Wrong Seat

So, yesterday I plopped myself down on a bench at a large retail store while waiting for my mom to pick up a gift from inside.  I wasn’t allowed to know what the gift was, and so I obliged by resting my feet and much hurt calf muscle. 

I smiled nicely at the woman sitting next to me.  She was obviously an employee who worked there.  We made light conversation about the fact the sun was out, and how nice it was.  Then I asked what I thought was a safe question, “So, have you finished all of your Christmas shopping?”  “No, it’s against my religion,” she informs me.  “I’m a Jahova’s Wittness.  Are you familiar?  Here is some literature…blah, blah, blah, and more blah.” 

Crap, crap, crap.  I run from all religious solicitors who come to my door.  Trust me, it’s for everybody’s benefit.  I don’t want to be preached to. I have much respect for all religions, and my uncle is, in fact, a Jahova’s Wittness.  It was just my luck yesterday.  How does one politely bow out of such a conversation.  Can’t we go back to commenting about how cute her shoes are, and how many bags that lady has, or that poor woman who has to work a twelve hour shift today with a bump so big she could deliver at any moment?  I’ve never been so thankful to see my mom.   I smiled cheerfully and thanked her for her company.

Anyway, I have finished cookie extravaganza 2008.  I am having my husband drop off some additional goodies to his work today, swing by this girl’s house this evening, and guess who I get to see on Christmas day?  I am so excited (as are both of my parents)!

I have so much packing to do before Christmas arrives.  We leave on the 26th to Missouri to see family, and to celebrate my grandfather’s 80th birthday. 

However, my real issue is this.  I have hurt my calf muscle somehow.  I have been having pregnancy related calf pain for a week or so. I’ve upped my potassium, banana anybody?  I’ve also been drinking a bunch of water.  I’ve soaked in baths.  Nothing has helped.  It hurts like a son of a gun.  It’s just my left one, but man it certainly does make carting a nearly 30 pound toddler and enlarging self  difficult.  Any other suggestions out there?

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!

Today’s OB Visit Results

I passed my glocose test (my current meds are doing the trick,) but failed the anemia test.  I am anemic.  So, I walked out of the office with a prescription for iron supplements.  To be honest, I was completely shocked!  I’m not sure it’s even humanly possible to eat more red meat than we have in the past six months (considering I can’t stomach chicken, turkey, or ham.)  Alas, it is what it is, and I’m not concerned.  It does however explain why I can barely keep my eyes open past seven thirty.

We did hear the little one’s heartbeat strong and steady.  My fundal height was one week ahead, and not much of concern to the OB.  There was very little else to report on this very routine visit.  Our next visit is on the same day as our next ultrasound (the 16th of January.)  I will be getting the rhogam shot then.  After that, we will be going every two weeks to the doc. 

Right now, I’m off to chew on some more Tums as I’m battling some insane heartburn. Ow and yuck.  Then, I’m going to allow my toddler to tuck his mom into bed.  Pitiful, I know.

Yep.

I have nothing of great interest to say today.  That is surely a great opener that will immediately grasp your attention and beg you to read on further, eh?  Seriously, by this time of the year, most everybody is busy chasing their tale in one way or another.  Either you are shopping for gifts, wrapping those gifts, or giving them.  If none of the above apply, you must be at a Christmas party of some sort.  Amazingly, I have already gotten the gifts, wrapped them, and have no parties to attend.  So, all I have to do these days is wait around for Christmas to actually arrive.  Crazy, I know!

Life with Braden is constant motion.  He climbs, you yells, he plays, he runs, he does it all over again.  I wish I had just a sliver of his energy!   The internal child is practicing her gymnastics as well. So, there is much movement in our home.

We still have cookie extravaganza 2008 to do.  Our bazillion cookie doughs are made, and the baking should commence this weekend.  This is our latest ever to complete them. 

I’m tired of the rain, and want the sun to come back out.  Then we could at least go for a walk.  It’s been warm, but far too wet.  I’m not complaining though, it’s better than snow (in my book.)

That seriously about covers it.

IV.F Me.ds

Anybody in need of E.ndometrin (progesterone) vag.inal inserts (100 mg) and/or V.ivelle dot (e.stradiol trans.dermal patches)?  Please drop me a line for details.

You can come home now.

Ok, so my parents have been out of town now for nearly a week, and I’m ready for them to come home now.  It’s not the same without them around.  Not only do I miss my mom for her lifting of the son power (which doing so alone is killing my back,) but her daily presence.  I miss both of my parents’ friendship, the playing of cards, eating together, and the general nuts and bolts stuff we all tend to tackle together around these parts.  I’m ready for them to come home now.  No really.  They return tomorrow, and I know we’re all excited to see them!

Up for review…

Today I went all domestic goddess and made stuffed cabbage and snickerdoodle cookies.  I carefully placed all the ingredients on the counter along with the necessary tools to create.  I called my mom whose on vacation this week in Florida and asked, “So, how exactly do I make stuffed cabbage again?”  It would have helped to not have been in the bathroom when I got the answer to this question.  However, I made a mental note of the recipe.

Somewhere in the mixing of the meat and rice, Braden started screaming and carrying on about not having my devoted attention.  He latched onto my leg and started shaking it.  I could almost hear him saying, “Moooooommm, I’m booooored.  Hurry up! Please!”  So, I quickly snagged what I thought what was what my mother said, and put two heaping tablespoons of it into the mix and moved along.

Fast forward to dinner time and both Braden and I are hungry.  I scoop up one of the cabbage rolls with excitement.  I cut into it and take a big bite.  What I got was…crunch, cruch, hoooooly shiiiitttt this is freakin’ hot!  Turns out I put chili powder in (as per my cookbook,) when I should have put ginger in.  I used a tablespoon (ok 2) when I was supposed to use a teaspoon.  I used long grain rice (as per the cookbook,) but should have used instant.  I jumbled the recipes because I couldn’t remember my mom’s exact instructions.  So, I got hard rice and heck of a lot of spice!  Needless to say, we had pizza for dinner tonight.

My position as domestic goddess of this household is currently under review.  Let’s hope I don’t get the pink slip just yet!  I think the excellent snickerdoodles might have saved my job!

Lesson learned.  Write things down, wait until Braden is napping to become domestically creative (especially in the kitchen,) and always call and double check the recipe with mom even if she is on vacation!  Mental note made written down.

Do you know where I can find…

So, um, do you happen to know where I can find a size thir.ty e.ight F bra?  (Did you cringe too?)  I’ll take nursing if you know where, but any sturdy one will do!  Yikes!  This is yet another cup size during this human growing experiment I have going on.  Just don’t tap me from behind, soon I just might fall over.

Nobody told me.

So, um, well we went through the unpleasantries of pregnancy there in the last post.  Remember the part where we mentioned the muscle aches, pains, and even the whole peeing when one sneezes, coughs, or laughs too hard?  Have no fear, my pelvic floor muscles are on an Olympic athletes exercise regimen to hopefully circumvent that whole last issue that I curse at every occurrence.  Cross your fingers we can at least get a bronze medal in that department.  Sheesh.

Others fine women pointed out that you are keenly aware of your body and all that’s going on with it.  True.  However, I felt that going through infertility and treatments had already accomplished this for me.  I think it allowed me to know the good tug from the bad kind at six weeks when I started bleeding like a mad woman.  I instantly knew, this = bad.  Alas, we are still kicking around over here, thank heavens.  I whole heartedly agree that it is insanely cool to grow a human and that watching a child grow is amazing.  I personally (and I stress personally) wouldn’t mind skipping this whole pregnancy business and get to the placing of the child in my arms part.  Perhaps this is why we make excellent adoptive parents?

Yesterday, this small one was standing up and down like a normal human and tap dancing on some unknown portion of my body.  Hard to explain what it felt like, but rest assured there were FREQUENT trips to the bathroom.  I know it wasn’t my bladder.  It felt more like my cervix or ureters, but not sure if that’s possible since I didn’t go for my master’s in anatomy.    While really interesting and kind of neat, I think I could have lived without experiencing it. 

I do enjoy the fact that I’m pregnant.  I make no bones about that.  Hell, you don’t spend $25,000, go through IVF multiple times, and use donor eggs and not get some sort of pleasure from the experience!  I guess mine is more of an awe of what a human body can do.  I stare curiously at the successive ultrasounds and marvel at her perfectly growing parts.  Every day I am thankful that it has passed without incident.  I find it fascinating how my body has changed, and watch the scale creep every so slowly upwards.  It’s not that I mind.  It’s all part of the experience.  I scratch my head as I find myself really craving certain foods and vehemently hating others.  Pregnancy is an experience like no other.  It’s certainly a masterpiece in the making.

Yet, I feel that same awe when I look at my son.  I held his tiny little self in my arms, only he was the product of another woman’s aching hips, knees, and peeing while sneezing.  I’m not patient, and 40 weeks is a loooong time!  We were certainly spoiled by the in four hours surprise you are going to be parents today placement of our son.  Yes, there were months of work prior to it, but it didn’t involve weight gain, stretch marks, or peeing myself in any way.  Nope, the only ache we had was in our hearts. 

We got a masterpiece, and now we’ll have two.  I guess I’m very thankful to have experienced both roads we have traveled, and we celebrate the journey that brought us to both of our children.  To me, it isn’t so much about how you become a parent, but that you are the best one you can be once you are one.

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

I know, mature.  I just want to say that those people who claim they loooove being pregnant are either insane or lying through their teeth.  Yes, yes, it’s a miracle and all.  I mean, after all, if I had the power to widen women’s hips and thighs at will, I’d be beyond super hero status in my book.  Yes, I’m talking about you crazy pregnant chick wearing spiked heals saying you might very well should look for a medium just in case, while looking all en vogue while trying on tres chic maternity wear.  Gag.  Allow me to slip off my Nikes now and massage my damn hip and knee. 

Ok, back to what I was saying.  What was I saying anyway? 

I had a wonderful birthday, and thank you all for your well wishes.  I did so enjoy having birthday cake.  However, despite the love affair, I banished the cake to my husband’s second wife work, to avoid further spreading of previously mentioned hips and thighs. 

Those of you struggling to get pregnant and are still reading thus far, thanks.  You will be happy to laugh when I tell you that my toes are in much need of painting, but I’m uncertain as to whether I am capable of reaching them without passing out due to lack of oxygen as I attempt to scale my Everest sized chest then over the boulder resting on my bladder to find my Flintstone toes.  It’s just natures way of making sure you are serious about this pregnancy business.  Kind of like what toy manufacturers  do when they package their toys.  They’re just  checking to see how serious you are about the parenting business.  Can’t open the box?  What you can’t assemble the toy?  Hand over the kid, slide down that chute, and hope to find a ladder soon.

Well, as you can see this is a sleep deprived type post.  No, Braden sleeps just fine.  It’s me that doesn’t.  Nature is cruel in that it prepares you for the sleep deprivation that comes with a new human in your home by kindly waking  you every two to three hours while pregnant to empty your squirrel sized bladder that simply must get rid of it’s tiny trickle of nothing in the middle of the night.  It makes for good times.  All I have to do is crawl my way around the three thousand pillows in bed, sit up real sllllooooow to avoid passing out, and then pretend that there is no hip/joint/knee pain going on, and sit down on a very cold toilet seat (yes, must remember to buy curtains for our huge glass block window in our bathroom,) and what was I saying again?  Pregnancy brain.  It’s not just a rumor, it’s real.

Ok, off to bed.  I feel so lame.  Can’t even stay up to watch Grey’s these days.  I’ll catch it on the dvr tomorrow.  Night.

29

Yaaay!  It’s my birthday!  I’ve lost many family members far too young, and at that point you realize that life is just too short.  So, each year on my birthday I am thankful not for the hand that I have been dealt, but for the opportunity to get to play it!