Mama of Two

We arrived at the hospital at 5:30 am yesterday. After changing into my super sexy hospital gown and answering a battery of questions, I was hooked up to an IV and the fetal monitor.

My in laws arrived at about 6:30 to keep us company. My step mother in law was engrossed with the baby's heartbeat. It was going from about 160 bpm to 120 bpm every few minutes.

Guess what? I was having contractions. Which I think is pretty awesome for two reasons...I could hardly feel them AND whether or not we had chosen the date for the planned C section, yesterday would have been baby's birthday.

At 7:30, I was wrapped in a blanket and shuffled across the hall to the OR. I was sick with apprehension over getting my spinal. I sat on the table, clutching a pillow, tears streaming down my face. B held my hands and the anesthesiologist talked me through the procedure. The worst part? In all honesty, it was the anticipation. My anesthesiologist was a total rock star. I started having major anxiety because I couldn't feel my chest raising when I took a breath, and she showed me that if I placed my hand on my chest while breathing, I could show myself I was, in fact, taking big, full breaths. It was like magic. Seriously.

The surgery began, and at 8 am on the dot, our beautiful daughter took her first breath.

And screamed. Best sound ever.

As I write this, she's snoring softly next to me.

She has a head full of dark wavy hair. Deep, dark inky blue eyes. Long, delicate fingers and toes. Her Daddy's full, heart shaped upper lip.

In a word? Delicious.

I wondered what she'd look like as I carried her around in my belly. Now I look at her and I can't imagine her looking any other way.

Tomorrow, we go home. And begin life as a family of four. We are complete now.

This little angel beside me was our missing puzzle piece.

Just Add Baby

I saw my doctor for the last time yesterday before we meet again in the O.R. on Monday. The appointment went well. Except for when he had a sharp intake of breath when he measured my belly. I am measuring 42 weeks. WHAT? I'm delivering a little shy of a week early.

I've got a big baby in my belly! Doc guessed close to 9 pounds. Feel free to add your guess in the comments. Please DO NOT guess how much weight I've gained. Or I might have to track you down and scratch at your face.

If you're wondering, the nursery is finally (CLOSE to) done. Done enough, I guess. The walls still need a little something. And I could have organized the drawers a little better. But considering the state my house was in last weekend, I'm feeling pretty good about what we've accomplished, and there wasn't too much yelling involved.

Also? G is happily settled in his new room and doesn't seem a bit bothered that he has been displaced by the baby.

We'll see if that continues next week.

So finally, here are some pics of the nursery. I pieced this sucker together on NO budget. Lots of hand me downs, lots of re purposing.

And I'm totally okay with that. In truth, it's more gratifying to pull something together out of almost nothing rather than just order an entire nursery out of a catalog.


The bedding IS from Pottery Barn; my lovely sisters and mother-in-law gifted us with this set at my shower. I adore it. So bright and cheerful.

We re-covered G's glider with watermelon hued minky dot fabric. I really wanted to paint the glider white, but never got around to it. The pieces on the wall were originally corporate art from my old job. They were being thrown out and I rescued them and covered them in quilting fabric.

We ditched the changing table idea and went with a regular dresser. I don't like changing tables much, they seem like such a limited piece of furniture. This dresser is from Ikea. The pad had non-skid material underneath.


Baby shoes. Love.

And the only stuffed animal I bought for the little (warrior) princess. I couldn't resist. The colors were too perfect and I adore the whole owl trend that seems to be everywhere in nursery decor.

Three days till we meet this little babe!

P.S. If anyone has any ideas for wall decor, let me know. I already thought about putting her initials somewhere, but they are C.R.D.

Which is a little too close to crud for my taste.

Missing Pants With Waistbands...

Okay, truthfully, I am missing pants.

We are t-minus six days till delivery and I can no longer deal with waistbands of any variety...regular OR maternity. And lets not even talk about shirts. Nothing is covering the belly at this point in time. I've slipped into the realm of maxi dresses, tunics and leggings.

Folks, I'm huge.

Yes, the water retention I'd staved off for so long has reared it's ugly head. Hello, cankles! I will say I'm thankful they waited until now to show up. I remember sitting in the tub at 7 months during my first pregnancy and screaming out to my poor husband, "Get in here!"

Poor guy came racing in to me pointing tearfully to my legs.

"I have elephant ankles," I sobbed.

And from that day on, it was all about the Crocs for me. That was all I could shove my poor swollen feet into...and was a GREAT look for work where I was required to dress office casual.

So this time, I'm trying to take it in stride. This too shall pass, hopefully at the hospital, in the form of pee or sweat...

I'll tell you what I'm not looking forward to - losing the baby weight. After my son, I didn't even really start losing the weight till a YEAR after he was born. And even then it was a struggle. Honestly, the factors that finally helped me drop the weight were: losing my job, caring for my dying mother in law, quitting breastfeeding after two years and training for a half marathon.

Two of those things I don't care to repeat. Stress as a diet is not a great option, trust.

So on to the ending breastfeeding - you might be like "Well, doesn't breastfeeding help you lose weight?"

In a word (or two) : eff no.

I am in the lucky .05% of women who hang onto pregnancy weight while breastfeeding. At least that's what my doc told me. Maybe he was just trying to soothe my borderline PPD.

Regardless, I will be breastfeeding this baby. I'm hoping against all hope that this time around, I can be one of those bitches who breezily says "I breastfed and the weight just evaporated."

I'm looking at you, Gisele.

Otherwise, running, here I come. Just call me Forrest Gump.

Twelve Days & I'm Officially Panicking.

Please standby for a nervous breakdown, in:

5. The nursery isn't ready.
4. My house looks like it vomited on itself.
3. Did I mention the nursery isn't ready?
2. My three year old is sensing imminent and huge changes in his up until now blissful and unchallenged princedom. It's not going well.
1. And yeah, the NURSERY IS NOT FREAKING EVEN STARTED.

So.

I'm kind of going back and forth between acceptance and HUGE, irritable 'I'm 38 and a handful of days pregnant and things aren't just the way I want them and someone MUST PAY' rage.

I know my body is ready to be done being pregnant. I hurt everywhere. I have heartburn so bad that it makes my ear canals burn when I belch (which is all the time). Clothes are uncomfortable and I may start wearing caftans. Mrs. Roper chic...it's the hotness.

Mentally, I'm not ready. For some reason, my surroundings - i.e. my house - have to be completely prepared before I will let myself accept we're bringing another baby home. Logically I know that she's coming home no matter what and will not care if all she has is a bassinet, clean diapers and a boob.

But I care. Mucho.

Tomorrow, I have my second to last OB appointment. Yes, folks, this baby is coming whether I'm ready or not. And the way I'm carrying? I have a sneaking suspicion she may come early. Hold on, little girl. I need you to stay put till May 9. Do not deviate from the plan.

Looky here...mommy and daughter already butting heads. Yikes. Hopefully not a sign of things to come...

I Love Sugar But This is Ridiculous.

I am sitting in the waiting room at the OB with three other pregnant women. We are watching the Ambush Makeover segment on The Today Show and all of us are crying.

In our defense, it's a really happy/sad story (they made over a woman suffering from MS who is wheelchair bound).

Oh, hormones.

So, I'm not just hanging out at the doc for fun. No, I'm here cause I flunked my first glucose screening. As of this moment, I am a little over halfway done with my three hour screening. What does this entail? Fast for twelve hours, get blood drawn, drink a God awful glucose drink, which I'm pretty sure is similar to what they put in hummingbird feeders, wait an hour, have a blood draw, wait an hour, have a blood draw, wait an hour, final blood draw.

Did I mention you can't eat? And that the Today show featured Paula Deen this morning?

Baby girl is going absolutely insane from all the sugar. It's a orange glucose drink fueled dance party in my uterus.

This test is to determine whether or not I have gestational diabetes. Fingers crossed I pass this test!

In the meantime, I am meticulously and obsessively planning what food I am going to hoover in exactly two hours...

Purge 2011 aka I'm Crazy Pregnant

In a little over three months, I will have a newborn. Scratch that...I will have a willful, 'busy' three year old (whom I adore) AND a new baby.

What was I thinking? Panic is setting in.

How do I deal with panic? Apparently, this time around it's manic organizing. Like today. Today I went through my spice cabinet. Chucked a ton of stuff. Things I never use (whole coriander seeds?) that I'm not sure I even bought, maybe they came with the house? Spices that didn't smell liken anything anymore. That can't be good.

Then I got really crazy. I pulled out my giant box of photos from high school, and purged it by half. Yes, I tossed photographs. Which is generally against everything I believe. But I've got the pregnancy crazies, and by God, I do not need 30 out of focus photos of my sophomore prom date.

A side note, I found a receipt from The Gap in that box from 1994, for a pair of jeans. Guess how much they cost?

$34. I kid you not.

Anyway, I'm kind of scaring myself. I'm worried I'll end up throwing something important out in one of my fits. Then again, it would probably be wise to just roll with this newfound ability to shed unnecessary crap. Since in real life, I'm a few boxes of twist ties away from Hoarders.

Late Breaking News: Va Jay Jay Wand Works!

So I'm reading the title to this post and it sounds a lot like I'm writing about a sex toy. But I'm leaving it, cause I want people to be all disappointed when they come here to perv out and I'm talking about the gender of my unborn child.

You all are sick. Sick, I say!

Anyhow, I'm very late getting here to report that we are, to the relief of many family members, having a girl child. And don't get me wrong, I'm beyond thrilled. Over the moon (gag). But I have to be honest...all the boy hate had me a little up in arms and indignant.

Moving on, though. Moving on. I'm a little over halfway through this pregnancy. I don't know if it's the extra girl fetus estrogen, but I have to admit, I've been a weepy mess. Yeah, I know pregnant ladies are emotional, but I can barely even turn the television on these days without getting verklempt. Have you seen those 'Foundation for a Better Life' spots? Brutal. BRUTAL.

My little G has been sick since Sunday. There is nothing worse than the look of terror on a little kid's face when they throw up. I think he's on the upswing. Now here's to hoping I don't get sick. Where's the Purell?

This little post is going to be, well, little. Cause little dude is waking up from a nap and I've got to resume coaxing him to eat. Next up?Popsicles. For him too.

It's Almost Christmas and I Haven't Kicked Anyone (Yet)

Something very strange is happening to me this year.

I'm enjoying the holidays.

Maybe it's because I actually feel pretty prepared this year. I don't think I am actually more prepared than usual, I just decided to give myself a break this year.

It probably has more to do with my son actually getting excited over Christmas this year. He loves the tree and is showing it by letting it remain upright, rather than pushing it over and removing the ornaments. We read 'The Night Before Christmas' every night, and he has it memorized. He plays constantly with his nativity scene. We went and saw Santa and he was SO excited he actually behaved.

It is so cliche, but so true. Reliving Christmas through your children can somehow smother the Grinch.

Admittedly, I'm still dreading some family functions, but honestly? There are relatives I dread seeing no matter what time of year. Like the one who eyeballs me in horror and wonders out loud how I've gained so much weight (uh, I'm pregnant?). Or the one who compares my son to her grandchild who is three months younger and potty trained and why isn't G potty trained and you really need to get him potty trained before the new baby arrives.

I would like to add that that particular relative will bombard me with this 'advice', then in the same breath add that her daycare potty trained her child because she couldn't handle it.

And then, we have the numerous family members who are obsessed with me having a girl this time round. Not even joking, I think they will be literally angry with me if I have a boy.

I'll see what I can do. Monday is the 'big' ultrasound, so maybe I can wave my magic wand and guarantee a vagina.

If not, I'm seriously considering calling in sick to a few upcoming functions.

Not to Complain, But...

So I've already gone over the barfing. Which seems to be subsiding (knock wood).

But dude, this pregnancy has been so completely different from my first. Which was mellow and relatively easy.

I think it's a dirty trick. Cause now I have a toddler to chase.

A toddler who likes to run into the bathroom while I'm vomiting and turn the light on and off as fast as he can. Nothing makes barfing more enjoyable than doing it under a strobe.

My first pregnancy, odors bothered me, but not to the point where I'm nearly homicidal over my dogs standing by me (THEY REEK) or where I'm tempted to punch the lady in the grocery store who bathed in White Diamonds.

About a month ago, I went insane and decided I needed to deodorized the carpet in the living room. I used a powder for 'pet odor'. It was described as a 'fresh scent'.

For me, 'fresh scent' brings to mind clean air, fresh laundry, you know, stuff that has a pleasant aroma.

Arm & Hammer's idea of 'fresh' is more like junior high boys locker room...musky and sweaty and foot fungus-y coated in cheap spray deodorant and a touch of Drakkar.

The next week of my life was devoted to getting the 'freshness' out of my carpet. Incessant vacuuming. Then I steam cleaned. Twice.

It's almost gone, but once and a while, it will waft up from places unknown and I want to burn the carpet and all the living room furniture in a big bonfire in the backyard.

So my nose is going crazy. I wonder if I can get my hands on some of that stuff medical examiners smear under their nostrils while performing autopsies?

Just a thought.

I'm Going to Try to Write This Between Dry Heaving (Urp)

Blogging has been on the dead bottom of my list for a while. I've clicked over here, looked around for a minute or two, thought about writing something. left.

It's hard to write about stuff when you've only got one thing on your mind and you're not supposed to talk about it.

But as of today, I'm talking.

I'm pregnant, knocked up, in the family way. About 12 weeks, so just about in my second trimester.

And I am so ready to be in the glorious second trimester. That promised land where you're not supposed to feel like you're dying every waking second. This pregnancy has been NOTHING like my first. My first, I had a little nausea, but nothing that couldn't been soothed with well timed snacks.

This time? Well, I'll put it this way...my OB gave my a prescription for the same nausea meds they generally give to chemo patients. On top of that, unbelievable fatigue - so bad I could literally lay down in the middle of the living room and sleep after only being awake for a couple of hours. And dizziness. And headaches.

It's been the pits, for serious.

But I see light at the end of the tunnel. The other night I told my husband, well, it will end. Maybe not till the baby is out, but it will end (please God, let it end SOON).

Of course, the drastic difference in this pregnancy has led to all kinds of speculation on the baby...IT'S A GIRL. Or, are you sure it's not twins? Yes, I had the doctor triple check. So unless someones really good at hiding, the Nugget is a singleton.

I'm calling it Nugget, by the way. For now.

So, there you have it...I haven't died, though to be honest, some days I've thought the end is near. I won't be such a stranger. Promise.

Now excuse me while I go sip on some damn ginger tea.