tick, tock

tick tock tick tock. that's all i've been hearing in the back if my head. my time at home is quickly coming to an end. less than a week now, and the more i try to embrace every little thing, the more anxious i become. last night i was crying in bed, and h tried to comfort me- it's not like he's joining the army, he's going to daycare! i know that duh. but he just doesn't get it. what if gobbles wakes up from a nap looking for me, and can't find me? what if he spends so much time there that he no longer thinks of me as the main person in his life? what if something bad happens, like those horror stories you see on the news? i don't even want to go there...

and what about the puppies? lame to worry about them too, i know, but still. my poor lil babies haven't gotten the attention they need as it is, what will happen when i only have a few hours each day?

and my body? pshh forget it. i definitely didn't exercise as much as i should have during my time off, and now there will be no time for that. but i have to do something. the diet is completely stalling, and i have like 2 outfits that fit. i was shopping yesterday for a suit (for an interview - prayers please!) and not even XL blouses were fitting. during my crying rant last night i went off about that too. as much as i make jokes about my boobs being giant, deep down i really hate it. i mean really, G-H is like a friggan porn star, i'll take my old DD back and promise i won't complain. i talked about giving up breastfeeding just so they'd go down, but what if they don't? and regardless i'm going to have all this extra skin making them a hot mess, stuffing them into some kind of super support old lady definitely not sexy bra. i know i want to get them reduced after kids, but do i even want to wait that long?

and why am i crying about myself when i know that the whole reason im upset is change. i do not deal well with change unless im the one controlling it. i know everything will work out fine, but it's just hard to envision now. especially because we can't even settle into a nice routine yet with me flying to houston first thing monday morning. way to let me ease back into it, assholes.

ok. i actually feel better having gotten that out. i can do this. in the meantime, i've got to complete weeks' worth of tasks that i put off until now (oh i've got such a long leave, plenty of time to do that), including baby portraits, appointments, filling in the pages of the baby book, doing the final enrollment meeting with daycare, and getting the damn house cleaned.

yesterday we had gobble's 4 month checkup a little early (as part of the to do list). he is growing like a champ and took his shots like a little man. still 17 lbs (i swear i weighed him at that a month ago, but their scale is more accurate i suppose), and now 25.5" tall. the doctor was amazed at how he was supporting his weight on his legs already, joking that he's trying to walk already. i know she was just joking, but just hearing that made me want to take my gobbles, and run away to a land where we wouldn't age, just to pause for a little while. where are jacob and richard alpert when you need them?

well i should probably get some stuff done before he wakes up from his nap, i'll have plenty of time to be on this computer in a week, so time to enjoy the freedom to put it down now! i promise the next post will be more happy, all puppies and rainbows!

A lot can change in a year, part 3: The Baby!

this picture has nothing to do with this post, just took it this morning and thought it was funny!

so, now i get to talk about the fun part! i was having a baby, i was ready, i was HUGE, i was huffing and puffing up the stairs, i wasn't sleeping anymore, i was working from home on the couch in my sweatpants, i was having braxton hicks contractions all the time, but still, he didn't feel like showing up just yet. before i get into all the gory details, i'd like to preface that nothing here really that bad. sure, in the moment it seemed like the end of the world, but looking back that feeling was so temporary that it's just a small flash in the big picture. this is a case where the ends definitely justify the means. it probably helps that i'm writing today on a full nights' sleep because my baby slept... well, like a baby... for almost 9 hours last night. therefore you'll get more of a blissful perspective.

i'll start at 39 weeks, 3 days pregnant. the weekly checkup went exactly the same as those previous. a fingertip dialated, zero effacement. i was told to see where the week takes me, and if i returned for another appointment we would talk induction. i was a little unhappy with this report, especially since i'd been having irregular contractions for a week already, and had heard from just about everyone who saw me and my extra 45 lbs that i was ready to pop, definitely going to go early. i'd given my husband permission to go to the phish concert the next day, provided that they all kept their cell phones ready and alert should i go into labor. as sis-in-law and i hung out at my house, we were so sure something would happen we just stared at my bulbous belly the whole time. a watched pot never boils.

the day after the concert was thanksgiving, and i don't remember much, just that my mom hosted since we expected to be in the hospital. i went over bright and early that day to cook the turkey. as the day wore on and it was apparent that this baby was staying put, i got moodier and moodier, somehow my family put up with me. each day thereafter kind of went like that. i even went dress shopping with my engaged sister on my due date! finally after the weekend i got to my 40+ week appointment, where it was the same old story. the dr attempted to thin me out a little bit with a rough internal, ugh. she sent me on my way, wishing me luck that the contractions would turn into something. she gave me instructions to go for a nonstress test on thursday, then call the hospital the upcoming sunday night to make sure there was room to admit me for induction, and sent the paperwork over to the hospital.

induction? no way! i didn't want any drugs, nothing. nope, i was going au natural. my mother, even my father told me, you are nuts, just get the epidural. "no no," i said, "NO drugs". so, after i got home i turned to my trusty friend the internet to figure out how to get this baby out sooner. i took long walks. did jumping jacks. baked "labor" cookies consisting of cayanne pepper and more nasty things. did the deed with hubs. hooked myself up to the breastpump for nipple stimulation (ouch! when there's no milk. i do not recommend this). i did all of these things, plus bitched and moaned to anyone who would listen. then i just stopped answering my phone and emails from people (mostly from my mom), "is the baby here yet??!! how do you feel?" NO! the baby is NOT here. how do you THINK i feel? i don't know how i didn't end up friendless and divorced, i was that horrible.

meanwhile, during the nonstress test, (which took place on my 4 year anniversary!) baby's heartrate was good but my fluid was "on the low side of normal". they had to monitor me again 24 hours later to make sure i didn't lose any more fluid, and they deemed me good to go since it was only a few more days until the induction.

by saturday, at 41 weeks, i was resolved to the fact that going into labor on my own wasn't going to happen. but it was ok by then, becuase within the next 48 hours, surely i'll have my baby! i told my boss the day before, guess what, i'm actually not going to work next week! sunday was a good day, h and i cooked up a good last meal, i called the hospital and they said yup there's room, c'mon in. so we get there, all psyched up to go, i've got my pillow and my suitcase, let's get this show on the road. the nurse brings us into the room, and goes to get the paperwork. "um, gobblesmom, is it? yes you're not down for tonight, you're on for tomorrow night". WHAT. THE. FUCK. no no, here i have it written down, sunday night for a monday baby! i have low fluid! i need this baby out!! the nurse could sense my impending tears, told me she'd see what she could do. in the meantime they'd check the heartrate so i should get into the bed. when she came back, she told me sorry but there's nothing she can do, they already had x inductions scheduled for the next day, no room for me. baby was doing fine, so he can wait another day.

dejected and somewhat humiliated, we left. by the time we got back to the car, i was bawling, then hysterical. i remember hubs freaking out on the parking attendant who said no credit cards only cash, but then not having change for a 20. i don't remember much more of the ride home, or the next day, or even heading to the hospital the next night. it was kind of a funky, impatient haze. i think we laid low and watched movies all day.

so, finally, monday night, go time. again i forget my last meal, but i know it was around 5. i get in, the dr. feels me up, "about 7 1/2 lbs i'd say", and sends in the nurse to administer the Cervadil, since i was only about 20% effaced. at that point, i'm done eating and drinking. permission only for ice chips and ice pops until after baby. after i'm settled in and ready to sleep, i sent h home to care for the pups, since the cervadil needed a few hours to start working anyway. i slept a bit, but not really much because i was anxious and contracting, but nothing to the point of crazy yet.

early morning i get checked, "hmm. your cervix is still thick, let's do another round of cervadil". fine. meanwhile, hubs has arrived and was fending of phone calls from my mother. "how is she? what's going on? where is my grandson?!!" after my morning dose of wendy williams, they checked me again and still wasn't good enough for their standards. so they administered cytotec. apparently this drug is typically taken orally to relieve ulcers, yet this was administered to me in another way. i later learned that this is NOT a recommended use for this drug (thanks again google). i hope to god they didn't mess anything up down there by doing this, but i'm supposed to trust the doctors right? anyway, a few hours, let's say late afternoon tuesday, the contractions became stronger and regular. i was officially "in labor."

finally, i thought, they can start the pitocin (which would help dialate me). not yet apparently. since i was contracting so well on my own, the doctors decided to let me ride with it, thinking i'll dialate without it. i was cool with that, if i could do it on my own that works for me. i was able to get out of bed, walk around a little bit, sit on the birthing ball. everything i had pictured for my natural labor. i made hubs run home to change his clothes, let the dogs out, and get something to eat. he came back with a wawa hoagie which i could have killed him for, but was glad he made it back quickly. they brought a cot in for him and i got an ambien so i could try and sleep thru some contractions.

about 3 am wednesday, i woke up and puked. bile of course because i had long digested my last meal from monday night. then i had a contraction so bad i felt like i had to pee, so i got out of bed, did so, and got back in and fell asleep. 5 minutes later, same thing. over and over this cycle went, until maybe 6 am. hubs (who was a saint, cleaning up my puke bucket because the nurses were busy delivering babies who wanted to come out) said he cleaned it at least 2 dozen times. the nurse checked on me in during this and i was only about 1-2 cm. finally, i couldn't take it anymore. i was dizzy from not having eaten or really slept in 36 hours, and with the amount of progress i'd had i knew it was going to be a long day. i asked the nurse if i could have an epidural.

somewhere around 9ish the anesthesiologist showed up, my hero. i know it was somewhat painful, but at this point the puking was the most annoying thing to me, so the epi wasn't bad. this was the worst part for hubs, who just about passed out as they fished it into my spine. bit within minutes, i started to lose all feeling from the waist down. it was heavenly. the puking stopped and the contractions slowed. they administered pitocen soon after - apparently my contractions got too frequent during the night that the couldn't give pitocen until they slowed again, because that makes them even stronger. so if i hadn't asked for the epi, who knows how long i'd have been there! after that i became pretty pleasant. i even fielded a phone call from a friend, wondering if i was still alive because i'd been in the hospital for two days. by noon i was 4 cm and chilling just watching tv.

i think around 2 or 3 pm the nurse checked me and i was 8 cm! hubs started calling our family to let them know baby is FINALLY on his way. for real, not for fake! sometime after 4 the nurse came in and declared me ready to push. she told hubs to grab a leg (i don't think he was expecting this!) and told me to go for it. just kind of do crunches. piece of cake. the doctor came in an hour later with the vacuum and it felt like she was there for 5 minutes. there's the head! another nurse ran in and told the dr that a woman 29 weeks with twins being brought in. she told me to push a little more. hubs told me later that the dr had to give me an episiotomy to get the kid out, my little guy had some broad shoulders, just a quick flash of the scalpel. and, just like that, at 5:37 pm, 46 hours after i was admitted to the hospital, there was my gobbles, screaming loud and clear. WOW he's big, at least 9 lbs! said the nurse. the dr delivered the placenta quickly and was gone, off to take care of the emergency.

funny, but i don't remember a lot from the moments after his birth. i saw hubs tearing up, i asked which name we should pick, he said, i think he looks like a gobbles. i agreed. before they could even clean up the blood, our families were in there, so excited to meet this long awaited treasure. i was in such a daze, it was like a dream. it could have been the lack of food or sleep, the drugs, or just the euphoria of the moment, but i was just out of it. i didn't cry, i was just relieved that he was here, happy and healthy. i think the first moment i fell in love with this child was actually the next day, before hubs got there, while i was snuggling with him after i fed him, just having some quiet time.

i didn't have a thanksgiving baby. i didn't go natural. i didn't poop on the table. i didn't get my body back... yet. i didn't have a guinness in the hospital (though my sister, bless her, actually brought it for me, i just wasn't up for it). there were so many things i didn't plan for. but i wouldn't change a thing. and i'd do it again. just give me a year or two.

Babe

Though the sun is shining outside, a chill has come over my little corner of delco. Last night as we were putting gobbles to bed, the phone rang. I looked at my husband and we knew. Grandmom i said. the news of her passing was not unexpected, as she'd been unwell for quite some time now. a few months ago, infection resulting from her diabetes led to the amputation of her second leg. the first had been gone since 2005. surgery was quite risky for her already fragile heart, and as much as she's fought over the last several weeks, it just couldn't handle the demand her body was making. i was lucky enough to stop by this past sunday to squeeze her hand and tell her i loved her one last time.

i'm sure Babe is already settling comfortably into her spot in Heaven, ready to rest easy and watch over the family she created. her husband, Mick, had been by her side since they were married almost 62 years ago. i have never seen such devotion in a couple as i have with my grandparents. Mick had a stroke a year ago, and as we visited his bedside, not expecting him to make it, he would drift in and out of consciousness saying how he needed to take care of Babe. I believe she is the reason he pushed through it. He is so in love with her that he did not want her to go a day without having him there.

Babe was the matriarch of a big fat italian family. she was a mother to 11, grandmother to 28, and great grandmother to 15 and counting. the majority of the family is stereotypical italian - we are loud, stubborn, and love to eat, sing, dance, and make fools of ourselves. family gatherings are a big to-do, not for the quiet and shy. my mother falls 2nd in that line of 11, where all the aunts look alike and the uncles look like Mick. the family is so big that a few of the older cousins are older than the younger uncles. just having recently entered motherhood, i cannot even imagine how different it was for my mom and the older siblings to be having children at the same time as their mother!

Despite all the chaos and craziness that is this italian family, Babe always imparted a sense of calm among the mass of people. she would sit quietly by as we all talked over each other in some way or another. as she grew weaker, she did not complain, just would say, "oh i'm alright." her favorite mantras were everything happens for a reason and whatever will be will be , which my mom adopted and now uses as her own. Grandmom never forgot important little facts like names and dates. after she met my husband she would always greet him or ask of him by name, even though he was one of a half dozen 20-something men to join the family around the same time. grandmom would always inform us who's birthday or anniversary was coming up and how many years to celebrate. for a group of almost 80 people (including the in-laws), it was quite impressive.

my grandmom, never wanting anyone to fuss over her, stayed true to form until the very end. last night, when the last of a weeklong string of visitors left for the evening, Babe spent a few more minutes with Mick, then she quietly moved on. after 82 years of taking care of everyone around her, she is finally able to rest.

i love you grandmom. rest in peace.

full weekend

i know i'm supposed to post part 3 of my pregnancy trilogy, but that'll just have to wait until tomorrow. this weekend was one of those that makes me sit back and realize just how much i have to be thankful for, and i need to write it down while it's fresh in my mind!

it started thursday night, when yes, we gave in and added cereal to gobbles' last bottle before bedtime. he slept like a champ, just waking up once or twice to whine, but was able to soothe himself to sleep. it was a blessing considering "cry it out" wasn't working. (i couldn't go more than 5 minutes listening to him cry, so i guess i really didn't give it a chance. oh well. not for me i guess. maybe i'll change my mind in a few months).


having had a decent nights' sleep thursday, hubs and i got up and started cleaning. he was heading out around noon to drink with his boyz all day watching college basketball (an annual tradition for them). after he left i did a little bit of cooking and hung out with my happy baby until the evening, when it was my turn to host the ladies for book club. i know, we sound old, right? i think it's a great thing all around - it keeps me reading (before i only ever read on planes) and gives us an excuse to get together regularly and have some wine and bites.


i was lucky because most of the group, plus a superfan of this month's author, were able to make it, and being a friday night, there was no pressure to get home and get up for work the next day. we had a few brief discussions about the book, Sellevision by Auguston Burroughs, but there was another topic that seemed to dominate most of the conversation that night. one of my favorite topics of late, babies! gobbles got to spend some QT with his favorite ladies (and meet some for the first time!), and he was in a decent mood for awhile. he did get a little cranky by the end, having missed a nap in there, but i know he had a lot of fun most of the night. besides, he was getting to talk to his 3 little friends, still hanging out in their mommas' bellies for now, no doubt listening to all the commotion being made over them. it definitely was a sight to take in, something i'm sure our group will be see for the next decade - a few ladies with wine in hand, a few pregsters, and a kid or two having to be attended to. all the while excitement building for each others' new boyfriend, new house, or new family arrival.


i realized as i cleaned up that night, putting just 1 wine bottle and 1 beer into the recycle bin, that nights out (or in) will be somewhat different from now on. not in a bad way, but just different. maybe it was just me, but i somehow felt more... adult. at 30 years old, i guess i should have felt that way for years. but just 6 months ago, if i had friends over and everyone left only having had 1 drink, i probably would have thought there was something wrong, that they didn't really like me or want to hang out with me. but friday as i was soothing gobbles to sleep and realized it was only 10:30 and the house had already emptied, i was completely at peace. in fact, i was already exhausted and happy that i could get a good nights' sleep! note to my friends: this doesn't mean i always want to go in early, i can still party like a rockstar if needed. i swear!


saturday we woke up to the sun streaming in, a picture perfect day. we had a bit more hosting to do before the day was completely ours. see, earlier in the week we got a call from the priest that baptized gobbles 3 weeks ago. he said he typically likes to come to house blessings after baptizing the little ones. we arranged for saturday at noon. we were a bit nervous as to how to act and what to do, so we put out a few bites and leashed up the bad dog. he arrived right on time and didn't even mind when the spoonsie bear jumped on him in greeting. (maybe we should have leashed both, eh?).


it was a nice little visit, we just discussed random things and thankfully he didn't even ask how often we go to sunday mass (um twice a year. i'm a horrible catholic). when we were discussing high school / college / seminary school, i felt old for the second time in 24 hours. the priest is 26. ha. now there is a wierd feeling. i know that i should be intimidated since he is a priest, which i view as authority figures, but that kind of left when we found out his age. sure, he looked young (my sister said at the baptism "what a waste of a good looking guy". this same sister also gave up being catholic for lent), but surely not younger than us? after the blessing of the house, as well as a bonus blessing of the animals, father was on his way, leaving hubs and i dumbfounded about what crazy denial we had been in about our age. the priest was a cool guy though, i didn't realize until later that he actually said "ohh, prendie girl", like in that voice that alludes to the fact that it was called whore house on the hill. are priests allowed to do that? so, all in all the visit left me telling myself, yea, time to get back to going to church regularly.


the rest of the day saturday could not have gone any better. hubs and i went for a nice stroll with gobbles and the dogs, then hung out in the backyard drinking coronas and grilling ribs. it almost felt like a little vacation, with the perfect weather and perfect company. just what we needed to recharge before the return to work. 12 days. tick tock tick tock.


oh, i almost forgot! gobbles rolled over completely for the first time today! of course by the time i grabbed the camera he realized that rolling over results in tummy time (which he hates), so he would only go halfway for the camera:

A lot can change in a year, part 2: The next 9 months

One year. one year ago today, my life changed forever. i found out i was pregnant, and this time i knew it was different. the test(s) showed a strong positive line, and the positive came many days earlier than they had in january. my husband and i were cautiously optimistic. a few days later i had an OB appointment which confirmed our hopes - i was pregnant! they wanted to do an ultrasound to determine my due date, but of course it had to wait a little bit - as i had to go to california for work.

santa cruz county is just south of wine country, an area i've always wanted to visit. but not alone. and certainly not pregnant. i don't mean to sound unappreciative of this trip, it was certainly the best hotel i've ever stayed at for work. but they gave me a 2 story oceanview villa with a full kitchen, 3 bathrooms, and 2 bedrooms. for me, alone. ok technically i wasn't alone but nobody knew this yet (well, except for hubs, my soccer coach, and the weight watchers man). anyway, i walked in after working all day, still jetlagged from the early flight, and started bawling. i was going to be in this beautiful place for 10 days, with no one to share it with, and couldn't even have a glass of local wine to enjoy it! i even called the front desk to see if they had a smaller room. they told me i was crazy and said sorry but no.

as the week wore on things got better, and on the weekend i made the trip to the monterey bay aquarium. i felt foolish but giddy telling the baby about everything i was seeing, spent way too much time looking at the penguins, then headed back and strolled on the beach. i was almost smug, everyone i encountered didn't know just how awesome i was feeling inside. i spoke on the phone with my mother a few times, and as much as she interrogated me, i really didn't want to tell her over the phone. see, i had a plan - ordered adorable doggie bandanas that said "big brother in training" and "i'm going to be a big sister". they were so cute!

finally i got on the redeye home, walked into the house and promptly declared how disgusting it was that it smelled like dog. in all the years of owning them i've never noticed the smell before, i realized i truely was pregnant! that afternoon, the time had come, the ultrasound! it was amazing to see the little dot that the tech pointed out was our baby, and the small faded blink that was the heartbeat. we were told i was 5 weeks, 6 days, and that my due date would be the saturday after thanksgiving. hence the name gobbles was born.

for some reason that weekend hubs had to go visit his family and i hadn't planned on going with. so when he departed shortly after the ultrasound, i found myself on the phone with my mother. again, she pushed, and interrogated. over and over "you're pregnant, i know it. you're acting funny. just tell me you're pregnant". "fine", i told her, "you win, i am pregnant". i hadn't wanted for it to be so anticlimactic, but it was still good. she was so excited and nervous that she volunteered to come clean my house for me, not wanting me to run the vaccum. this is the same woman who didn't want me to have a surprise shower because she was scared "surprise!" would make the baby fall out. anyway, i took advantage of her paranioa whenever i could. thanks mom!

over the next few weeks i told my sisters (got to use the doggie bandanas on them!) and hubs family. after we surprised his mom on mothers' day, we started telling friends. all the while, i was spending an 8 week stint (sunday night out, redeye thursday back) in puyallup, washington, a small town 20 minutes south of seattle. one of the weekends hubs came out to visit so i wouldn't have to do the 6 hour flight, and we got to do the whole touristy thing, space needle and all. a night out to dinner confirmed that i was spending two months in the microbrew capital of the world and not getting to enjoy that part. anyone that knows me knows about my love of food, beer, and wine. these trips, combined with my newfound aversion to red meat (and inability to have sushi), made me think god was laughing at me. "you want a baby? you can have a baby, but i'm going to make you appreciate and respect what it takes to become a mother."

somehow i survived with limited sips of hub's drinks for the next 9 months. the remainder of the pregnancy was pretty uneventful save for a few highlights:

The Bad:

1) The swine flu! No, i never got it, but the damn media frenzy when it first came out was during the time i was crisscrossing the country on planes made me crazy. the worst of it came on one flight home. middle of the night about an hour into the trip, 5 hours to go. some old lady across the aisle starts vomiting everywhere. there were but 5 feet between us, and it was disgusting. the flight was full, so it could have been worse - i could have been one of those two people that she actually got sick on and had to get back into their seats to land. i spent the next week convinced she had given me the swine flu and something bad was going to happen.

2) A scare. i was somewhere around 14/15 weeks, still out in washington, having just told my work about gobbles the week before. i woke up one morning and i was spotting. i know this happens to some people, but it hadn't happened to me at all, so i got scared. i called my OB, and they told me to come in right away. i explained that i was on the other side of the country and she said do not to get on a plane before getting checked out. thanks lady, don't scared the knocked up chick alone as it is already. so i went to the nearest ER and sat for a few hours, some of the longest hours of my life. finally i got in to get an ultrasound, and there he was, kicking and waving, heart beating as usual. after a quick exam the doctor declared me good to go, and i was off. thank god!

3) i guess the weight gain, discomfort, restricted diet, peeing all the time, and all that can be categorized as bad, but there's no need to rehash all those details. they generally come with the territory.

The Good:

1) i was never alone. seriously, i loved walking around knowing that my kid was chillin with me the whole time. it was such a wierd feeling, but so comforting. this is the part of pregnancy i loved, and i can see why people say "oh i miss being pregnant". (note, i can see why other people say that, i mean, if i could be pregnant and not have any of those things stated in #3 above, sure, i'd do it all the time... but i don't know if i can say that i miss it). i even enjoyed the little "secret" i had before he was outed. i know of at least 3 occasions where i drank 'fake drinks' all night and my friends were none the wiser.

2) the anticipation. we got the nursary set! we couldn't wait to meet him! see him! hold him! double check to make sure it was indeed a him! yes, we'd had the ultrasound and it was unmistakably a boy, but my mother (again my mother!) was so convinced that it was going to be a girl that it had me a little hesitant. i am the type who loves looking forward to things, and this was a BIG one of those things.

3) the love all around. yes, this was going to be the first grandchild on both sides. the first baby among our friends. i was scared of heading into uncharted territory, that things would change, the relationships i had would wane. but instead, the sisters began fussing over him long before he was born, the grandparents, well duh! and the friends, they started getting knocked up themselves! ok well a few of them anyway. and i know i had nothing to do with it, but i LOVE that we'll all have kiddies the same age. just hope my giant baby doesn't try to eat their adorable little ones. and the non baby fever friends still did their best to include the pregs in their plans, which is all i ever needed.

4) the arrival! of course, this didn't happen until after... the ugly:

1) the only "ugly" part of the whole pregnancy experience was the end. weeks 41 and 42 of my pregnancy were something i'd never wish on my worst enemy. even the labor was "ok" compared to the agony of waiting. and waiting.

so much waiting that the final 10 days of my pregnancy deserve their own post.

so until then... here's to a great weekend everyone!

A lot can change in a year, part 1: The Buildup

if you had asked me a year ago today where i would be today, i don't think i would have been able to imagine all of the changes and excitement that were about to happen over the next 365 days. i mean, sure i was hopeful for certain things, but i was still in the "will it ever really happen for me" mindset.

i'm already ahead of myself, as i tend to be. let me go back to september '08...hubs and i had finally deemed this month our first "trying" month. "trying" for a baby, that is. we always knew we'd have kids, it was just a matter of when. when i started pushing for a 3rd dog in the spring of that year, we sat down and realized that the only thing that could properly fill this opening in our hearts was a child. we decided that we would start trying in the fall, because i wanted my maternity leave to be in the summer, and up until then, everything in my life had gone exactly. as. planned. ok maybe not quite that, but i was so sure that i'd immediately get pregnant, gain an acceptable amount of weight, and exactly 9 months later pop out a perfect little angel after say 4 hours of labor. HAH i say to my former self. HAH. you are SO naive.

so, back to september. the stage was set, i had been off the pill since july, and was ready to go. then, i got the call. from my boss. "gobblesmom, you have a passport right? good, you need to be in iceland for 2 weeks, k?". damn! ok, ok, ever the optimist, i told myself, 'well you'll get back from iceland and have one night at home before heading down to irish weekend with the girls, that will be near the middle of your cycle, there ya go!' i spent my spare time in iceland thinking about what a great last hurrah this is for myself before i get knocked up. during the weekend portion of the stay, i drove out to one of the nearby glaciers and hiked up to see it. "how cool that i could tell my baby one day that the week before s/he was conceived, i climbed a glacier". then i laid floating in the blue lagoon for hours just staring up at the sky, thinking about how strange these icelandic, elfish people around me were and how they had no idea i was so ready to be a mom. also, there were four (4!!) pregnant ladies at the iceland office i where was working- it was definitely a sign. they joked with me don't drink the water! i laughed along with them then ran off to refill my cup - maybe they were on to something!

obviously, despite what i thought fate was telling me, it didn't happen for us that month. over the next few months i found myself in exotic places like idaho, indiana, seattle, and new york during random weeks. this made things little difficult since we couldn't be one of those couples who did it every night for two weeks to make the timing right. therefore in november i started charting my temps, so i wouldn't get my hopes up on months i was away at the right time. and so i'd stop wasting pregnancy tests because i couldn't just wait for my period to be late like a normal person, thank god those dollar store tests work. i made sure to go to a different cashier each month when i bought at least 5.

fast forward to my birthday, in january of 2009. i was actually a few days late (so i had already gone through a half dozen tests, all negative). hubs and i were getting ready to go out to dinner and i thought hey what the heck let's see. then... omg is that a line?! i screamed, called him in, and we squinted at the test. "maybe if you hold it a certain way in the light" he said. i took another and there was, a faint line. my husband told me to not get to excited, because the line was so faint, but already i was bubbling - a line is a line! it was a great birthday dinner, i could barely eat. i already felt a little queasy in my stomach. this was it! we even stopped on the way home to get some non-dollar store tests. i took one when i got home - a faint line. deciding that the morning pee would be most potent, took another in the morning, another line! then i took a digital test. NOT PREGNANT it screamed at me. wtf, i thought, by this time i had the 5 other positive tests sitting there on the sink. (don't get my husband started on that. "ew get them off the sink, you peed on them!"). utterly confused, i started googling. one after the other, i was assured - there is no such thing as a false positive. and i was confident too, having taken so many tests over the previous months, i had never seen a hint of a line. now, there were all these tests sitting there saying positive, maybe the digital was a dud. unfazed, i started talking about my due date (early september), names, and more. the next day i called the OB to make an appointment. the first available was three days later.

before i even made it to that appointment, i started bleeding. i hit up google yet again. chemical pregnancy. early miscarriage. tears stung my eyes as i read stories of similar women going through the same thing. i sat there at work with my hair covering my face, so no one walking by could see. maybe just maybe i was the lucky one, and this was something different. but, in the back of my mind, i knew it was over. i kept my appointment, and the next day, and my fears were confirmed. i couldn't be comforted by the OB telling me that it happens to 30% of pregnancies. i felt like a fool for letting myself get so excited, this pregnancy didn't even make it 5 weeks (3 gestation). the next few days were a complete blur, i just went through the motions, keeping secret from everyone that i was devastated on the inside.

i had to go to kansas city the following week, and despite having one of the most turbulent rides of my life (they should NOT use those commuter planes for 4 hour rides. especially over the midwest), i still was not able to shake the funk. it took all my power not to cry when at dinner that night my coworker (always meeting new ones with this job) asked if i had kids.

after i returned from that trip my husband convinced me to tell my mom, sisters, and a few close friends, instead of keeping it bottled up. i slowly began feeling like myself again, and looked forward to trying again. the doctor had told me to wait a complete cycle before trying, so in the meantime, we booked a last minute cruise to get our minds off of everything. aside from this year with the baby, hubs and i love to travel, and always have some kind of trip or short getaway in the works.

i made sure to use this vacation to do everything a pregnant lady wouldn't - ziplining in st. martin, kayaking in dominica, revelling in the carnival (mardis gras) celebration in dominica, hiking the rainforest in grenada, snorkeling in barbados, rockin a bikini on the beach in tobago, and touring the bicardi distillery in san jaun. all of this while maintaining a weeklong buzz and enjoying every minute with my husband. by the end of the week i had a feeling of peace and knew what's supposed to happen will happen at the right time. as my dad had told me, just keep plugging. (ew really dad? did you even listen to what you said?!)

my new positive attitude, combined with a little luck, and obviously a little something else led me to the morning of thursday, march 19, 2009. i woke up, peed on a stick (as i had been all week), and got the first sign of hello from the baby soon to be named gobbles.

to be continued tomorrow...

that time of year

happy st. patrick's day to all! i have exactly zero irish blood but i am definitely an irish wannabe. i embrace the fact that my husband is (half) irish, irish where it counts - the last name! that makes little gobbles a whole quarter irish, which i will celebrate every march and september. though this is his first st. patty's day, he's already been through irish weekend last september when i was 31 weeks pregnant. please note this picture is from a good angle on a black shirt - i was extremely large at that point but the magic of photography is hiding it.

so, despite another night of 3 hours' sleep, i'm in a fabulous mood. it could be that it's saint patrick's day. or that i got to meet up with some friends who were playing hookey and have some morning guinnesses (guinni?). or that i got to chat with other moms at yoga about this sleeping habit and found out no matter what, it will not last forever. or that it is GORGEOUS outside. probably d) all of the above.

gobbles shat up the carseat after yoga, but i didn't care - i opened the sunroof! i got home and the house stunk most likely from piled up dishes in the sink. oh well, i opened the windows! yea i know the logical thing to do would be wash the dishes and clean the kitchen you friggan slob. but i will, i need a nap first. i just love that everything is being aired out.

can't wait until hubs gets home and we fire up the grill and cook some burgers. and i'll have another guinness or two ;)

the gift of sleep

does he look tired? he should be. it's official. my little boy is no longer sleeping through the night. in fact, we may as well have just brought him home from the hospital. he's that bad, and it's been a week. how could this be? i read babywise cover to cover, did the eat, wake, sleep cycles for months, and had him sleeping through the night (9 hours at a time!) at 10 weeks. how could it all just fall apart? i think i managed to get 4 hours of sleep last night, all in 45 minute spurts.

for once i know it's not hunger that is keeping the gobbles awake. it's the need to be soothed, to make sure we're still there. he stops crying the minute i get into his room and look over him. in fact, he breaks out into a huge grin when i get in there "Playtime!" his eyes scream with delight. maybe somehow he knows that daycare is just 19 days away (sigh) and is trying to embrace all the time he can get with me. the only thing way he's been able to sleep more than 2 hours is by bringing him into our bed, letting him chill on his boppy between our pillows. i know, i know, call CPS. this was one of the many things i swore i would never do when i became a mom. but just like eating at the table, watching my language, and simply showering daily, all plans are out the window.

last night we attempted to start the controversial ferber method, which is basically letting the baby cry it out for short periods (starting at 5 minutes each), then heading in to soothe. you're supposed to gradually increase the amount of time between soothings. i think it was much harder on me than it was him. somewhere around the 8 minute mark after the umpteenth time of replacing his pacifier, i lost it. i turned down the monitor hoping i couldn't hear him, but our walls are thin. so i gave up. i went in, scooped up my baby, and brought him into our bed, whispering in his ear how sorry i was and promising him i'd never do it again. yet here i am, as i'm writing this, watching him fall asleep on the monitor and hoping he'll actually nap. i've depended on the swing so much for naps, but the poor kid is running out of time to learn to fall asleep on his own during the day, or else he'll never nap at daycare.

i now understand why there are so many spoiled kids out there. listening to your child cry is the most painful thing in the world. it'd be so much easier to just pick them up, use a temporary fix to stop the crying. i think this sleep training thing is as much to train the parents to not respond to every little whine as much as it is for the child to soothe themselves.

well, gobbles has started to cry, and it looks like i've failed again this morning, because i'm off to pick him up and cuddle with him. i'm so sorry son, i love you so much. hopefully momma will be a little braver tonight.

weekend downs and ups

i didn't sleep much this weekend, not because of the gobbles man, but due to the rising anxiety level starting in the pit of my stomach. i'm sure most of this is because the clock is ticking on going back to work, but the rest is the worry over late summer, when i'll be so busy my head will surely take off in another dimension. i love to anticipate stress - a major part of my problem is when things are uncertain and i don't have a grasp on them yet, i tend to freak out a bit inside until they's set.

i have 4 weddings over a span if 8 weeks between august and october of this year, plus another in november for good measure. and two, those of my sister and sister-in-law, are as important to me as my own was. along with these events of course come showers, bachelor / bachelorette parties, , etc. and somewhere in that mix add two baby showers as well. now, i am not complaining at all - in fact, i LOVE events like this and wish they could be all the time, but i'm also the type of person who hates saying no and missing out on the fun. with all of this happening in such a short time, i'm afraid of overlap and not being able to please everyone. and on top of this - hello - how do i keep my then 9 months old son, who will be in daycare full time, reminded that he does have a mommy who loves him very much, if i'll be doing something every weekend for months?

and it's already begun - hubs has a bachelor party the night of one of the weddings. the party is for one of his college buddies, who he was so close to at one point that he was actually in our wedding. do i be a good wife and let him go, and i take on the wedding alone? the wedding is that of a cousin who i'm not that close with anyway. or do i put my foot down and demand that the whole reason i got married was never having to go solo? i made a deal with him - he can go to the party if he drives to the wedding i choose so i can let loose and have a few. see - i'm easy to please.

now that all that mash is out of my head - onto what made this weekend great overall!

1. at weight watchers i made my first weight goal! after gaining 45 lbs (ugh) during pregnancy, i had a lot of work to do. i started ww at 5 weeks postpartum, already down 16 lbs from my peak baby weight (so preggers me minus giant baby, placenta, and fluid, plus dozens of christmas cookies). this weekend, 9 weeks later, i weighed in at 17 lbs less than that (total down 33). this weight is a milestone to me because i've been here before. before i got pregnant i was on ww, and this was my starting weight. so now i'm psyched because i KNOW my body can change from this. i've got 2 more goals - 12 lbs - the weight i was when i got pregnant. and 20 lbs - the ww lifetime member goal. can't wait!

2. i had so much fun dress shopping and lunching with the aforementioned sister and the bridal party. and we extended the day into family dinner at her house to celebrate her birthday! gobbles came to the second half of the festivities and was in a good mood - always making things better. it was just a great day of family QT which i don't realize i miss until we get to hang out.

3. we got to meet the latest addition to our family of friends, a beautiful little girl just 2 weeks old now. her momma is looking fabulous, and her daddy is overjoyed, brimming with excitement, and spewing information from various parenting magazines. if you know him, you'd expect nothing less from him! their lil peanut is so adorable, and so alert and active already. we all got a good laugh at the giant gobbles sitting next to her, thinking about how there is so much growing in the first few months.

4. i had not one but two soccer games, one at which i had a goal! don't laugh, goals are so rare for me that i actually jumped up and said "oh yay!" like a giddy 8 year old after i scored. but more importantly, soccer provides the escape i need each week to shake out my mind and body of whatever is weighing me down. i come home with that good kind of sore, and a few bruises, re-energized and ready to face the week.

so, if you've made it to the end of this post, you'll see that despite the goings on in my head, i'd definitely call this weekend a success. in fact, all of the 'downs' have nothing to do with the weekend at all, just some points in the future, and when they actually occur will be 'ups' anyway! well, this blogger has just learned over the course of composing this post - stop worrying about the future, things will work out as they will. concentrate on the present, because it's just awesome.

everybody poops

let's talk about poop. don't be offended, let's talk about baby poop. see, instantly i've gone from discussing a taboo bodily function to something people cheer about. you can really do that with anything - turn something bad into something great or adorable by just putting the word baby in front of it. baby kicks, baby drool, baby boogies, baby crocs, baby sweater vest. see. awwww.

but i digress. i really would like to talk about my son's poop. (or do i just like typing the word poop? only takes 1 finger!).

before he was born, we were fully prepared for our little bundle of joy with both newborn and size 1 diapers waiting when we got back from the hospital. we stocked up on a generic brand because we've got connections to get them, cheap. apparently you CAN be overprepared, and some babies can be name-brand snobs from the beginning. gobbles is one of them. we tried the generic brand diapers and he leaked all over, no matter what kind of waste he was making. the only thing that seems to work is pampers swaddlers, not even huggies could do the trick.

granted, after a long buildup he'll still go up the back or out the sides, but it occurs the least in the pampers. i don't understand why they make onesies white, because i'm pretty sure they all have little stains on the back at this point. oh our poor second child!

anyway, the main reason i wanted to post about poo, was that i made a discovery. now, i did some googling and i'm not the only one to figure this out, but it's so weird and interesting that i figured i'd share. i used to feel so helpless watching my son struggle when he's constipated. so uncomfortable, and working so hard. until now. the bumbo chair (see pic from this post) is a secret poop machine!! at first i thought it was coincidental that every time i put gobbles in he went at least a little bit. but now, i'll put him in when i think he needs to go.

this morning i woke up and checked my little itzbeen (could someone pay me to plug these products??), and realized it had been nearly 24 hours since gobbles last poo'd. he was acting a bit fussy so into the bumbo chair he went. we hung out for a little bit, then he started to get cranky. sure enough, i took a whiff - could have just pulled him out of the chair and looked since it went up the back and thru is clothes - but there it was.

sure, dirty diapers and messy clothes are not a pretty part of being a mommy, but i'm sure even this part i'll miss someday.

oh, and another warning if any future moms are planning to use this easy relief method - it comes out both ends so have a bib and spit cloth ready!

the other kids

did i mention i have two other kids besides gobbles? well, not human kids, but those of the canine persuasion. most people wouldn't go as far as calling their dogs kids, especially after having a baby. but, i think over the past 3 1/2 years i've humanized them so much that i kind of ruined them. well, one of them anyway. our guy cannoli is so spoiled, that he made himself sick over having to wear a special leash for our walk yesterday. first, a little background.

when we were newly married, we decided to start our little family right away by getting a puppy. i had seen welsh corgis before and thought they were just about the cutest things ever, like little stuffed animals. we wanted to rescue, so onto petfinder we went. now, unless you're looking for a more common breed, purebred puppies are hard to find in a rescue. so, we settled on a teeny little corgi / beagle mix. he was born at a rescue and was the only puppy of his litter that did not die of parvo. he was our new baby, and boy was he smart. we crate trained him, got all the commands down, and even taught him to ring a bell when he needed to go outside. i picked him up and hugged him and cuddled with him all. the. time.

then, his little personality started developing. the bell became his temper tantrum - whenever he would do something wrong and we'd yell at him, he'd run into the kitchen and knock the bell across the floor. he'd lick us to death trying to get a treat because we used to say "good boy licks" to get him to stop biting. i had made such a fuss over him and given him praise for sitting, shaking, etc, that he now assumes everyone who comes in the front door is his best friend and should give him attention accordingly. he also stamps his feet when you make him stay and wait on his mat for dinnertime. then, we got him a playmate.

spoons (aka the bear), is our dog dog, a beautiful german shepherd / corgi mix (her poor poor mother). a "true rescue" i call her, we got her from a rescue that pulled her from a kill shelter. she was picked up in the woods with one of her pups and given an expiration date. before my husband even opened the listing i emailed him with this information, it was already unavailable. thankfully, a few hours later she reappeared listed under a rescue, so we applied right away. she's gentle, submissive, sadly pretty afraid too (if only i could get my hands on her previous owners those jerks).

the first night we had spoons she broke out of her crate while we were out, because you just cannot cage the bear. thankfully, she's never made any kind of mess, except the time she managed to get into a ceramic turkey full of nuts on the dining room table. that doesn't count as a mess anyway though because she placed both the bowl and the lid neatly on the couch when she was done eating!

so, cannoli's first reaction to this second dog was to pee on her bed, then pee in his crate for a week to prove his point.... so far, i haven't seen anyone pee on gobbles but gobbles. anyway, after cannoli got used to spoons things were ok unless you were paying more attention to her than him. then cannoli would run over and kind of shove her out of the way with his hips.

the reaction to the baby has been a little more muted since the dogs seem to be afraid of him of now. but they are much worse in their attention seeking - so a general warning we give visitors - be prepared to be attacked with ass wags (cannoli doesn't have a tail so he wiggles his whole butt) and puppy kisses. and they now sleep on top of us in the bed instead of down at the foot. after all, the only alone time they get with mommy and daddy is when the strange little man is in his cage (crib, people, jeez) in the other room. even the dog training we enlisted when i was pregnant kind of went out the window because of all the baby attention. mental note to get back to it.

ok - coming back to yesterday. it's hard enough to walk two well behaved dogs while pushing a stroller, so two "pay attention to me", bark at anything crazy dogs is even more of a challenge. because of this, i use a walking tool called the gentle leader (a leash that goes around the dog's muzzle) to help me have more control over cannoli. when he behave spoons will follow suit. cannoli HATES this thing, because he cannot pull in any direction he wants. when i put it on him, he lays down and pouts, then tries to rub his face in the grass to get it off.

this particular walk, he worked himself into such a frenzy that towards the end of the walk he actually threw up. twice. i know he was not really sick because as soon as the leader came off, he was fine. that is my dog, cannoli the drama queen. will resort to anything to get what he wants.

i am terrified. the way cannoli behaves is a direct result of my parenting. (i can't even pin part of it on hubs, he's the disciplinarian). i know he's just a dog - dogs are dogs and people are people says my mother - but he's so spoiled. i love him to pieces and i think that's what did it. in less than 4 years, these dogs completely dominate me, and they know it. i'm sure cannoli assumes that since he threw up wearing the gentle leader i won't put it on him. i've got to buck up and get a little tougher before mr. gobbles picks up on this! what if he ends up being a brat? ... nah, it'll never happen... right?

3 Months!

I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

As long as I'm living

my baby you'll be.

-Robert Munsch

dear mr. gobbles,

well little man, we've hit a milestone, you're 3 months old today. has it really been 90 days (and nights!) since your daddy and i first met you? you still seem so brand new to me, even though you've almost doubled in size already. i just want to freeze everything, and have you remain like this for a little while longer.

you talk (don't know what you're saying, but i'm sure it's along the lines of "mommy you are my bestest friend"), you smile, you giggle. you look around the room for me when you hear my voice. you get a smug, relieved look on your face as you poop your pants on my lap. you look curiously at the dogs and they eye you with the same curiosity right back. you hate tummy time and scream like you're being tortured until you're flipped back over. you snort as you stretch waking up from a nap. you snort from excitement when you're about to eat! and all that jersey shore watching during your first few weeks helped you perfect the fist pump.

last night when i was done feeding you, you looked up at me and grinned, raised your fist, then stuck your thumb in your mouth and started sucking. when you did it again this morning, i asked your daddy if i should pull it out or let you go with it. he smiled and said we're not going to be able to stop you, and if you're going to need braces someday then you'll need them regardless. i think he is just as much a sucker for you as i am. we'll learn to say no when you're a little older, i promise (it'll be for your own good!).

each night when i put you to bed, i imagine that i cannot possibly love you more than i do at that moment, but somehow each morning i wake up and see you smiling up at me and am overcome with a feeling that today i love you even more. and those nights that you do sleep through the night (two in a row this week!), as grateful as i am, i still wake up and check the monitor, wondering if you'll be asking for me or not. i'm sure when your sleep becomes regular, there will be a teeny part of me that misses our special time at night. when the entire world is sleeping, silence all around us (except for daddy's snoring on the other side of the nursery wall), and it's just the two of us, ready to face whatever tomorrow will bring us.

well, you're starting to wake up from your morning nap, so it's time for us to start the day.

i love you so much,
momma

ps. you may recognize the quote from that book i read you once called Love You Forever. i love the quote, but the story itself is pretty creepy, so you probably won't hear me read it anymore. and i promise no matter how much i love you, i will not sneak around to give you hugs after the age of 8. (ok maybe 18 but come college i swear i'll let go!)

getting my feet wet

uhh, hello blogworld... i'm sorta new at this, not really sure what's going on. i thought i'd be a little more comfortable doing this since i've been reading so many friends' blogs forever now... but it's strange to be on the other side of the keyboard. i feel all exposed but i haven't said a word yet. let me preface this whole thing by saying i'm not a writer, and i tend to speak faster than i can compose a clear thought in my head. so, there will be a lot of poorly structured stream-of-consciousness throughout my posts. oh, and i love comma but hate periods, so LOTS of runons in your future - sorry for that!

while i type, my son snoozing in his swing and judge judy on in the background (not really watching, fox just stays on all day after our morning dose of wendy williams, our current favorite lady!). i have a month left of leave before i start back at work, and i want to capture every minute of it. it's gone by so fast, i don't want to look back and wander what the heck happened during the first few months of my son's life. so, i'll start somewhere in the middle and talk about the beginning some other time.

the weather finally broke sometime over the weekend, and not a moment too soon. we've been cooped up for awhile now, only getting out for baby yoga or random trips to the store. so despite a cold and impending sore throat, i saddled up gobbles and the puppies for a nice long walk. side note - i'll be affectionately calling my baby gobbles from now on. he was due thanksgiving weekend, but arrived almost two weeks late. more on that another day. it was great to get the brood out for some much needed fresh air and a little sun - they seemed to have calmed the boy down a bit.

see, up until last week, he was role model baby - eating great, gaining weight like a champ (maybe even more so), and started sleeping through the night around 9/10 weeks. then, a week ago, bam. up every other hour to eat, scream, do anything but sleep for more than 2 hours. fine, a growth spurt of sorts. a few days after that, just in time for the weekend, he just started seeming miserable. i consulted my trusty google pediatrician since it was a friday night, and came to the conclusion that he is teething. at 12 weeks. yea seems early to me too. so all weekend that was my excuse for his behavior. i have told myself time and time again that i will NOT be a crazy paranoid first time mother and call the emergency line just because he was a little more fussy than usual. so i did what any mother would do, let it play out the weekend, and accepted an invitation out for drinks with some girlfriends leaving my baby home with my husband. i swear i'm not a selfish jerk, husband got to go out during the day and i was only gone 3 hours. and i really did need to get away, it took all my might to not start crying the moment i walked into my friend's place because i was so happy to get some normalcy if just for an hour or two. i returned home to my frazzled husband telling me how gobbles screamed for 2 hours straight. the look on my husband's face mirrored the exact way i felt all week. i don't think he knows how much i appreciated the escape.

anyway, to ease all our worry, last night he finally slept through the night again, and today he seems pretty pleasant. but, though i can see them on the gumline, the teeth haven't poked through yet. so, either a)he's used to the pain now, b)it's not over, and he was just so exhausted that he had to sleep last night but i'm in for it again tonight, or c)he's not really teething right now and i'm a horrible mother for googling his symptoms instead of rushing to the pediatrician at the first sign of an unhappy baby.

i'm sure i'll figure it out. or, i'll just give him cereal which is the solution my mother tells me for everything the baby does.

well, looks like i didn't just get my feet wet, i jumped right in! and just to clarify that gobbles wasn't completely miserable all week, just fussier than usual. see - he was laughing as well! more happy baby stories to come!