Making Plans

When I was pregnant with Will, and just after he was born, I got cocky. Well, maybe not cocky, perhaps, more hopeful. I was hopeful that my body, now having carried a baby to term, would suddenly know what to do with embryos and that my husband and I could drink a little wine, have a little s-e-x, and end up with a baby.

Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen.

While I know that chemical pregnancies are pretty common, and that this last one could have just been a fluke, I am tired to being on the wrong side of statistics. I don't want to keep going through these flukes, especially when we have five perfectly good totsicles sitting on ice at our REs. It's just too emotionally wrenching for all of us.

I do realize that chemical pregnancies and miscarriages can easily happen after an FET. However, I am really hoping that we will get one RLB out of our five frozens.

M and I had tossed around a lot of different ideas for when we wanted to do our first attempt for Baby #2. Now that we have had another early loss, we have decided that sooner is better than later. We have decided that a September FET would be perfect, so I am not hugely pregnant in the late summer months again, and so they will be a little less than two years apart, should we be lucky enough to get - and stay - pregnant the first time.

So, there you have it. September sounds so far away, but it's really not. It's going to fly by.

Sharing the Hurt

Will and I take a walk with a girlfriend and her daughter almost every day. She was one of the three friends that I told about my pregnancy.

Yesterday, we were walking and talking about the odds and ends of parenting. Sleep schedules, eating, discipline, etc.

Then she asked me, "And how are you feeling?"

And she meant it. She really wanted to know how I was doing. Best of all, she listened when I answered. I didn't have to give the stock answer, I was able to speak from my heart.

Granted, we told very few people this time around, but even when we have told a lot of people in the past about losses, genuine interest in how we deal with those losses is extremely rare. People are sympathetic, but they are also uncomfortable talking about it. I don't fault our friends, but grieving silently is so very lonely.

There are little things that help me to heal. A brisk walk on a sunny day, a friend who truly cares, comments on this blog. Those are all things that help me to heal my heart.

Thank you.

Aftermath

I am having a harder time with this latest loss than I thought I would.

Probably the first and foremost reason is guilt. I had a lot of mixed feelings about bringing a second child into the mix so soon. I remember telling M that I would feel like an A**hole if something happened. Well, something did happen. And I do.

In my heart, I know that I would have loved a second baby to distraction, but I was very worried about how we were going to handle it all. I felt joy at the prospect of another baby, but I also felt what can only be described as utter terror, wondering how I would handle the gamut of the newborn days on top of life with a toddler. I know ambivalence cannot make a miscarriage happen. If it could, the earth's population would be substantially less. But I still hate that there were any misgivings about such a miracle.

I also think that this loss stirs up memories of old losses. I have been going through old blog posts and rehashing those feelings. For the first time in months, I opened the miscarriage basket, my intent being only to put away the pee sticks and sweet card that M had gotten me for the occasion. Instead, I ended up crying over the basket for a good hour, going through all of our little memorabilia from so many lost pregnancies.

I know the medical majority considers a chemical pregnancy to be a blip in the reproductive life of a woman. I have had doctors tell me that 50% of conceptions end in chemical pregnancies and that women in their childbearing years will have a chemical pregnancy every three cycles. I kind of don't agree with that, since most women I know who are actively TTC start testing really early. And no one I know has had that many chemical pregnancies . . . not even me!

I know there are people, friends and family included, that don't see this as a miscarriage, as a loss, as any reason to be sad. Believe me, I know this. We didn't really tell anybody about this pregnancy anyway, since it happened so fast. Even those that we did tell were sympathetic, but briefly, and then, life goes on.

Even I don't think that a loss at 4 weeks is the same as a loss later on. I minimize my own feelings, trying to tell myself that I am being silly, that it's time to move on.

But my heart is still aching today. The cramping has already subsided, the bleeding already slowed way down. It's almost over. And I am still sad.

Gone

If you have never had a chemical pregnancy, you might not understand the relief that I felt this morning, at 3 AM, when I started to finally bleed bright red blood.

It is not heartlessness, rather it is the desire to finally be able to grieve the loss of this little life and then try my best to move on. When you are stuck in the Land of Unknown, as I have been this past week, it is nice, even if the answer isn't good, just to know what your future holds.

There was a part of me that had fantasized that, once I carried a baby to term, my body would finally know what to do with these little embryos. But it was never that my body didn't know what to do with a pregnancy. It was that my eggs are immature and nothing genetically good can come of that. Even in a medicated IVF cycle, less than 50% of the eggs retrieved were mature enough to even attempt to fertilize. So, who knows what kind of eggs my body tosses out when left to its own devices.

Everything aside, however, I am just sad. I am sad for all of the little angels that we have lost.

To my sweet Angel Baby,

Your daddy, brother, and I miss you already. We are sorry that you will not be coming to play with us in January. I love you with all of my heart.

Love,
Mommy

Fading Fast

Thank you, everyone, for your love and support. I feel as if I have been on a pretty decent emotional rollercoaster these past few days. I am drained and worn out. First, there were the symptoms that made me stop and think, "Hmmmm." Then, there was the spotting that made me think, "Never mind." Then, the spotting stopped, I calculated that my period was late and again, "Hmmmm." Then, the series of faint positives before Friday's dark positive. I scheduled a beta for this morning and with no more spotting at home, I got hopeful.

Last night, I had a couple of swipes of faint pink staining. This morning, there was more on the TP. I took a pregnancy test (the first since Friday) that was so faintly positive that even my eyes had trouble seeing it. Seeing as the test on Friday afternoon was boldly positive, this is not good news. I have been through this too many times to think positively. Spotting, fading pee sticks. . . the handwriting is on the wall.

Of course, I feel guilty. This was a very wanted baby, but a very unplanned one as well. I had some mixed emotions about it, though part of me feels that was just me going into a bit of self-preservation mode. I always had the fear that this would happen and didn't want to get too attached.

Thanks again for the love and support. I am sad today, but I am still grateful for all that I have. We'll be okay.

Thoughts

Yesterday's pee stick is darker than the day before.

And the spotting has stopped.

I will be going in for a beta on Monday and then on Wednesday to see what's going on.

This wasn't exactly planned, so I am not sure when I ovulated. I can't even quite remember what CD 1 was. Yeah. I hate that we have suddenly become one of those people.

I have a lot of emotions coursing through me right now. So does M. We are surprised, shocked, hopeful, overwhelmed, scared, excited, terrified, nervous. . . and these feelings change quickly. We are both still processing the idea of having "two under two." M is less nervous than I am about how we will manage two small kids, and has pointed out the benefits of already having everything we need.

He does have a point. We always wanted two children and while this may be a little sooner than planned, we had given a lot of consideration to trying for a FET in August, so it's really not that much sooner. The unexpectedness and the timing aren't really our major concerns, anyway. Make no mistake about it, this is a very wanted baby.

I think we are both feeling a sense of "Will this really happen?" I don't think either of us really thinks that we can carry a pregnancy to term without all of the bells and whistles that we had going for us last time. So many of our pregnancies have ended in tears that we still very much fear the same thing happening again. We had so many false starts, so many times where we got our hopes up, got attached, and then the bleeding started.

Also, as I have shared here, our relationship has not done as well with the trials of parenthood as I had been hoping. I am worried about the pressures that a pregnancy and second baby is going to add on an already stressed situation. I already feel as if I am doing as much as I can and yet fall short of the expectations that I have for myself and that M has for me. He is already working as hard as he can and there isn't a lot of extra time for him to help out. We are both stretched thin already. . . where is the extra time and energy going to come from?

I get so sick in the first trimester and I worry how I will be able to care for Will (I know that I somehow will do it, I just hope not to be as sick this time). I also worry about how he going to handle being a big brother. He's got it pretty darn good as the only show in town right now. How will he feel about sharing the limelight? Of course, in my dream fantasies, he and New Baby will be so close and the perfect playmates for each other, but I know reality might be far different. He is bound to have some trouble with the transition. We all are.

There are so many thoughts, so many fears. I feel a definite sense of "WHY?" There are so many people still waiting for their first miracle. . . why do we get a second one? And are we really getting that second chance or am I am getting ahead of myself?

Can we do this? Are we going to be okay? I am really pretty scared.

One day at a time.

Familiar Territory - Edited

Okay.

Deep breath.

I have a secret, Dear Readers.

Well, it's not really a secret. It's more of a. . . well, it's an unknown.

What we have here is something very familiar and yet still so very strange.

We have a series of very faint positive pee sticks and brown spotting. Implantation spotting? The beginning of yet another end?

P.S. I am still on the mini-pill. I thought that was supposed to prevent things like this from happening?

End of An Era

I had posted awhile back that I was pretty certain Will was starting to self-wean. It's been three weeks since that post, and we are down to only one "real" feed in the morning.

He enthusiastically latches on for the first feed of the day, gulps his milk down in less than ten minutes a side, and that's it. I am still trying to nurse him when he gets up from his morning and afternoon naps, and he is having none of it. He will latch on half-heartedly and then bob off and on for a few minutes or do the taffy-pull with my nipples as he looks around the room for something more exciting. . . which is pretty much anything these days. He has been having a bottle at the bedtime feed since he was a newborn and he is barely taking 4 ounces from that bottle anymore and that's only if M really forces the issue. He is eating his regular solid meals like a champ, including drinking water from a cup, so I think he is just done.

When we were away from Will and I pumped at those times, I only got two ounces of milk from both breasts, so I am not sure if it is a case of chicken vs. egg, but my supply is pretty much non-existent past the 7 AM feed.

I gave some thought to trying to pump and get my supply back up, but I think it's just forcing my body to do something that he is trying to give up. I know self-weaning is normal and that it is actually better for me emotionally that he is choosing to end this relationship. If he was still All About the Boob, I would have a hard time taking it away from him and probably would nurse him longer than I wanted to and possibly become resentful.

So. . . with a lot of emotions flooding through me, M and I have come to the decision that we will not force the issue (as if we could, right?).

I am officially dropping the afternoon feed as of today, though I will still try to get the last morning feed in for another week, then drop that, too. We will just be down to the one feed until he loses interest in it or his 1 year birthday, whichever comes first. I am going to stop pumping milk during the evening feed and we will just use what we have in the freezer and then phase that last bottle out as well, probably in the next month, or earlier, if he chooses.

This way, the memories are positive and the experience was good. Should we be blessed with another baby, I would definitely want to try breastfeeding again. I am so glad that I did it, that I stuck through it during the bleeding nipples, jaundice scares, the up-every-hour nights, and everything else. It wasn't always easy, but I am so glad for the experience. I know that we had it easy and that it isn't possible for everyone to do it, but it worked for us, and I am so grateful.

If you haven't yet left your parenting advice, please do so at this post. I am really enjoying reading everyone's comments. I am going to type them all up and put them in a cute little book for her. Thank you for your insight!

What You've Learned

One of my friends is due with her first little one in three weeks. She is in that place where the excitement, the fear, the unknown, start to collide.

She asked me for some advice, which was flattering, since I feel like a rookie in every sense of the word. I didn't really know what to say offhand, so I told her that I would think on it and get back to her.

So, I am asking for your help, Dearest Readers. Please leave your absolute BEST parenting advice in the comment section for me to compile for my good friend. I will also put all of the answers in a post in a few days.

Thank you!

The Day After

How was my first Mother's Day (well, first with baby outside of my belly)?

In a word? Perfect.

There has never been a more perfect Mother's Day, not in the entire history of mankind. I doubt any Mother's Day following this one will be able to live up to it.

Seriously.

M and Will outdid themselves on my behalf.

First of all, I had a delicious little baby boy to love on. I mean, seriously, did I need anything else but his sweet baby face. . . his little baby laugh. . . his slobbery baby Wisses? No, but I did get more.

We started the day off with my gifts. I wasn't expecting much, us being on a single income and all. But I had two gifts to open.

The first was from M. It was a beautiful Mother's necklace in sterling silver. Absolutely gorgeous.

The second was from Will. It was a "painting" that he did with his Daddy's help. Framed in blue, done in blue, his two hands immortalized in finger paint forever. I loved the necklace, but I cried when I opened the painting. And then I laughed as M described the "fun" they had making my creation. . . oh, and the blue paint droplets I had been finding everywhere in the kitchen suddenly made sense!

I had two cards to open, as well. One from M and one from Will, even signed in his own "hand."

Then, we took a five mile round trip walk to McDonald's. Yes, I am a Mickey D's breakfast lover. It is so bad for me (especially given that I am still trying, largely in vain, to lose my infertility weight), but I love it so. M teased me for being a cheap date (I even used a coupon, so our breakfast was $7), but I loved every bite. I figured the walk offset some of the calories. We even jogged some of the way.

And did I mention that the weather was gorgeous?!? Blue skies, not a cloud in sight, around 65 degrees at 10 AM? Amazing.

We came back after that, and Will and I hung out inside while M washed our cars and did some garage cleaning. I didn't do anything. I had things I could do, but besides spend quality time with Will and feeding him some lunch, I did nothing. Will took a 2 hour afternoon nap and I continued to do nothing, just lounged around.

Then we went to get Will's first hair cut at an overpriced kids salon. But it was worth every penny. The lady was great with him, even when he cried. He got to sit in a car and play with toys and I sang to him when it got to be too much. Of course, I cried a little when they got out the clippers and buzzed his neck area. I was reminded of a little old man and thought about my baby growing old. Sniff, sniff.

After that, we did a bit of "fun" grocery shopping (as in we only shopped for frivolous things that sounded good, rather than the usual stuff that we need) and then headed home, where M proceeded to BBQ some amazing grilled lemon pepper and buffalo (two kinds!) prawns. I had a glass (um, or more?) of my favorite wine. . .

The day couldn't have been more prefect.

And yet. . .

I know there are so many of my friends that are still waiting for their Mother's Days. I started to post about all of this amazing-ness yesterday and yet the guilt kept me from hitting the publish key. So I waited for today and still feel a little self-conscious about blasting my happiness all over this blog. But this is still about my infertility journey, and the first Mother's Day is part of that journey. The feelings of finally savoring this long-awaited day are indescribable - and so mixed. Call it survivor's guilt, call it post-traumatic stress, call it whatever, but there are still the lingerings of my infertile self, wondering why I deserve any of this special attention.

I am not complaining. Just remembering. And treasuring. I am so very thankful for all that I have, for all that I have been blessed with. For as wonderful as yesterday was for me, I know that it was a day of sadness for so many, and my thoughts are with you.

Waiting Mothers

A Waiting Mother is a mother of a truly special nature.

She waits for her children, day after day, with a tenacity that sometimes defies logic.

She waits for her children, because she knows they are coming, somehow, someway.
She waits for her children, because she has no choice, her destiny is to be their mother.

A Waiting Mother is no less a mother, simply because her children are not here.

She carries her children in her heart, and A Waiting Mother knows, it will only be a matter of time until she carries them in her arms.

To those of you still waiting, Happy Waiting Mother's Day.

To those of you no longer waiting, I hope it was everything that you ever dreamed of. It was for me.

Only A Dream

Well, you don't have to be a professional analyzer of dreams (is there an actual name for that profession) to know where last night's dream came from.

In my dream, M came to me and told me that he wanted out. That he was done with our marriage. He laughed at me when I asked if there was another woman and told me that he was just not in love with me anymore. I cried and cried, begging him to think about it, to see a therapist with me, and he was resolute in his decision to leave.

I got angry, scared, sad, and even violent. In my dream, I started hitting, punching, and kicking at him, trying to exact a response, and he just stood there.

When I woke up this morning, I still felt sad. I told M about my dream, prefacing it with the fact that I knew that I had no logical reason for feeling the way that I did, but that I was still emotionally upset about it. He pretty much shrugged it off and went about getting ready for the day. I know I can't expect him to feel badly about something that he didn't even do, but the feelings are still there today.

I think it is safe to say that I am not feeling very loved right now. I mean, I know M loves me, but he is not acting in a very loving manner, so I am not feeling it. Usually, I feel his frustration, his anger, his stress, and not his love. I have tried evaluating the emotions that I am sending out, and I figure that I am probably sending a lot of negative emotions back at him. I think I was trying to send out more loving feelings, but got rebuffed and now am acting from a place of hurt.

I remember reading some where that if you smile and act nice to someone, eventually, they have no choice but to smile and be nice back. So, I am going to try and get back to showing some loving feelings and see where it takes us.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

There has been a cable/internet bill sitting on our counter for three weeks that is $28 higher than it should be. It is a point of contention between M and me.

He feels that I have more "free" time during the day and, therefore, should be the one to wrangle with our provider over the incorrect fees that we have been charged.

I feel that I do not have all of the "free" time that he thinks that I do. He gets an hour lunch break. That's plenty of time to call the company.

In case you can't tell, this is about more than a cable/internet bill. This has become more of a battle of wills and principals. I do not feel that I am being valued and I don't think that M sees the "work" that I do as being as important as the work that he does. I feel as if I do a hundred and one things during the day, but he only seems to notice the things that I don't get to.

I feel as if we both are working hard, but I often don't feel as if my efforts are being appreciated. I feel as if I have to justify my time to M (why, for example, I had time to go to a play date but not straighten out the bill) and that makes me feel like a rebellious teenager. I know this is not the mature, responsible way to behave, but I feel as if this is the only way that I can make my point. (For the record, I already tried to straighten the bill out once, and it wasn't done properly and I had to listen to M complain about that for a half hour.)

So the bill has just sat there. Until last night.

M came home, in a bit of a thundercloud mood to begin with, and was already complaining before he hit the door. I hadn't broken the cardboard down before I put it in the recycling bin, I hadn't gotten the mail, blah, blah, blah. So, when he spied the offending piece of paper, still untouched on the counter, it was game on.

What I hate most about our arguments lately is that a lot of them take place in front of Will. My parents rarely fought in front of my siblings and me, to the point where I can actually remember the occasional times that they did arge. I remember the sick feeling in my tummy when they did fight, and I don't want him to have to feel like that. Although, to be fair, he was too busy banging his sippy cup on the tray and stuffing turkey in his mouth to seem bothered. But still!

Looks like the honeymoon phase from our anniversary trip is over.

*Author's Disclaimer: Writing this post has not been part of my "free" time. I have had to stop once to change a diaper, twice to play peek-a-boo, and have held Will on my lap for the rest of the time. A post that probably took five minutes to read took over an hour to put together. LOL!

Go Get Some Chicken!

Why I love my readers. . .

In Search of Morning Sickness asked me my secret to having shiny hair in the comments after the last post. I almost fell off of my chair, I was laughing so hard.

My hair has pretty much always irritated me. I always wanted the shiny locks of hair that others' had. I remember watching a friend in high school just take her hair, twist it up into a messy ponytail, and it looked amazing. In literally fifteen seconds. If I spent my entire day styling my hair, it wouldn't look as artful and stylish as that quick sweep of her hand did on her head.

My hair is half curly, half straight, all frizzy. It is an uninteresting shade of brown with way too many grays thrown in. I feel as if my hair has multiple personality disorder at times. I wish that it would either be curly or straight. This both business is frustrating.

I will say that I have come to terms with my lackluster locks. Over the course of time, I have found some things that seem to "tame the beast."

I use Hea.d and Shoul.ders shampoo and conditioner (two separate bottles, not the combined). Yeah, the anti-dandruff stuff. I don't really have problems with dandruff, but I think that it makes my hair the shiniest of anything else that I have used, even fancy, salon stuff.

After I wash and towel it dry, I use Ti.gi Con.trol Freek serum ($16 for the bottle, lasts for freaking ever). Just a couple of drops! I also use Ti.gi Spoi.l Me defrizzer. It's in a tall green bottle. It's kind of spendy ($18 for one bottle), but it does last a few months and I use it liberally. It's also great for restyling your hair on a day when you don't want to wash it.

And I use a round, spiky brush and blow dry the living daylights out of it. That's about it.

Oh, yeah, and the reason for the title of this post. Go here to download your free coupon for K.FC's new grilled chicken, courtesy of O.prah. You can print out four coupons for two piece meals, with two sides, and a biscuit. Talk about finger-lickin' good! You can only download the coupon until this afternoon, but then it is good until May 19th. Go forth and eat free chicken!

I'll Have What She's Having

For a few weeks now, Will has been eating "big people" food. Small pieces of cheese, turkey, and cut up steamed veggies, etc. Now we have started a whole new era of Will-eating. He and I have started eating the same things for breakfast and lunch. I don't know why, but I really think it's so adorable, making us the same breakfast and lunches and then sitting down and eating them together.

It started with a trip to Cost.co, where the sample lady "talked me into" giving him some chicken nugget (or it could have been that I was pushing a trip to the grocery store in before going home to have lunch and he was S-T-A-R-V-I-N-G). I broke it into tiny pieces and he gobbled up my sample and his. I bought a bag, we went home, and shared a plate of them and a baked potato.


Then it was the multigrain mini pancakes from Safe.way and then the O-rganic flaxseed blueberry waffles. Soon after that, low-fat turkey breakfast sausage and small bites of canteloupe.

Yesterday, it was grilled cheese on whole grain bread (no butter), garlic potato wedges, and fruit - his obviously cut into much smaller pieces than mine. We sat there, eating our respective lunches, and it was so cute. At one point, he offered me a "bite" of his sandwich, so I gave him a "bite" of mine. Adorable!

He still is eating pureed foods, but about 75% of his meal is self-fed now. It isn't as messy as I thought it would be, as he is quickly developing his pincer grasp and is very adept at getting the food from tray to mouth. The dogs stand by patiently, gobbling up whatever he misses.


He hasn't quite figured out the "fun" of throwing food. He will take his sippy cup and bang it on the tray, crushing cheerios, mashing green beans, and scattering graham cracker crumbs everywhere. He thinks this is quite the game, and when I tell him no, no, it seems to incite further banging. Taking the cup away works for now, but I know it won't be long before he protests that maneuver.
But despite the occasional spills, the cup-banging, and of course, the laundry, I love the fact that he is eating more and more "big people" food. It's just another way he is seeming more and more grown up each and every day.

Coming Home

So, we survived. All of us. Will, M, Grandma. And me.

Saturday morning, I woke up with butterflies in my stomach. I had packed Will on Friday, but I packed and repacked twice more that morning, just to be sure that he had everything that he might possibly need.

After dropping the dogs and their favorite boarding place (really, it's like a hotel for dogs, they LOVE it), we headed the hour north to Bellingham, WA, where my in-laws live.

Bellingham is special to M and me, because we both were students at Western Washington University, and that is where we met our senior year. When M proposed, he took me back up to campus. His plan had been to propose to me in the same classroom where we first met. He had even called ahead to make sure it would be vacant at a certain time. However, when we got there, a class was in session. I remember laughing because I was pretty sure what was up and he got all upset when there was a class in the room. . . I had to gently remind him that it is a school, after all! I just remember how nervous he was and that he took his coat even though it was a warm day, since the ring was in his coat pocket. Since M never takes a coat anywhere (he is a shorts and sandals guy the minute it turns March), I was even more suspicious. So, after the classroom mix up, he took me all over campus, trying to find other "meaningful" spots. Finally, we went back to our car, and he was thinking about taking me to my old apartment and proposing in the hallway where we first kissed. But then he saw it. . .

Probably the least romantic spot for a proposal when you think it terms of aesthetics. There was an old cement tunnel that connected the campus to the commuter parking lots. This is where M first asked me out on a date by saying, "Do you have plans for tomorrow night?"

So, when we got to the tunnel, I suddenly knew that this was where "it" was going to happen. Sure enough, he proposed to me right there, surrounded by cement, chain link fence, weeds, and a little of our own history. He asked me, "Do you have plans for the rest of your life?" It was a perfect moment. I don't think he could have picked a better place. About a minute after the ring was on my finger, a passing student offered to take our picture.

Gosh, we were so young there.

Clearly, Bellingham has some strong ties for us. It's also really convenient, because M's family all lives there, so we even had some babysitters in town. In particular, M's mom, who has been begging and pleading for the opportunity to watch Will for a night. So, in we came, with bags of food, clothes, toys. . . oh, and of course, the baby! We got everything set up, and based on the advice of several friends, we didn't linger. While Will was happily stuffing his face with his latest favorite food (homemade mac & cheese), we kissed him good-bye and beat a hasty retreat.

We stayed at this nice hotel, the same place where we stayed the weekend that M proposed to me. It is located within walking distance of a historic part of town, Fairhaven, where there are lots of shops and restaurants. We walked around, ate a fantastic lunch, and then did some wine tasting. After that, we went back to the hotel to relax a bit, before heading out to an amazing dinner.

It was a really good time, and there were moments where I *almost* forgot we even had a baby (not really). I didn't get teary eyed when we left and we didn't even call once (okay, so I texted once and she sent a text video, but that doesn't count. . . right?). It was what we needed to reconnect and focus on just each other and remember why us two crazy kids even fell in love in the first place.

The next morning, we woke up early (it's a habit by this point), had breakfast, and went to get Will. I was like a little kid, bouncing up and down in the seat and clapping my hands in glee. M laughed at me, but I was so excited to see Will that it was ridiculous! He was asleep on his grandma when we arrived, so I had to wait a little longer to get my eager hands on him. But when he woke up, oh, what a smile he gave me and he leaned towards me with his chubby arms outstretched. And that was when I cried. When he was in my arms again and his little body was curled into mine, I lost it a bit. Not rivers of tears or anything, and with Grandma, Nana, and M watching (and laughing at me again), I kept my emotions mostly in check, but oh, it felt like heaven to have that little boy in my arms again. It felt like home.

But I think that's the best part about going away, even for less than 24 hours. After a rest and some adult time, I was so ready to have him back. Not that I was really ready to give him up, but being a full time mom 100% of the time is more wearing than I think I even realize. I don't think I know how "on duty" I am at all times until I am not. I am eager for this responsibility, don't get me wrong, but I think it's only human to need an occasional respite. And I truly feel as if I am rejuvenated and a better mom for it now.

Of course, I need to keep this in mind. I turn (shhhh. . . .) thirty this year and M has planned a two day weekend trip for us three whole hours away from Will. I get nervous just thinking about it. This weekend was kind of a training exercise for the big event that happens in just a month's time.

But considering how well this weekend went, I think I will be ready. Or at least be able to fake it.

Happy Anniversary, M

I don't even know that M reads this blog anymore. When I was pregnant, he occasionally stopped by to look at the Widget and find out what was happening with the baby on any given day.

But if you look here, Sweetheart, I want you to know that I love you. I am glad that we didn't let infertility beat us, and I have every faith that we can conquer any battles that lay ahead.

Thank you for being my partner for these past six years (and before) and for sharing in the great gift and adventure of parenthood.

You are an amazing father and a wonderful husband and I love you with all of my heart.

Another Step

So today marks something rather important in the life of Will. . .

It will be the first night that we spend apart.

I know for many of you, it is probably borderline ridiculous that this will be the first time Will is away from me for an overnight. But perhaps some of you can identify with the feelings rioting through me as I type all the "Willisms" and pack him for his night at Grandma's.

He had I have been together for a long time. . . since that fateful day in December 2007 that two little embryos were transferred to my womb, he has been a physical part of me. We have spent day time apart from each other, but to be honest, I believe the longest that I have ever been away from him is about six hours. . . and he was with M. The longest he has ever been with someone besides M is about three.

So part of me is really excited. It feels good to know that he will be in capable hands and that I can eat a hot meal. While it's hot. With both of my hands! It feels really good to know that I will be able to sleep all night without worry that he will wake up. I can sleep in! I can take a hot bath and not have to get out midway through! I can have a conversation with my husband that is not punctuated with side notes about poopy diapers and goo goo ga ga. As I posted earlier this week, our marriage could really use some TLC. We are heading to a really romantic spa hotel about ten minutes from my in laws, it is the same place where we spent the weekend that we got engaged. It should be a good time to rekindle some romance. So, I am grateful for a grandmother that is begging to spend a night with our son, and looking forward to spending adult time with M.

Part of me is scared, scared that he will need me and I won't be there. Scared that he won't miss me at all and I will feel expendable (hey, it's a feeling, it's there, and it's honest). More scared that he won't sleep at all, or that he won't eat at all, or that he will be sad and cry the whole time. I know these fears are probably very unreasonable. He has been left several times with my mother-in-law and has never had that reaction. And there has never on this earth been a grandmother so devoted to the happiness and well-being of her grandson. If she had to, she would hold him all night, never thinking of rest for herself, probably not even go to the bathroom!

And when I said that I am typing up all of the "Willisms," I am not kidding. I have a binder of information and even a Quick Facts Sheet, in case she doesn't want to spend the entire weekend reading said binder. I have packed way too many clothes, way too much food, and a gazillion books and toys to aid in his entertainment. And don't even get me started on the other things, like tub toys, lotions, ointments, teething tablets, etc. You would not believe the pile of stuff heading north for one night.

One thing I am determined not to pack, however, are these feelings of Mommy guilt. We deserve this time to ourselves, we deserve to celebrate our sixth wedding anniversary. And Will deserves to get some indepence and spend some time with his adoring grandmother and great-grandmother.

So, here he goes. . . with a binder, ten suitcases (only slightly exaggerating), and my heart . . .

Well, He's Not Oinking Yet*

I swear, the statistical bullet really comes up and bites you on the arse when you least expect it.

This article goes into more details, but to keep it simple there are now officially 141 cases of Swine Flu in the United States. The population of the U.S. (as of July 2008 and according to this site) is 304,059, 724. Now, I am no math genius, but I do have a calculator and when I divide 141 by the population you get 0.0000046%. That is the current percentage of our country's population that has Swine Flu.

Now, even taking that small percentage into account, if you live in one of the nineteen infected states (which is a 38% chance - who knew calculators would be such fun?!), then your likelihood of knowing someone with the Swine Flu would increase, right? Well, not necessarily, as the population of Washington State is 5,894,121. There are six cases in our state, which makes that only 0.000001% of our state's population. However, when the local news started telling us on Wednesday that two of those six cases were in our county (and M joked that the arrow on the map was directly pointing at our house), you have to figure that your chances increase again, right?

Again, not really. The population of our county is 635,655, which means that 0.0000031% of our population has Swine Flu. So really, our chances of knowing someone with the Swine Flu are about the same as everyone else. But surely, you must have figured out where this was going, right?

Yep. So, we know someone with the Swine Flu. I guess it's really not that odd, considering my affinity for being part of small statistical samples.

Okay, so we know someone who has the Swine Flu. But what would the odds be that we had seen that person during the incubation period of 1 - 7 days?

Well, if that person was your child's pediatrician and your child had been in their office for treatment of a sinus infection, then those odds go up rather dramatically. . . to say, oh, 100%. Fortunately, our pediatrician was all booked up on Friday, and we saw a different doctor. However, because we were still in the building and interacted with people that had interacted with her, we are still considered "exposed."

Now, nobody panic! (You mean, like I did, yesterday?) That incubation period of 1 - 7 days is up today and Will has shown no signs of the virus. He is still very nasally congested, but that has been the case for three weeks now. He has no fever, no chest congestion, and no nasty diapers. Believe me, we are watching him like the proverbial hawk. As of noon today, it will have been seven days and, according to the CDC, we can breathe a sigh of relief.

Of course, you know I will update you if anything should change, but it appears we are getting pretty darn good at dodging those bullets!

*I do not mean any disrespect by this title. I know there have been deaths from this virus and that it is not a laughing matter if you contract it. However, there is a point where one can either laugh or cry and I am choosing laughter.