice bleeding (which will freak you out because doesn't everyone freak out when they see blood on a piece of toilet paper while they are pregnant?) The following states it better than I can:

What is treatment of varicose veins of the vulva? --There is no treatment required for vulvar/vaginal varicosities. Once the baby is delivered, the varicosities will subside. In rare instances, there may be a rope-like vein but this will soon disappear with time. http://www.veindirectory.org/content/vaginal-varicose-veins.asp

The best thing is to wear a sanitary pad, granny underpants, and the loosest pants possible or dresses and skirts (do not give into your vanity and wear jeans, OUCH!) Yes, that area is more sensitive and sore. Don't plan on too much bike riding if you experience these. If you find you are bleeding, apply pressure just like any other bleed you would have. If you don't stop bleeding within several minutes call your doc and be open to going to the ER. Don't feel stupid or weird about talking to your OB about this. There are LOTS of other uncomfortable things that you'll be talking about later with your OB. (Personally, I blushed when I asked my OB about them. BUT, I did ask!)

Swelling--and I don't mean in the face or legs. Yes, the labia/vulva can swell, particularly if you are carrying low--all that pressure from the baby may create some discomfort for you. The best thing that I have found is 1) don't freak out, it will go away after the delivery and 2) wear granny underpants and the loosest pants possible, or dresses and skirts.

Incontinence--This is something that happens with most women when they are pregnant. They sneeze and a little pee comes out. They throw-up and a little pee comes out. They laugh and a little pee comes out. It is what happens when the baby dislocates all of the body's organs. However, because my baby is so low--I move and a little pee comes out; the baby twists and a little pee comes out. It is frustrating sometimes and I am to the point that I wonder why I even use the toilet. If someone would just slap a diaper on me, I would be good to go. But, I know that this will go away.

"Walking Like You've Been Kicked In the Nuts" OR "The Cowboy Walk"--No, noone kicked me in the groin, but the baby's head has been in position to deliver since week 16 and right on the cervix the entire time. Some days, it hurts to get up and stand and walk down the hall, my pelvis feels like it will split in two, and it is just wholly uncomfortable. I try to do some stretching, and I wear a maternity belt on the more horrific days. I haven't walked with any speed since 20 weeks. (Many ladies talk about this discomfort when their baby is engaged or during "lightening"---which usually occurs at the end of the pregnancy as the baby prepares to enter our world.) I don't have any helpful hints. Take comfort from the fact that you aren't the only one.

Exercising during my pregnancies could have, maybe, alleviated some of the discomfort from some of the previously mentioned issues. I don't know because I was told not to work out---then I was told keep it to short walks---and then the contractions started and I was told to basically do nothing. But, talk about it with your doctor. Several other ladies that have carried low didn't have any problems with exercising . . . and some did. We are all different---but we do share common experiences.

I wanted to share these experiences because I found that I was ashamed to even whisper the phrase "vaginal varicose veins." What poppycock! My body has been given an amazing opportunity, and I should embrace it all, not duck my head and blush when I mention *it* to the OB.

Well, now, that wasn't too bad was it?

Mommy's Cute Toes

Thanks to a couple of angels in my life, I was able to get my crusty, smelly feet attended to recently. This is no small feat (no pun intended) as I can't really reach my feet without feeling like I'll pass out from lack of oxygen and am convinced that my latest snack will resurface.

I don't spend money on myself--and when I received the gift certificate for my birthday, I hoarded it. And, I am so GLAD. I arrived several minutes early for the appointment and sat around reading in the "Relaxation Room" where they bring you drinks and snacks. I leisurely picked out my polish color (anyone with kids knows you use the word leisurely, um, never.)

I used the bathroom, and, get this, the toilet seat was HEATED. I may sound like Hillbilly Bubba's girl when this amazes me, but, seriously, anyone with hemorrhoids (I am sure you are glad I mentioned the 'rroids) or constipation or all ladies recovering from a vaginal birth should be issued one of these by their insurance. Seriously. Part of me just wanted to stay sitting on that heated seat ALL DAY LONG.

In all, it was great, I feel pampered, and my feet smell fresh. My tootsies will be the envy of all in the delivery room.

Amenity Day Spa

Missing: Sheila's Cerebrum

I've lost it. The only things I have left are love, swollen ankles, and the best two boys on the planet.

I wasn't gifted with athletic ability (though in high school I worked hard on swim team and made Varsity--but I think my coach gave me pity votes).

My musical ability is now dormant, but when it was working it took a lot of work and I don't think I ever achieved uber excellence.

My sewing skills are marginal . . . and the fact that I have lost it means I can't smart myself out of mistakes I have made in my relationship with my White Sewing Machine.

I can still make a pretty good Lego waffle (I toast it twice, people, that takes EFFORT). And, I am considering a Lego waffle to have all four food groups because that is what I gave Everett for breakfast. (Though he did request a banana, too. The 2 year old has better thinking powers right now, of course.)

But, I really miss my brain. I consider it the one reason I can manage this existence and so that those around me won't think I am a total lame, except when playing the sports or pop culture card in Trivial Pursuit. And, sometimes I am completely dead weight when playing that game. My family still plays the Junior version. Give me nature or children's literature any day.(my penchant for run-on sentences has gotten worse)

I don't get jokes. Seriously. I don't GET THEM. This is the hardest on Erik because instead of laughing at his antics I think that he has made huge judgement errors in language, logic, decency, and stories. [insert Sheila's mad scowl]

I can't find addresses; I have forgotten my phone number.

For the first time in my life, I turned my underwear BLACK in the laundry. For the life of me, I can't figure out what happened. And, it wouldn't be fair to blame it on the washing machine. In general, black underwear actually sounds alluring . . . I've seen myself more recently than you have. This black underwear is not alluring.

I know I've lost it because I saw something on Oprah about it. OH, NO! Did I just mention Oprah? Yes, and it was her doctor or that Dr. or Wizard of Oz (or whoever/whomever) that said that pregnant ladies have the brain power sucked out of them because the baby takes up all the brain fat . . . or something like that. And the Doc suggested taking amino acids or omega something threes. SEE? Evidence right there. The only thing I took away from the 5 minutes of watching the show was that the effects can be reversed through a lobotomy---any volunteers?

No, the lack of sleep isn't helping. And, I am going to commit felinicide because my cat thinks that colder weather means she can party all night and morning long. I saw her sneaking out in her pink high heels and red lipstick this morning at 4:30. Where does she get the energy when she only got home at 2:00? She needs a job. (no, I won't kill the cat. she does a great job of distracting and entertaining Everett--even though he still likes to drink out of a cup the same way she drinks out of her water bowl. and, everyone in the neighborhood loves her. crazies.)

I can't spell. I usually manage a couple of mistakes per post. I just spelled checked this post---15 errors.

A gourmet meal means that I cooked ground beef, mixed in some jarred spaghetti sauce, and put it on some pasta that I cooked for 10 minutes. I cannot handle any complexities without it (my brain, not the gourmet meal, oh--whatever).

It is gone. I've lost it.

Anyone seen it or have one I can borrow until Christmas? Otherwise, I think it is possible I might feed Everett M&Ms for lunch believing it has all four food groups, too.

Do they do Amber alerts for missing brains? If they know I am a really nice person, will that make a difference?

34 Weeks

We made it another week. Remember, the goal is 37 weeks. At this point, bedrest isn't something that the doctor will consider if I go into labor--the doctor will just try to deliver the baby as safely as possible.

3 more weeks to go to meet the goal. Random detail: The baby is most active late at night and in the wee early hours of the morning.

Highlight: Yesterday, I bought some smoking hot RED pants on sale to wear to make my rotation of pants be every three days. I feel so cool wearing them. Because, really, who has a pair of RED pants? I can't wait to wear them, again on Saturday, when they go through the rotation.

Overall, the days are inconsistent rotating between horrible to okay, due to contractions. Today was on the rougher side. I had my sweet caretaker, Everett, by my side all day. He even gave me his blankie to lay with on the couch.

Everett is currently finishing up watching Cars. He always gets upset when The King is pushed into an accident in the race. "NO, NO, NO, NO!" he screams. Poor guy! (Just wait until you see him in his Halloween costume.)

Pregnancy Picture--33 Weeks

33 Weeks

33 WEEKS!!!!!! Can you believe it? Can you?

I am so psyched! 33 weeks and no prescribed bedrest. Of course, I am not able to do a fraction of what I normally do on any given day when I am not pregnant, but who really does? (No, don't tell me that other pregnant ladies can do whatever they want like shop--run--shop--drive for over 20 minutes--shop--go for walks, I want to believe this maybe false idea that they can't because it is my reality.) I have cut back my activities to like almost nothing for MONTHS now, but when I feel okay and don't feel like throwing up, I can cook a pretty good meal and dance around with Everett and think of projects to do that "have" to get done before the baby arrives.

33 Weeks--I can't believe it!

Baby S

5 pounds and 8 ounces (average at this gestation is just over 4 pounds)

measuring at 35 weeks physically

hiccups daily

freaked me out when he had a "slow" week last week

still has a hand at his mouth for every sonogram

beginning to run out of room

(No, we don't know that it is a boy.)

Mommy

As I finish up this 8th month in a couple of weeks and head to the 9th (once I get to just over 35 weeks), I am in uncharted territory. What is week 36-40 like? The doctor says no elective induction until 39 weeks. SIGH--I was hoping I could just be induced the moment he took me off the contraction medication at 37 weeks.

For now I am just always tired--don't sleep at night. I am running out of TUMS. In the morning my face is swollen. In the evening the rest of me is slightly swollen (like a roasted marshmallow, not like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man). A plus to having swollen facial features is I get the Angelina Jolie lips all for free.

I am lucky sufferer of horrid contractions, but according to the sonogram the cervix is fine (in fact the perinatologist scared me a bit by saying,"I hope that your cervix starts opening more because otherwise you'll have a cesarean.") I don't care if I have to get a c-section---but all this concern over the cervix and then I need a c-section!!

Dear High-risk Doctor, Just be happy that I am no more trouble to you, that you will never need to see me again--though it sounds like you are very much like Dr. House and get giggly over complication. Sincerely, Me

Previous to this sonogram, I didn't want to have to need the sonograms. I don't care how many "pictures of my baby" I received. I want a NORMAL, AVERAGE, boring pregnancy. As much as the sonograms were a pain to go to and keeping track of all that goes with doctors' appointments was a burden, today's sonogram was . . . awesome. I didn't have one with Everett this far along in the pregnancy. This baby is running out of room, you can see hair (evidently this baby has a headful), you can see eyelids, you can now connect the bumps in your belly to the locations of the head/butt/body/feet without question, you can see more definition in the fingers and feet and chubby cheeks. What an opportunity I have had to watch the development of life, the life of one of my own children so closely!

OO-need to take a break, contraction really hurts. . . . . Okay, I'm back.

My OB admonished me today that despite all the good and giggly news from the sonogram, I am to take it easy and rest A LOT. I am hitting the part of the pregnancy where I went into labor with Everett, 35 weeks. My personal goal is 37 weeks.

I've updated my Netflix cue. I've given up the guilt that usually comes if Everett watches TV for over an hour while I nap on the floor. I have sitters lined up for Everett when the event occurs (Thank You, Ladies!). And, I should probably pack some hospital bags.

As far as I am concerned, we are hunkering down for the home stretch.

Erik ran into our old Bishop, who is currently in our Stake Presidency, this past Sunday. He was one of the very few that knew we were going through IVF when we did it in 2006. He visited and blessed Everett in the NICU when Evy showed up early. And, he always has our well-being close to his heart. He asked how I was doing. Erik gave him the bitter truth (which I don't always share/talk/blog about).

He replied: Birth in itself is a miracle. For some people, birth takes many, many miracles.

Amen, Brother! He gets it.

My Jello Turkey

Today we were at the expensive grocery store buying those items that I couldn't find at my cheap grocery store, and I saw it . . . the strawberry jello. I don't know why but since about 1/2 way through the pregnancy, the premade strawberry jello mixed with fruit cocktail found in the deli section (and about 10 times expensive as making myself) has looked so cool and delicious. I was able to withstand the temptation until today--I know, I know.

That's how Everett and I came to eat jello at lunch. He had never experienced the stuff and was delighted to taste, squeeze handfuls, and smell the chilled gelatin. While I was cleaning up the table and he was finishing his exploration of the stuff, he pointed at me and said, "curcle?" (his word for circle).

I came closer and he repeated while pointing at my face, "curcle?"

Did I have something on my face?

I came even closer and he, again, repeated while pointing at my face, "curcle?"

When I finally arrived in within the parameter of what his arms could reach, he slathered the jello he had on his hands all over my mouth and laughed at how clever he thought he was.

My Jello Turkey.

Baby, Baby!

When you struggle with infertility, there are just some lines of thought that you don't allow yourself to go down. You enjoy others' babies . . . sometimes to a point. For me, when the struggle was especially poignant, I often wanted to just be detached to stay safe from pain and disappointment. The following reflection was one I never allowed myself to hope to have.

We are so excited for the next little one to join our family. I am excited that Everett will have a brother or sister grow up alongside.

I've been going through boxes and boxes picking things out that the baby can wear the first couple of weeks, especially if we end up having a girl. Not knowing beforehand if we are having a boy or a girl is something that is important to us. For those of you just tuning in to read the blog, we want some part of this pregnancy to be a surprise, a mystery. Every step of the way with the FET process, and then the high-risk pregnancy monitoring, has left little room for mystery and wonder.

The girl name is set. The boy name continues to transform. We have some strong contenders going, and Erik is ever diligent in getting community involvement so that the name is "just right." Not to be too obtuse, but I just don't feel right putting the names in writing just yet. So, you'll have to stay tuned.

I don't often wax nostalgic, but it was so peacefully fun to go through Everett's baby clothes this evening. Folding the newly washed clothing, I would remember incredulously that he really *was* that small, I would remember who gave us what outfit and think back to see if they've had a chance to see him recently, I would remember being amazed at how quickly he grew.

We have been immeasurably blessed to have Everett in our lives. Being a parent has been one of the most joyous and humbling experiences I have had the opportunity to experience. I have known more growth in the past two years than I thought was humanly possible.

This will probably be my last pregnancy. I am not, for lack of a better word, happy with that, but I am infinitely grateful for the blessings that I have. My heart is filled with gratitude for the blessings of two pregnancies, a crazy cute 2 year old, and the image of what will come with the addition of our second child.

BTW, Baby S is hiccuping rhythmically right now.

Week 29

I MADE IT!!!

Overall, this week has been easier on the contraction front. They are still coming. The Doc and I conferred today with today's sonogram results and decided to put me on Procardia to help decrease the number of contractions. I am happy with that.

I had so much help today with Everett. Lovely Bonnie watched him during my several hour sonogram trip and Lovely Lizbeth kept him occupied while I went to the doc in the afternoon. Without them, today would have been very, very hard. I am grateful to have friends that are able to help.

In all, the cervix looks longer than it ever has . . . mostly due to the position of the baby at the time of the sonogram. And, no your cervix can't grow or "go back"--but at least it isn't short and responding to the contractions. Don't worry, the baby's position hasn't veered--still head down deep in the pelvic region. At least some things in life are consistent.

Because the baby is carrying so low and because my torso is so long, I look really funny most days . . . the belly is pouring out of my shirts, even when I layer with a tank top underneath. They haven't started making TALL sized maternity clothes, yet. I've tried several different things. The most successful is to go up 2 sizes to XXL--which leaves enough material to cover the belly so I don't go waddling about like my pants are about to fall off and showing my gut to the world.

Most of you won't be surprised to know that in two weeks the baby's weight went from 50th percentile to 85th percentile. I knew that this little one would grow to be just as robust as Everett; I was just hoping that it would happen a little bit later in the pregnancy. In all, it is nothing to complain about--just an observation. The baby is measuring 2-3 weeks further in development, depending on the body part, than 29 weeks. In all, I'll be a huge pregnant lady.

(You'll have to stay tuned to see how I figured out to do a Halloween costume with my growing size. I think the idea is ingenious. Erik doesn't think it is a genius product, but he remains supportive, as always.)

Though things are hard, they could be harder. I am grateful for the opportunity to be pregnant and to experience the development of life. I am grateful for excellent health care and doctors who listen (despite one of the high-risk doctors telling me today that if contractions bother me I should drink 1/2 a glass of wine and go lay down---I think he must have just had a glass himself).

Rocks-My Pregnant Mind

When I was little I was the proud owner of a Marie Osmond doll and a Danny Osmond doll, before they melted in our storage, the attic. And, no, not the dolls that she sells but the actual Barbie dolls. They pretty much look like the ones below . . . well, except I didn't approve of her make-up choice and helped her out with purple marker eye-shadow. Yeah, I was a regular fashionista. Maybe I was helping her coordinate her look better. Oh, and the cool part was you could put a microphone in their rigor mortis hands. Those were some good times.One of their songs that has been playing in my head this afternoon is the "Little Bit Country/Little Bit Rock-n-Roll" . . . the past several days have been hard physically with the pregnancy. I tried successfully to take it in stride until today. I just feel like crap-ola. The nags of daily living like bills seem overwhelming, online transactions completed to minimize the stress of getting out aren't going as planned, and all small things seem humongous. You know those days.

The BHing is getting very annoying and draining, this baby is putting so much pressure on my cervix--every time I stand up I swear I'll see a head poking out if I look down, headache, overall moodiness, and just a bit of some irritation or frustration with how hard each step seems to be fuels bubbling anger that this overextended childbearing phase of my life has been so hard when it seems others just get pregnant by magic in their perky mid-twenties and are able to work/shop/play until they have their baby, on time. Yeah, some self-pity in that run-on sentence, okay maybe a lot.

I just keep thinking that another mountain will have been climbed if I can make it to the sonogram next week. If I were to go in whining to the doctor today, I would either 1) pay a bunch of money for the doctor to tell me to suck it up and keep going because pregnancy just sucks or 2) be put on bedrest. Neither would help me feel better. So, I am taking it easy, allowing Everett more Clifford than usual.

So the song, "Little Bit Country/Little Bit Rock-n-Roll" in my pregnant mind is reminding me that both sides are needed. To swallow the not so good in order to reap the reward of having another member of our family join us. I know that isn't what the song is about, and I do like country and rock-n-roll, but in my mind, that balance is what it is about right now. I know that after the weekend I'll feel better.

The headache is compounded with the peppery pungent odor from the rub we used on the about a-bajillion pounds of meat sitting in our fridges ready to be grilled tomorrow for the church Fajita Feast. My hallways are cluttered with Feast-y preparations. My expansive kitchen is filled with chips, tortillas, and I can't find the yogurt behind all the sour cream. After the weekend, I'll be able to see more of my house and not get frustrated because I shouldn't move any of it myself.

The spider paranoia I've had with this pregnancy had really gone away--until I saw a large spider in the bathroom again a couple of hours ago. Irrationally, I'm convinced that he'll hurt Everett. Part of me knows that it is totally ridiculous, part of me is genuinely concerned that if I try to kill it, it will attack and kill me, and then I couldn't be around to save Everett. For now, since Erik isn't here to kill it, I've BARRICADED the door shut. Cause, the spider is going to turn the doorknob, right, and he couldn't just squeeze through the opening at the bottom of the door? Crap, that could happen; I've got to put a towel there.

Rational thought, wherefore art thou? [and yes, I have misused that quote because Juliet is actually asking Romeo WHY he is a Montague rather than where the darn he is, but this is my blog.]

So, if I could get past the tears, I would probably laugh hysterically. For the moment, I'm listening to The Monkey's hit, Daydream Believer, on Pandora. And, no, I don't understand the lyrics right now, but it is a happy tune. Which was just followed by The Bangles "Eternal Flame" . . . starting to feel better.

I need comfort food now to balance it all out. Does The Cracker Barrel deliver? oooo--and it just started to rain AND I think Everett may actually take a nap despite the past 2 hours of nap refusal. Maybe things are starting to get better before Monday.

Hospital Tour

Last night, Erik and I went on a tour of the hospital where we'll be delivering our baby. It is different than the hospital we used for Everett.

I REALLY liked it. I REALLY liked how they are open to what the patient wants and would like to do. There are some logistical drawbacks to using a larger hospital, but I think that it will be worth it in the end. The NICU is the best in the area and has much better policies than Everett's NICU. (Most people don't think about that; I do.)

It was also great to be at a point where I can actually visualize a normal delivery . . . visualizing the delivery without at least 3 NICU staff breathing down my neck. Visualizing that I am able to keep my baby with me and not have to drag my swollen and wrecked body down several floors and through the hospital to go see my baby. (I wasn't able to see Everett, aside from the few minutes I had when he was fresh from the womb, until 14 hours after I had him. I had "too much medication" in my system, they said. That was a total load of crap--they were just too lazy to put me in a wheelchair and give me directions to the NICU.)

If this pregnancy weren't full of concern, I would be actively investigating other venues to have my child. [Erik is having a heart attack as he just read that because he checked out ALL the birthing videos in preparation for Everett's delivery (wasn't able to attend childbirth class because I was on bedrest) and he saw ALL kinds of venues.] As it is, I am comfortable with our choice and am grateful to have choices.

It was great to walk through those labor and delivery halls with the opportunity to ask questions rather than have the first time I go through be because I am in delivery crisis. I am just fine without the drama, thankyou.

Don't get me wrong; I am grateful for the inspired doctors and nurses that brought my first pregnancy as far as it went and were able to help all of us with Everett's prematurity. But I am looking forward to being supported by staff open to whether or not you want to breastfeed (even those in NICU), I am looking forward to being supported by staff that doesn't have a huge patient load, and I am looking forward to meeting my baby, hopefully without drama.

Week 27

I am at 27 weeks and taking it carefully. "Doomsday" high-risk doctors say I am to be the "last to get up in the morning and the first to go to bed"--and then reality kicks in because when Everett is up, Everett is up.

So far, so good. We are holding strong. The baby always has his hand to his mouth when he gets his picture taken--funny how we develop habits even before we leave the comfort of the womb.

We've been talking with Everett about how he will be a big brother, reading books about what that means. He doesn't get that. But, he gets what a baby is. Since we've been talking about the baby so much, he has taken to holding and playing with the swarthy baby doll that we have here. I taught him how to wrap it in a blanket, and he thinks it is cool to cuddle with the baby wrapped up tight. He also gives the baby a ride in his $1.91 grocery cart that I found at a thrift store last week.

While I was at Girls' Night this past Friday, the boys held a "Hurricane Hanna Party" and part of the dance moves included the "baby belly." Everett, since the party, has a better understanding that I have a baby in my belly. Early the very next morning, Everett wanted to show me the dance move. Here is a picture of all of us, with the boys ready to do the baby belly dance. I must admit I found it hysterical. (it was very early and my hair reflects that. no, I'm not *that* much taller than Erik, I am standing on a mattress pad we put out for the dance floor.)

We are in the middle of Purge Week. I find that I get frustrated because I can't lift, move, or push stuff around very much because of the fear of overdoing it. Which means I have to wait for someone else to do it for me. Which means that I can't be independent. Which I hate. I'm taking it in stride, though, and am consistently grateful for Erik's help.

SuperCervix and Gaucho Maternity Pants

The Synopsis
Despite some BraxtonHicks contractions and overall cramping for the past several weeks--sort of like earthquakes with aftershocks, I am going strong with a very long cervix.

I feel blessed. In fact, at the OB appointment today, I think he might have said "normal pregnancy." WHAT! Do I dare entertain that I can be considered normal?

Nah, not really. But I left the appointment confident in my body's abilities (for the time being) and Everett left the appointment with LegoFever. I guess we are going to have to get some of those.

For those that want more detail
"Mom, are those PANTS?" questions Little Miss B, the little girl who lives across the cluster from us.

She was asking about my very fashionable maternity gaucho pants that I bought over two years ago at Target. Yeah, you read it right, Gaucho Maternity Pants. And, no, no one ever looked as good as in the picture below. In fact, Erik didn't ever want me wearing them in public sort of like I never want him to wear his UT muscle t-shirt in public. Gotta have some standards.

They forgot to make sure that this model was 1) really pregnant and 2) wearing shoes that a pregnant off-balance person would wear. So, imagine more material in the folds (pants have to grow with you and much more sensible shoes. Imagine a larger derriere (mother nature helps you balance out the growing belly). Imagine a poochy belly . . . and you've got the reason why Little Miss B was sightly confused by my pants/skirt/dress?

Why, when I live in a place where I can get cute maternity clothes, do I offend fashionable senses by wearing my gaucho pants? (I do have them in cobalt black and spanish brown.) They are comfortable. The stretchy material is folded over at the waist and there is NO elastic.

Evidently, I have an irritable uterus. Evidently, this occurs when there is muchas cramping and BHicking (BraxtonHicks contracting for short, people) AND when that cramping doesn't effect the length of the cervix. I get the more painful cramping when I am wearing a seatbelt, sitting at the computer, driving, going up and down stairs, sitting with decent posture, and when I am wearing maternity pants with elastic in the waist band. Thus, the draw to my very out-of-style gaucho pants.

Celebrating 21!

Everett is now 21 months, and this pregnancy is 21 weeks along!

Update on Evy

Evy is talking more and more. The other day he was telling me about the cat, and when I didn't understand it was the CAT he was talking about, he paused, looked at me, and then said, "Meow!" I got it then.

Weight: 30 pounds

Clothes: 2T

Shoes: 7 1/2 extra wide

Socially

• The center of his universe is still Dada.
• He enjoys interacting with other kids; since most of his friends are older, he is usually found trying to mimic what they are doing (especially his cousin Preston).
• He is going through some separation issues right now, especially with Dada. He hates being left behind in nursery.
• It is common for him to want to give a "high five" or "the rock" to everyone we meet from the cashier, to the waiter, to the garbage man (he loves the garbage man). Often times, he even wants to give them a hug and kiss, too.
• He knows, usually, when he is up to no good. As he embarks upon a task of mischief, he usually perches on a step that is far from my sight. He has also been known to close all the doors between me and the room where the "up to no good" activity will ensue. When he is caught, he is very quick to stop and make amends.
• His way of saying sorry is to tilt his head to the right and lean in for a hug.

For Fun

• He is happiest when he is in a large open space with music and a bunch of balls. We dance everyday, several times a day, and it is fun to see how he develops his dance moves. Right now he has a floor routine! It is hysterical! And the fave music is SALSA!
• Everett usually is the one that initiates reading books. He can be found pulling a book to just look at by himself. His favorite activity while in the car (if there aren't any trucks around) is reading his books, especially the truck books.
• He loves his cat. (If it were not for Everett's devotion to the cat, the cat would be gone.) He loves to pet and scratch her. He loves to give her hugs, and he is always letting me know that the cat needs something if he thinks I haven't responded in a timely manner to the cat's demands.
• This kid is a giggler. He is extremely ticklish and we make the most of that. His sense of humor is continually being refined; today he decided to flash his brilliant "teethy" smile, and we were very blinded by the brilliance, which he found totally funny. It is so fun to see him initiate humor.
• He is a developing singer; though he might be tone deaf. In church, when we are singing the hymns, he sings right along with us, very LOUDLY! He will also sing along to his lullabies at night and to country music when it is playing in the car.

Tid Bits

• We haven't started potty training, but he is showing signs of readiness. He understands what happens in the potty and usually wants to participate by putting a square of toilet paper in the toilet before we flush (no, we don't get to use the bathroom by ourselves anymore) and say "bye-bye" to the contents of the bowl.
• He is a terrific eater but still is not a fan of raw fruit. He loves PB &J, chicken, lima beans, dipping sauce (any sauce to dip whatever in), cherrios, hot dogs, dried fruit, WATER, cheese, crackers, and yogurt. Is not a fan of milk or green beans.
• He loves to look at himself in the mirror after getting dressed in the morning. He actually wants to look in every mirror in the house after getting dressed. Sometimes he helps me pick out his clothes; sometimes he would rather run around naked and fights me tooth and nail in getting dressed.
• He has to have two of everything. Two water bottles, two blankies, two crackers, and even suggests to us that we have two, too.
• He hates having his nails clipped or having anything on his feet.

Physically

• We see little residual from his acid reflux days. Usually, when we see a cough or runny nose, we see the sensitive gag reflux (so we end up feeling like we are treating the stomach flu and the cough).
• He is working on walking fast and on his climbing skills. He is attempting to go up and down stairs without holding onto anything.
• The other day he wanted to show me how well he was "kikning" the ball. It was so great to see him 1) show something off, 2) get a new word, and 3) show a skill that we've been really working towards mastering.

What does he think about babies? He is actually a fan. Since Baby Riley has been around the house recently, he has learned to share attention from Dada and Momma a bit. (has the hardest time sharing Dada) He loves to play with Riley, give her kisses, and just watch her. He loves to hug and kiss the baby doll that we have in the toy box.

Does he know there is a baby coming? Well, I've tried to explain the growing tummy. And, I can tell he is trying to understand when I explain it, but I don't think he has any idea.

Update on Baby S

Due Date: Early December

Estimated Weight: 1 pound

Though the pounds still aren't packing for me, my body is changing. I am obviously pregnant (past the "looking like I'm hitting the ho-ho" stage and well into I look pregnant stage) and completely off balance. Twice this weekend I tripped down or up stairs.

Today at the mid-pregnancy sonogram, the baby was constantly moving and making the sonographer work for her money. Though, I must admit that she didn't make me go pee or turn upside down like with Everett's scan in order to get shots of all his innards.

The baby's anatomy is great. And, no, we did not find out the sex of the baby. We're holding out until Baby S is born for that detail. We were able to see the scans on a big flat screen TV placed right in front of us (no craning the neck to see the sonographer's screen) and, as you can see from the picture above, she did take a facial picture with their cool 3D/4D wand.

The baby is completely head first right now--WAY down in my pelvic area. Explains the extreme discomfort I've been having. In fact, when they did the internal probe to check the cervix, we saw 1) the cervix and 2) the crown of a head at the same time. The baby was pushing right against the cervix. I don't want another eager beaver baby.

As far as the cervix (cause I know all of you are really wanting that detail), the cervix is fine. Looking good! I was hoping that this was my last trip to their office for awhile (I go to a high-risk sonogram facility). But, since Everett was low and then I started having cervical problems, and now this baby is low, I get to go at least two more times.

I know I shouldn't feel inconvenienced by that, but it is just such an effort to go. And, part of me doesn't want to go because I don't want to have these concerns; I don't want to have to need to go. I don't want cervical problems or preterm labor looming over me. So, I'll suck it up and let that be the end of the complaining.

Happy, Happy, Twenty-One!

Pregnancy GRRrrr!

Word of Warning--This has complaining in it. I am very grateful to be pregnant and to have the resources to get great prenatal care. But, I am angry right now.

Okay, I am also cranky--Admittedly sometimes smaller issues may set me off.

Having eating and vomiting issues are not glamorous. It is a pain in the butt to walk around cranky and hungry (and I am sure that Erik and Everett can attest to that). Slowly it is getting better, but it still means that I stand in front of the fridge, HUNGRY, and unable to stomach a thing . . . except maybe peaches. They say that no matter how much you vomit in the beginning, you end up gaining around the same amount of weight as your other pregnancies. That would be 25 pounds with Everett. If this doesn't end soon, those are going to be some wicked stretch marks.

Pregnancy induced ramble: Is there any such thing as "medically necessary" tattoos? Tattoos can cover ugly stretch marks.

Back to the post: I am a bit torqued right now. I just came back from my cervix sonogram. They were very LATE, which is always hardest for Everett, especially when the room is overcrowded. I had to give my history, again, the third time to a different doctor. (Repetition can annoy me; unnecessary repetition really irritates me.--Especially if the doctors are not taking any steps to communicate with each other or at least take notes that they can all read.)

The following all take place after waiting over an hour and a half. ----------------

The nurse practitioner got my ire up first after taking my history,"I am really upset to see you picking up your son and carrying things."

My response: First, I don't care what upsets you right now. This is the first time I have ever met you, and secondly, picking up toddlers is part of the mommy's job. And the reason I am carrying him is because your office is too small to wheel my stroller through this part of the corridor.

Her response: Oh.

I got attitude from the perinatologist today, too. Sort of,"why are you here?" Because, evidently, the history I gave to the nurse practitioner wasn't complete or grave enough. The concern of my OB wasn't strong enough.

He says, "I just don't think you had an incompetent cervix in your last pregnancy based on what you told me."

My inward response: I am not here to debate what happened last time. What is happening now?

I was grilled about the date I got my last period, my ovulation date, my transfer date , etc. (BTW, once you get your due date, those details tend to blur because WHO CARES, you are having a baby!) He then asked if my due date was given to me by my endocrinologist or by sonogram. Who actually was my endocrinologist? Am I really sure that it was 6 day blastocysts that were transferred? Really? (Said incredulously.)

WHO CARES? Is my cervix okay or not? WHY are you asking all these questions that none of the other perinatologists asked? IS my baby too small/too big? WHY are you so focused on this?

(Everett and I then sat for a good five minutes as he did the math on his little organizer to make sure that the due date I gave him was approximate enough. Five minutes with a wiggly toddler who is tired of sitting and wants to run. He didn't respond at all to Everett until I would say things like, "He is saying HI to you." or "He is trying to show you his truck." JERK--you take care of women pregnant with babies all day and yet you can't spare a little boy a smile.)

I was told by him to stop picking up and carrying Everett. Oh, and then, as a side note, my cervix looks fine. I am not a candidate for a cerclage. Did he not read the file at all? Did he not read that the others said the same thing, that the reason I am here is to be on the safe side? What DO they write in there?

He did say that as preterm labor was a concern with Everett, that he is pretty sure it will be a concern with this pregnancy. So, no lifting, no grocery shopping, etc, etc. Good thing he didn't see how many stairs I have in my home.

And, BTW, I am feeling okay today, thanks for not asking.

Things that I want right now:

• To eat without feeling like I will throw it up.
• To have a negotiated job offer.
• To sell the house in 2 weeks.

The sooner I get in my new home, the better it will be because we all know how much lifting isn't done when you move.

The bright side to the visit was Amanda my sonographer. (I don't know if that is a real word, but I use it.) She isn't one of those stuffy technicians that says with a frown,"I can't answer that. The doctor will have to answer that." Like you've just asked a top secret question about YOUR OWN body. Darn it, if you have the answer to my question, give it to me and if you must add that litigious phrase then say,"but the doctor is the best one to answer it." OR give the rote answer just leave off the frown. Frowns make me worry.

Amanda calls my cervix,"Super Cervix!" That makes me feel better.