Milestones for my little thumb sucker

In 22 hours I will be lying on a bed, looking at my baby on a monitor and probably bawling my eyes out. 

My heart just skipped a beat thinking about it.

Aside from being over the moon excited about seeing baby again, I’m also excited at the prospect of finding out whether baby is a he or a she. I held out the entire 40 weeks with my boys. It was exciting and beautiful and I’m really happy that I did it.  But this time I’m a little older and on a little tighter budget so I’d like to be able to plan ahead. From the day we found out about baby I’ve had mixed emotions about the gender. My mother's intuition really is telling me it's a boy. Is that because I am afraid I'll feel differently if it's a boy and I don't want to have guilt?? I don't know. Everyone says “I just want a healthy baby”, but really, what do I want? Of course I want a little girl!! I live in a house full of boys! There is so much testosterone pumping in my house I occasionally forget that I’m a girl, myself. My manners tend to go right out the window because I know that no one will say anything if I burp or fart or forget to put my dishes in the sink. There a million things to love about my boys but the one thing that bothers me is that they don’t really get me. I’m artsy and crafty and driven by my left brain tendencies. I want to sing and dance! I want to have pajama parties and paint my toe nails while watching sappy chick flicks for the millionth time. I want to make homemade Valentine’s Day cards and cupcakes and I want someone to want to do that with me. My boys all want to play on the computer or break out the Nerf guns and Legos. While there’s nothing wrong with that (I also like Nerf guns and Legos), that’s all there is in my house. Dirt, farts, noise, rough housing, slamming doors, toilet seats left up, dirty clothes on the floor next to the laundry chute, skid mark underwear, Modern Warfare on and off the screen, dirty socks in the kitchen, R2D2 in the bath tub, way too much man soap, Diary of a Wimpy Kid booger posters, slime on my basement floor, and 15 jars of unidentifiable objects placed strategically around the house (I’m convinced for their amusement and my astonishment). I need quiet and soft and cuddly for a minute, man. So yes, I really, really, really want a girl. But even if there’s another little boy in there…I’ll still be over the moon excited.

This ultrasound tomorrow will also serve as an opportunity to see what my lovely uterus is up to. I hope she is no longer up to no good. What is this “you’re too big for your britches” business anyway? I know there’s only one baby in there. I’m not even slightly concerned about that outcome. And it’s not the first time little miss “I can do what I want because I’m housing your growing baby” has decided to gain a few pounds without notice. Back in 2010 the good Doctor got to know me inside and out while he scoped out my innards, searching for answers to what was ailing me. He discovered I had Adenomyosis. Basically cysts growing in the muscle layer of my uterus. Fun, huh? He said I’d live but that I should get on birth control to stop the formation of the cycts. Otherwise, the only fix was to get fixed. Hysterectomy. He and I were on the same page with my decision to try the birth control. Who wants to trade one set of miserable circumstances for another, right? I was too young for that crap anyway. And, I was not entirely sure I was done trying for another bambino. Doc said it wasn’t impossible though I may have some trouble conceiving if the Adenomyosis was too bad. Well as the world knows, I didn’t have trouble conceiving. I only had trouble maintaining. So the little bundle I’m now carrying is nothing short of my miracle. Thanks to the powers that be for giving me and my family this wonderful, beautiful, amazing, blessed and longed for opportunity.  Now, if those powers could just keep a hand on me for the next 24 hours…I’d really like some good news tomorrow. If the Adenomyosis is back or flaring up it could mean preterm labor.  I’m just going to say a little prayer really quick….

Holy time warp, Batman! Has it really been 14 weeks already???  2^nd Trimester!!! Wooooo Hooooo!! I totally just said that in my best Spider Man voice in my head. You just re-read it and did the same thing, huh? He he. Anyway, Saturday, February 2^nd I will be 14 weeks and officially in my second trimester. This was once an unimaginable milestone for me. Though I spent most of the last 9 ½ weeks crying and puking, I also found out just how strong my heart really is. The fear of going through another loss is something almost impossible to avoid when you’ve been through it 3 times already. And before I get too wound up in the heart strings…let me just say that this little survivor is the absolute BEST reason for me to keep my head above water.  My little love nugget (good one, huh?) is the size of a lemon right now. That is ridiculously amazing. I have a lemon in my abdomen right now. My adorable sweet and sour little ball of thumb sucking goodness is growing like wildfire!! Wiggling their little fingers and toes and making their own pee!! I’m so proud!! I just can’t wait until they say “I can wipe my own ass!!” Ok I can’t wait. I want to savor (poor choice of words after the ass wiping comment) the time I have to cuddle and squish and smooch on my little munchkin before he/she gets too independent.

Talk about making changes. Right now our babies are of the furry persuasion. They still sleep most of the day and they love us even after they get in trouble. And although they shed mad amounts of fur and smell up my furniture, they are pretty low maintenance. They are our best friends. I’m wondering how they’ll react to a real baby around the house. They love my sister’s girls when they come over. Josie is usually scared out of her mind when Baby sniffs at her.  But Baby just loves Josie!! Lol Max, on the other hand is probably the one we’ll have to worry about for a while. He has little man’s syndrome. If it’s not all about him, it soon will be. He gets so scared the only thing he knows how to do is get mad. I’m thinking it’s a male thing. No offense to any guys reading this…but you really only have one emotion most of the time. Maybe I shouldn’t call it anger….how about…aggression? Yeah, that fits. I’m sure you’re sitting there saying, “Oh yeah, well the only emotion you have is being 'bitchy’”. And we’re pretty good at it, huh? Now go fix something. *smoochies*  Honestly, I don’t want to get into the Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus theories right now.  My husband is a saint and I love his manly aggression. I was just trying to stir up controversy…I mean, make you giggle. So Max is a typical male. He tries to dominate every situation he’s in…and if he’s not in it, he’ll try to get in it just so he can dominate. Once his ‘aggression’ gets the best of him he just wants to be cuddled. I just hope that he doesn’t get aggressive around baby or I’ll have to chop what’s left of his nuts off.  I’ll take a little cue from my cousin Tiffanie and maybe start pushing around a stroller with a baby doll in it, just to get the canine’s in the habit of seeing that we love someone other than them…well….in addition to them. I do love the stinky fur babies. I don’t know what else to do to prepare them. Anyone have a baby I can use? Wait, that might not be good. Never mind. I don’t want any law suits. Maybe I’ll stick to the baby DOLL idea for now.

26 more weeks and we’ll be lovin’ and smoochin’ on our brand new butter bean!! Now that I’m pretty much on the tail end of this morning sickness business, I just need to find a cure for all this heart burn!! Good lord I had no heartburn with Gabe and do you remember that kids hair??? He looked like a Chia Pet!! Stuck straight up off the poor kids dome! There was no taming it! Grandma always said if you have a lot of heartburn baby will have a full head of hair. There’s so much I don’t remember about pregnancy, like can I take Tums for heartburn??? I guess I should make a list for Doc tomorrow. 

Well, cross all your fingers and toes, wear a belt, braid your hair, wrap your scarves, and wear shoes with strings that tie….baby Silver and I need some hope and prayer tomorrow!!! 

A Brand new beginning

I need a brand new beginning.

I am 37 years old. My oldest son is graduating from high school in 5 months and leaving for boot camp shortly after. My youngest son is 11 years old and not far from starting junior high school. My 10 year wedding anniversary is this fall and my husband will be turning 40. It looks like I'll be doing a lot of planning in the coming months. 

When I think back to what life has brought me in the last 37 years I can't help but smile. There have been a lot of ups and downs, and lately what feels like more downs than ups. I lost my father in 2010 and my grandfather in 2011. I suffered my 3rd miscarriage in August last year. The economy has really taken a dive and my job is no exception. I've struggled with the idea of going back to school or at least looking for a different job where I could work a little less but not take much of a pay cut. Good luck with that, right? In today's economy, I'm lucky to even be working. Barry has been struggling with his job too and it shows, every day. But again, at least he's working. He's trying to get into Chrysler. That's moving along...at a slow but steady pace. Let's just keep our fingers crossed on that one for a while longer! 

After my last post I wasn't sure what I was going to do with this blog. I had all but given up on my reproductive organs.  And after reading my last post, I didn't know if our dream was ever going to come true. After our loss in August we talked about making one last effort. There was a lot to discuss! We decided that if we didn't get pregnant by New Years Eve, we were done. He was going to get fixed so that we didn't even have to think about it any more. I was going to do it...but he insisted that his overall recovery would be shorter and less painful, so he would be the one to have a procedure done.  Man, I love him. Mine. All mine. 

I knew that deciding to try again was a big decision, in a lot of big ways.  Our biggest fear, of course, was another loss.  If we succeeded, our biggest fear was being too old to enjoy this child's teenage years. Who enjoys that, anyway?!?! I kid. Barry was more.....IS more worried about that than me. He worries that at school functions people will think we're the grandparents. First of all, I don't care what people think. Second of all, I plan to be plenty young (still) when this child gets to high school. If you know what I mean. I knew that we could get pregnant. That was never the problem. Staying pregnant was the problem. So I called Dr. Gibbs and told him we were trying. He asked if I wanted to make an appt. to talk about some things that might help. I declined. I told him that this was in God's hands. If it happened, it happened. And if it didn't, we were done. In September I started reducing my coffee intake, and for anyone that knows me you know that was a definite challenge! I tried to eat better and stay on my feet more, attempting to be more active. Toward the end of the month I decided to start taking prenatal vitamins.  I was reading forums and blogs and articles about trying to conceive, hoping to up my chances of conception for that cycle. Well, it didn't happen in September/October.  The next cycle I started taking Mucinex. Believe it or not, it's a fertility aid. I won't get into the details, but it really works. I took it until the day I think I ovulated (released an egg). Aren't you glad I told you that? I started drinking more water back in September and continued through October and November. I started keeping track of my basil body temperature but ended up fighting some phlegm, which made it nearly impossible. After a week or so of tracking and calculating I decided to stop 'trying' and just have fun. :-) I figured I could take a pregnancy test as early as Thanksgiving Day. The day before I got 'ants in the pants' and couldn't resist, so I tested. I got a faint positive. They say 'a line is a line', but I didn't trust it. I tested the day after Thanksgiving and it was a little darker but still faint. At this point I was hopeful but calm. I scheduled an appointment for a blood draw because I knew that was the first thing I needed to know. What were my Hcg levels? First draw they were 87. It wasn't exactly a strong number...but it did mean that it was a positive test. Two days later, the numbers went up to 237. And a week after that...12,095! Music to my ears! 

Here I sit, 12 weeks and 4 days pregnant with my little rainbow baby. I won't deny that there have been moments where I feel that fear creeping in again that something bad is going to happen. I already had an over night scare in the hospital, being dehydrated. The morning sickness is atrocious with this pregnancy! Everyone keeps saying it's a sign of a healthy pregnancy but if you've ever experienced a loss, you know that doesn't really matter. I had an early ultrasound that showed a tiny baby and a heart beat of 112, even though I could only see the heart beating.  I was over the moon!! About a week later I had another ultrasound. Dr. wanted to make sure baby was growing like he/she should be. That time I heard the heart beat. 141 bpm!! At this point the morning sickness had kicked into high gear and I could barely keep anything down. I haven't been able to drink water for weeks. I can't eat red meat or pork. I can't eat anything with a lot of spices in it, even pepper. I have to stay pretty bland with my diet. I have to eat something about every hour and a half or so and I have to keep Gatorade by my side 24-7. Around 11 weeks I had a Dr. appt. and told him I was nervous because I was so sick all the time. He said the good news is that if something bad were going to happen, women who are in danger of miscarriage don't throw up and bleed/cramp at the same time. So I guess it's true. As long as I'm puking, it's a healthy pregnancy. 

My last appointment was a little scary too.  I just love my Dr. though. He did a physical exam and said my uterus was measuring bigger than it should for 11 weeks, 5 days.  I told him it can't be that my numbers are wrong about when we conceived because I have been tracking and calculating and I know my body far better than I'd like to right now. So I joked that it could be twins. When he agreed with me I almost fell off the table! Now the odds are against us a millions ways to one. But it's still possible.  I'm doubtful. I have a condition that was diagnosed in 2010 that I think might play a part. If it does, it could mean preterm labor.  So Dr. says to me, 'let's take a listen to baby, just for shits and giggles'. I couldn't believe he said 'shits and giggles'.  But I'm not offended.  It was hilarious. He scheduled an ultrasound for 2 weeks out....which I thought was a little odd because he made it seem like something he wanted to know sooner than later. When I asked he said by the time we did the ultrasound I would be starting the 2nd trimester. Again, music to my ears. I guess it's a good thing I bought a home doppler so I could listen to baby's heart beat at home.

I'm hoping at this next ultrasound to not only hear a strong heart beat and see a beautiful growing baby...but maybe since I'll be 14 weeks they can take a good guess at what I'm having. Once I know that I'm safely into the second trimester and baby is doing good...I can start shopping!! Woo hoo!!

So this has been my new journey for the last 4 months or so. My life as been nothing short of a soap opera. I've overcome adversity many times in the last 37 years. I've fallen and I've gotten back up.  One thing I've never done is give up.  If my father did anything right in his life it was to raise his kids to fight for what we believe in, follow our dreams and never give up on the pursuit of happiness.  Many times I've questioned "why me" and I've been blinded by hurt and fear. But I've never given up. In August we will add one more reason to fight, one more reason to follow our dreams and one more reason to never, ever, ever give up. If you are still reading, thank you for being a part of this journey.