Nursery Progress

Last night, our lovely neighbor came over with paintbrush in hand and got started on the nursery. My husband got home from work and helped with the rolling.

It's about 90% finished right now. Did I mention that this neighbor has a three month old daughter? So, yeah, she had to go breastfeed her and put her to bed. She is coming back tonight to finish the trimwork.

At first, I was a bit nervous about the blue. It was a bit darker than I thought it would be. Now that the walls are mostly painted, however, I am really liking it. Also, with our painting phobia, all of the rooms in our house are white, so this color thing takes a bit of getting used to.

Of course, I'll be updating with progress pictures. There's really not much to see right now, but as soon as the paint dries, the crib is going up, the rest of the furniture will be put in place, and then I can start putting things away and doing the "fun" decorating, like hanging pictures, curtains, and putting the bedding in place. Our plan is to have the nursery pretty much "done" by the end of the weekend. I know I will still putter around and make changes, but we want it to be baby-ready soon so that I can stop obsessing about it.

The Rocking Chair

If you saw my video from a couple of weeks ago, showing you around the nursery, then you might remember the rocking chair that is from Grandpa Dan.

Grandpa Dan is my husband's father. I never met him. He died when my husband was nine.

Three years ago, right after we lost our first pregnancy, my husband was watching a television show about unclaimed money. Intrigued, he looked up first his name, then mine, then his father's and bingo - found $900 that had been in a bank account that his father had when he passed away. He went through the process of getting the money and then gave split it with his sister and mother. This left $300 for him to spend.

He decided that he wanted to spend it on something tangible that we would always remember. After thinking it over, he decided that a rocking chair for our future nursery would be perfect. We searched for a few weeks and finally found the perfect chair in our price range.

Last night, we were clearing things out of the nursery and my husband moved the rocking chair to a corner of our bedroom. For the first time since he tried it in the store, he sat down in it and smiled.

Little moments like these make me realize. . . a baby is truly coming.

Two Months Left?

Yesterday, my husband and I attended our first "Birthing For Dummies" class. Okay, no, that's not what it's really called, but it kind of felt like that. M says it's because I am more educated about pregnancy and childbirth than most first-time-moms. Okay, that's probably true, but there is still a ton that I don't know. I was really hoping for some new information. Instead, I felt as if it was all stuff that I could have read about in any of my pregnancy books. I guess I am just going to have to wait and see for myself what it's all about. The best thing about the class was that we got to sign up for our hospital tour and will be doing that in a couple of weeks.

Today marks the beginning of my 32nd week of pregnancy. I simply cannot wrap my arms around the concept that we only have about two months to go before he is here. I feel as if I am glad for those two months, because we still have a lot of work to do. The nursery progress has kind of stalled because neither of us like to paint. In fact, in the five years we have lived in this house, we have painted one wall. Granted, it was a big wall, but it took us forever and scared us away from ever wanting to paint again.

We finally went and bought the paint today, choosing a pretty light blue color called "spa." I was torn between yellow and blue, but I figured, what the heck? Boys should have lots of blue. I also had purchased these really neat cloud decals a few weeks back and they would have looked rather odd on a yellow "sky."

I was going to work on taping off the nursery this week and then M was going to paint next weekend. I say "was" because our neighbor (who has painted every wall in her house. Twice.) came over as we were getting back from buying the paint and offered her services. She is going to come over on Tuesday night and paint the nursery for us. She said that she actually finds painting relaxing and wants to help. This is incredibly sweet and giving of her and we are offering babysitting services in exchange.

So, if all goes according to plan, the nursery should be painted Tuesday and then hopefully, M will be able to put the crib together this week as well. After that, it's mostly a matter of getting everything arranged as we want it, hanging curtains, and things for the walls. But it will feel so good to get things really started. Thank goodness for our kind neighbor!

All Choked Up

I had a bad night last night. About an hour after we had gone to bed, I was having this dream that I was underwater, couldn't breathe, was choking, and drowning.

Then it got worse. I realized that I wasn't dreaming, I was choking. I couldn't breathe and felt as if there was fluid in my throat, awful burning fluid.

This has happened three times in the past two weeks. The first time, I figured that I swallowed a bug or something. The second time, I wondered if perhaps I was just breathing differently as Little Man took over more lung space. Last night, I finally figured it out: I am choking on my own stomach acid. Sorry, it's a bit TMI, but there you have it.

It takes about fifteen minutes for me to clear the acid from my vocal chords and lungs and get to breathing normally, but it's a scary fifteen minutes. I have to remind myself that I can breathe and just try to relax.

I chugged some Maa.lox and managed to get back to sleep - only to have it happen again barely twenty minutes later. It's such a scary feeling to wake up choking and feeling as if I can't breathe. So, then I was kind of afraid to fall asleep again, because I wonder what happens if I don't wake up? Of coures, logically I know that won't happen, but I still was worried about it and then couldn't get back to sleep. I went downstairs and watched t.v. for awhile, had more Maa.lox, some milk, and a popsicle, because my throat was so irritated from the acid and the coughing.

I was awake for about three hours, then fell asleep on the couch, and it happened again. This time, I woke myself up before it got as bad, and then I went back upstairs and finally fell asleep with a mountain of pillows propping me up. I think it was about 4:30 AM. Then, my silly little dog woke us up at 6:15 AM. He never does that. Ever. He had to go to the bathroom, so I went back downstairs, fed, watered, and let the dogs out, then it was back upstairs to try and get more sleep.

I don't want to add up the sleep that I got last night, because it wouldn't be enough. I am glad that today is not a work day for me, but we have people coming over for a BBQ tonight and the house is not guest-ready. Nor have I done the grocery shopping. Luckily, I did not plan a complicated menu, but I still doubt that I will have time for a nap.

I know this is a whiny post, and for that I apologize. The true purpose of this post is to find out if anybody else out there has had this, and if so, what did you do about it? I am going to call the on-call doctor and find out if they have any other suggestions, but as I am already taking antacids and propping myself up, I doubt there is anything else that can be done, so I am all for your advice and home remedies.

His Head Is Where?

Today was my (almost) 32 week check up. Once you switch to biweekly appointments at my clinic, you start seeing the nurse practitioner for every other one. I had heard from a few other friends that she was a bit of a meanie when it came to weight gain, so I was a bit nervous about that. For the most part, the appointment went really well. She was a lot nicer than I was expecting and didn't say anything about my weight gain.

The stats:

Blood pressure was good: 114/68. The bottom number up a bit from last time, but not enough to be concerned.

Weight gain: 2 lbs up from last time for a total of 25 pounds at 32 weeks. I am pleased with that.

Iron levels: Got my blood taken and expect to hear back on Monday with the results.

Swelling: Moderate in my lower legs and feet, but nothing alarming.

Bad news? Well, there is no bad news, but as she was measuring me and feeling around, she definitely felt his head and Little Man is breech. He still has a couple of weeks to "settle in" to position, but we'll probably get an ultrasound down at 35 weeks to see what's up, unless he has obviously moved head down. She mentioned that my OB is a fan of external cephalic versions, which I am not so excited about, so everybody keep fingers crossed that he turns on his own.

Second piece of interesting information is that she could feel my uterus contracting during the exam. I had been feeling these contractions but figured they were Braxton Hicks and didn't worry about them. Last night, I had a couple of sharper pains, but there weren't four an hour (my OB's threshold for calling in), so again, I wasn't concerned. Well, she said that I should be counting all of my contractions, even the not-so-painful ones and that I need to call in should they continue. She recommended trying to rest for two hours in the morning and two hours in the afternoon, and there is just no way that I can really do that during the work week.

So, hopefully, no more contractions and Baby Boy will move head down. All in all, a good appointment, and can you even believe? Almost 32 weeks!

Who You'd Be Today

In December of 2006, my husband and I were expecting our fifth baby. We were eleven weeks pregnant and after several early losses, this one was looking like "a keeper." Three ultrasounds had confirmed a great heartbeat and a wiggly little embryo that caused our RE is send us on our way with a request for baby pictures that summer.

We had nicknamed our sweet little one Gummy Bear and I had a feeling that it was a boy. It was right before Christmas and we'd had a heck of year, with four miscarriages in nine months. The sweet happiness of finally being really and truly pregnant had us walking inches off the ground. We were beyond giddy with our happiness. We had already told my family of our news and were planning to take our ultrasound picture framed in a Grandma ornament up to his family's house the very night of our OB appointment.

We never made it up to my in-laws that night. Instead, we watched our silent little baby float in a black space on a fuzzy screen and scheduled a D&C. Instead of handing my mother-in-law her first Grandma ornament, we returned the gift for a memorial angel to hang on our Christmas tree. And part of me died with my baby.

Little Gummy Bear's due date was July 2, 2007. Today, I remember my sweet Little One and think about what life would be like if he had lived. I'd no doubt be scurrying around organizing a party, baking a cake, taking him for his first haircut and placing the clipping in his baby book. I would be ready to watch him take his first steps (or running after him if he had already learned how to walk). I would be changing his diaper, reading his stories, worrying about what kind of mother I was being. These are all things that I so many times wondered if I would ever get the chance to do.

Yesterday, I heard a song on the radio that I had heard before: Who You'd Be Today by Ken.ny Ches.ney. It struck me with special meaning and I wanted to share it with you.

The video doesn't apply so much, but the words of the song certainly do. I am in a bit of my own hell today, thinking about the baby that could have been, what he would be like, who he would be. And yet, if Gummy Bear had lived, I wouldn't be feeling his little brother kick me right now. I am learning an important truth about motherhood: one child cannot replace another. My heart may be soothed today by the little one that I am nurturing inside of me, but it is still broken when I think about all that could have been and all that we have lost.

Tonight, we will add a stone angel to Gummy Bear's garden and light a candle to honor his memory. I will be glad for what we have been blessed with, our time with this special angel and all of the others, and I will vow never to forget them and what they mean to me.

Gummy Bear, I love you with all of my heart. Mommy misses you every single day. I hope you know how very much you mean to Daddy and me. We love you, precious Angel.

Crocs and Orange Popsicles

The Northwest "Heat Wave" continued yesterday, but luckily, the temperatures were about ten degrees cooler. It seemed to make a bit of a difference, not only in how much my feet were swelling, but also in how fast I could get the temperature down in the house when I got home from work.

Speaking of work, that is getting a bit more challening lately. My job is not physical in a lifting or straining sense, but it does require a lot of driving and plenty of walking around. I work in hospitals, so usually I have to park my car out in the boonies and then walk to all of the different departments that I call on. I switched to a rolling bag for my supplies at about six months, and that definitely has helped, but I still feel "The Waddle" coming on about half way through the day. I also haven't been able to find any decent work shoes and open toes are definitely not allowed in patient care areas like the ICU or ER. I also just wouldn't feel comfortable walking into a professional appointment with flip flops on.

I had purchased a pair of shoes that I thought would accomodate my swollen feet, but they stopped fitting by around noon yesterday. I went into a nearby shoe store and bought a pair of Cro.cs. I am still not sure how professional these are, but at least they are close-toed and all of the nurses wear them, so I fit in. They are also really comfortable and I went a size larger to accomodate future swelling, so hopefully, I have found a solution.

I also have to wear professional clothing. Yesterday, all I wanted to wear was a loose sundress or shorts and a tank top. Of course, this was not an option. I ended up settling on a pair of nice black cropped pants and a loose fitting dress shirt, but it was still a lot of clothes. This actually isn't my company dress code, either, which is for suit pants and jackets, but my maternity suits no longer fit. They are too spendy to buy any more for just a few more weeks, and my boss approved me to wear "work appropriate" non-suits. I am not sure cropped pants would fall under that category, but luckily, I wasn't working with her yesterday!

I don't know how pregnant women in truly warm parts of the country do it! The lucky thing for me is that this heat is a passing thing. I know most of you commented that you would have to have AC or die, but really, most of our summers here are quite mild. It's rare for temperatures to get about 80 degrees, and even then, most nights the heat dies down by the early evening. We can usually control the temperature in our house by opening windows and using fans.

When I got home from work yesterday, I put out the little kiddie pool that we have for our lab mix, Rocky. He loves to "paddle" in the pool, which is hardly big enough for him to actually get swimming in. But he will lay down in the six inches of water, lap at it, and then move himself in circles as if he is swimming. I put my own feet in the cold water and ate a popsicle and felt comfortable for the first time in a few days. My husband laughed at me when he came home to find me sharing the kiddie pool with a sixty-pound dog and my lips all orange from my popsicle.

I didn't mind the laughter - I felt great! If you need me, I'll be in the kiddle pool. With a popsicle.