A few weeks ago, I was driving my usual route home and passed a lumber mill, just as I do every day on my commute to and from work.
The smell of the freshly milled wood was intoxicating. I inhaled deeply several times and had to seriously fight the urge to flip around and go past it again. This is nothing really new. I have loved the smell of Home Depot and the like in each of my pregnancies.
But what was new was that I kept thinking about that smell for the rest of the day. And when I was building castles out of wooden blocks with Will that night, I had the strongest urge to just pick one of them up and gnaw on it (I resisted).
The next day, after driving by the same mill, I had the strangest impulse to eat paper. Anything paper. When I got my lunch later that day, I confess that what I wanted to eat most was the bag the food had come in.
I tried to brush off these strange cravings. After all, Ben & Jerry's doesn't make a Wood Phood flavor (that I know of - though now that I think on it, they could tap into a whole market if they put their minds to it. . .), and I knew it wasn't normal to ingest paper.
A few days passed and I worked with my boss. We passed the paper mill and he noticed my deep inhalations of glee. "What's going on there?" Da Man asked.
So I confessed my weird fixation with the smell of wood. He teased me about it mercifulessly, of course, and the next day, arrived with a bag of wood chips, designed for brewing beer (to give the beer flavor). I tore open the package and inhaled deeply. It was like heaven. I carried the bag around in my purse, and took sniffs often. I knew this behavior was. . . abnormal, but it seemed almost beyond my control.
Of course, I then thought about eating those wood chips. After all, they were clearly safe for consumption, being meant to soak in brewing beer, right? No, of course not. You don't EAT the wood, for goodness sakes. So I resisted and tried to be content with just inhaling them.
Then, last week, it happened. I took a nibble of a wood chip, as I thought one good chew would solve my cravings. It didn't. If anything, it was now more difficult to fight the urge. I also ate a straw wrapper. Yep, over the course of fifteen minutes, but the entire thing. And wanted more.
So when I went in to see Dr. S this past Tuesday, I confessed my strange craving to him. I was surprised when he didn't A) laugh or B) write an immediate referral for pyschiatric treatment or C) All of the above.
Instead, he asked me if I had heard of Pica, which I had (and have suspected I had before when I was pregnant with Emma and craved beach sand - but this craving was much, much stronger. I never ate the sand with Emma.). He wanted to do a CBC anyway, to check my dropping platelet levels, but also to look at potential anemia. He ordered a ferritin test in addition to the CBC. Both came back with dismal levels and I was contacted bright and early this morning with the news that I need iron infusions.
In addition to my strange craving, I have also been very breathless. Like can't finish a sentence out of breath. Although I have struggled with a bit of this in my previous pregnancies, I have found it more pronoucned this round. I have also been so very tired. I kept writing it off to pregnancy, two small children, and working full time, but it has been almost narcoleptic. Turns out, these are both symptoms of low ferritin/iron levels.
I went in today for my first infusion. I am not going to lie. It wasn't that much fun. I had been told it was an "easy" procedure, and I guess, as far as it goes, it wasn't anything complicated. I sat on a chair, with my arm propped on some pillows. The nurse sprayed a vein in my outer wrist with lidocaine, threaded an iv through it, and flushed the vein with saline. I was all good.
Then, she started pushing the iron. Five minutes into it, and I felt flushed and the room started darkening. I realized that I was about to pass out about two seconds too late. Talk about embarassing.
We finished the infusion with me lying down, sipping apple juice, and vomiting into a bed pan. Yeah, fun times. The good news? Just four more to go.
And the kindly nurse let me know that I should start to feel better in a day or two and likely won't need another course of infusions before Andrew arrives. Whew! I am hoping for a bit more breath and energy in these coming days. And hopefully, less of a need to order lunch, simply for the straw wrapper.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Monday, August 20, 2012
FOUR
It doesn't seem possible that four years have passed since the day my life changed forever.
Will came into our world and rocked it - in the best way possible - to the very core.
Every single day, I am grateful for him. There are no words to express the love in my heart for my sweet boy. When they placed him in my arms four years ago, I loved him because he was my baby and I was biologically programmed to do so. When he comes into my arms today, I love him because he is my baby, but also for the person that he is. I love his big heart, his creative mind, his stubborn nature, and every single thing about him (even his stinky feet!).
Happy Birthday, (Not So) Little Man! May all your dreams come true!
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
What's Perfect Anyway?
This third pregnancy has really gone by quickly. I am 30 weeks pregnant this Sunday and REALLY pregnant. As in, HUGE. I walk into doctors offices for work and get the, "Whoa, someone is about to pop!" People are shocked that I still have over two months to go. At night, I choke back stomach acid, roll around in vain trying to get comfortable, and with baby legs stuck in my lungs, I gasp for air like it's my job.
I hit this same wall with Will and Emma, where there still seemed like so much pregnancy left and not enough energy to sustain it. So I know that I will somehow slug it out to the end, but I am getting to that "ready to have this baby" stage.
Now, are we ready for Andrew to join us?
I am not sure you can ever be ready for the metamorphasis required to bring another life into your world, but if getting all of the details prepared helps, then we are on our way to ready.
It helps that we moved and the nursery was just an empty room, that had conveniently already been painted in a lovely neutral brown and very boyish navy blue on one accent wall. We also already had everything; crib, dresser, clothes, etc. It literally took 15 minutes to set up the nursery. So if he was born today, then yes, we would be "ready", but the bassinet and swing is still broken down into pieces in the garage, the baby seat is uninstalled, and we don't have curtains on his windows (blinds, yes). And no newborn diapers. But a quick trip to the store and probably about an hour of getting things from the garage and put together would render us ready.
Will is ready. He actually knows what is coming this time and he is excited! When a baby comes to play, he is all over it! He talks to the baby all of the time and sweetly tells people that, "I turn four in August and my brother is coming in September!"
Emma has no idea what is about to happen to her little world. I have a feeling she will not like giving up her spot as the baby, but I also think she will do all right. When babies come to visit and I give them some snuggles, she protests with a, "MY mama!" as she comes to claim her spot, so I have been working on holding a baby doll and trying to show her that I can hold her, too. But a baby doll is not a baby brother, so we'll see.
I am. . . I am ready, as in I know there is only one way to go from here. I am still a little (Ha!)overwhelmed at the prospect of three little ones, one full time job, and only so much energy in this mama. But I know it can be done because women all over the world are doing it every day. When I was pregnant with Emma, I really was nervous about how I would handle two. What I found is this: YOU JUST DO IT. You don't always do it perfectly, but heck, who is defining perfection anyway?
One of my favorite things to do at night after the kidlets are tucked away, is to stand in the hallway right outside of their rooms. All of the doors are closed, including the one to Andrew's nursery, and I just imagine all three bedrooms so filled with KID and LOVE, and I remember when I faced empty rooms, and all of the potential chaos is so worth it.
I hit this same wall with Will and Emma, where there still seemed like so much pregnancy left and not enough energy to sustain it. So I know that I will somehow slug it out to the end, but I am getting to that "ready to have this baby" stage.
Now, are we ready for Andrew to join us?
I am not sure you can ever be ready for the metamorphasis required to bring another life into your world, but if getting all of the details prepared helps, then we are on our way to ready.
It helps that we moved and the nursery was just an empty room, that had conveniently already been painted in a lovely neutral brown and very boyish navy blue on one accent wall. We also already had everything; crib, dresser, clothes, etc. It literally took 15 minutes to set up the nursery. So if he was born today, then yes, we would be "ready", but the bassinet and swing is still broken down into pieces in the garage, the baby seat is uninstalled, and we don't have curtains on his windows (blinds, yes). And no newborn diapers. But a quick trip to the store and probably about an hour of getting things from the garage and put together would render us ready.
Will is ready. He actually knows what is coming this time and he is excited! When a baby comes to play, he is all over it! He talks to the baby all of the time and sweetly tells people that, "I turn four in August and my brother is coming in September!"
Emma has no idea what is about to happen to her little world. I have a feeling she will not like giving up her spot as the baby, but I also think she will do all right. When babies come to visit and I give them some snuggles, she protests with a, "MY mama!" as she comes to claim her spot, so I have been working on holding a baby doll and trying to show her that I can hold her, too. But a baby doll is not a baby brother, so we'll see.
I am. . . I am ready, as in I know there is only one way to go from here. I am still a little (Ha!)overwhelmed at the prospect of three little ones, one full time job, and only so much energy in this mama. But I know it can be done because women all over the world are doing it every day. When I was pregnant with Emma, I really was nervous about how I would handle two. What I found is this: YOU JUST DO IT. You don't always do it perfectly, but heck, who is defining perfection anyway?
One of my favorite things to do at night after the kidlets are tucked away, is to stand in the hallway right outside of their rooms. All of the doors are closed, including the one to Andrew's nursery, and I just imagine all three bedrooms so filled with KID and LOVE, and I remember when I faced empty rooms, and all of the potential chaos is so worth it.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Rebecca Update
I haven't posted on Rebecca for awhile and you are definitely due for an update.
She is home and has been since April. Her brother and sister-in-law moved in with them (both were unemployed at the time and had the flexibility to do so) to help provide the care she needs. She is fairly able to do menial tasks, such as bathing, dressing, and other toiletry things, but she has trouble navigating more complex things, like cooking. She also cannot drive and has a multitude of doctor's appointments to go to every day, so it was a very fortunate thing that they had family able and willing to step into the role of caregivers and companions.
Her husband is in residency and his schedule is crazy busy. He works long shifts, sometimes not coming home for two to three days at a time and grabbing whatever sleep he can at the hospital. This was something that she had gotten used to before, primarily by keeping her own schedule very busy (a full time career and very busy social life) and also maintaining a strict exercise routine (she is a marathon runner). She is still busy with appointments and goes to the gym daily, but I can tell that his schedule is harder for her to deal with now.
Her doctors tell her that she will know the full extent and permanence of her injuries at six months (September). Physically, she is kicking ass and taking names. She goes to the gym daily and is trying to rebuild her strength. She still has to use a cane to help with walking, but that is mostly because she gets tired very easily and the cane helps with that. She has PT three times a week. Her coordination is still a bit off, but considering where she started, she has come a long way. The biggest thing she battles right now is the fatigue. This is a girl that used to be non-stop, and learning to slow down is a challenge. She still gets short of breath and heart palpitations, but her doctors assure her that this will pass and is only an indication of her body still recovering and not any permanent damage.
Her vision is back to a degree that is truly a miracle, and yet a great diappointment to her. She is legally blind with very poor perhipheral vision. She can see you if you are directly in front of her and can recognize you if the light is good enough and you are close enough. She can read large text print in very bright light. But driving is out of the question.
That makes returning to the career she has had for over a decade a current impossibility. She has to be able to drive in order to return to work. At this point, that isn't looking good.
Her short term disability is out already, and they live primarily on her salary (her husband makes a salary as a resident, but his student loans are now in repayment and are astronomical). Her pay is now cut to 75% of what it was. This is a liveable amount, but they have a lot of medical bills starting to come in. She goes to several appointments, each with their own co-pays, each week. They are paying $200 in co-pays alone each week.
Whenever I talk to her (and it is rare that we talk anymore), she sounds desolate, depressed, and sad. She has said repeatedly that her life is awful and while she knows she should be grateful to be alive, she has a hard time feeling gratitude.
The last time we spoke, she told me that she hated me because I am pregnant. She added that she hates all of her pregnant friends. I tried not to let that hurt me, because while I know the hurt of seeing people pregnant when you can't be, I can't imagine how that would feel when added to all of the other injustices that she is facing.
As for infertility. . . her doctors have cautioned her that pregnancy might be out of the question for her, even if pregnancy could be achieved. They suspect an underlying clotting disorder, but she is still on massive quantities of blood thinners, so they cannot test her for those disorders until after she is off the medications. They are waiting to do those tests and see where everything is in September. She doesn't really want to talk about it, and I can understand that.
I call a lot, but she rarely returns my phone calls. Occasionally, I manage to catch her, but she usually cuts our conversations off a few minutes in. I have tried to make plans to see her, pick her up for a coffee or pedicure, drop by, etc., and she is always too busy. Another girlfriend had a brother with a brain injury and she said he was the same way. It took a long time for him to emotionally recover. The only times that I have seen her are times that I drop by without asking, and the reception I get hasn't been good. When we do talk, I can see how angry, sad, depressed, and unhappy she is. I try to get through the walls she has put up, but I also am keenly aware (as I know she is, too) of my very obvious pregnancy. I know it hurts her to see me and that is the last thing that I want.
So. . . that is where things are for Rebecca. I will keep being there for her and trying, because she is too good of a person and friend for me to walk away from. I do think it is better for me to keep reaching out, even if it means getting pushed away, so she at least knows that I am thinking of her. I miss my friend and I wish there was more I could do for her.
She is home and has been since April. Her brother and sister-in-law moved in with them (both were unemployed at the time and had the flexibility to do so) to help provide the care she needs. She is fairly able to do menial tasks, such as bathing, dressing, and other toiletry things, but she has trouble navigating more complex things, like cooking. She also cannot drive and has a multitude of doctor's appointments to go to every day, so it was a very fortunate thing that they had family able and willing to step into the role of caregivers and companions.
Her husband is in residency and his schedule is crazy busy. He works long shifts, sometimes not coming home for two to three days at a time and grabbing whatever sleep he can at the hospital. This was something that she had gotten used to before, primarily by keeping her own schedule very busy (a full time career and very busy social life) and also maintaining a strict exercise routine (she is a marathon runner). She is still busy with appointments and goes to the gym daily, but I can tell that his schedule is harder for her to deal with now.
Her doctors tell her that she will know the full extent and permanence of her injuries at six months (September). Physically, she is kicking ass and taking names. She goes to the gym daily and is trying to rebuild her strength. She still has to use a cane to help with walking, but that is mostly because she gets tired very easily and the cane helps with that. She has PT three times a week. Her coordination is still a bit off, but considering where she started, she has come a long way. The biggest thing she battles right now is the fatigue. This is a girl that used to be non-stop, and learning to slow down is a challenge. She still gets short of breath and heart palpitations, but her doctors assure her that this will pass and is only an indication of her body still recovering and not any permanent damage.
Her vision is back to a degree that is truly a miracle, and yet a great diappointment to her. She is legally blind with very poor perhipheral vision. She can see you if you are directly in front of her and can recognize you if the light is good enough and you are close enough. She can read large text print in very bright light. But driving is out of the question.
That makes returning to the career she has had for over a decade a current impossibility. She has to be able to drive in order to return to work. At this point, that isn't looking good.
Her short term disability is out already, and they live primarily on her salary (her husband makes a salary as a resident, but his student loans are now in repayment and are astronomical). Her pay is now cut to 75% of what it was. This is a liveable amount, but they have a lot of medical bills starting to come in. She goes to several appointments, each with their own co-pays, each week. They are paying $200 in co-pays alone each week.
Whenever I talk to her (and it is rare that we talk anymore), she sounds desolate, depressed, and sad. She has said repeatedly that her life is awful and while she knows she should be grateful to be alive, she has a hard time feeling gratitude.
The last time we spoke, she told me that she hated me because I am pregnant. She added that she hates all of her pregnant friends. I tried not to let that hurt me, because while I know the hurt of seeing people pregnant when you can't be, I can't imagine how that would feel when added to all of the other injustices that she is facing.
As for infertility. . . her doctors have cautioned her that pregnancy might be out of the question for her, even if pregnancy could be achieved. They suspect an underlying clotting disorder, but she is still on massive quantities of blood thinners, so they cannot test her for those disorders until after she is off the medications. They are waiting to do those tests and see where everything is in September. She doesn't really want to talk about it, and I can understand that.
I call a lot, but she rarely returns my phone calls. Occasionally, I manage to catch her, but she usually cuts our conversations off a few minutes in. I have tried to make plans to see her, pick her up for a coffee or pedicure, drop by, etc., and she is always too busy. Another girlfriend had a brother with a brain injury and she said he was the same way. It took a long time for him to emotionally recover. The only times that I have seen her are times that I drop by without asking, and the reception I get hasn't been good. When we do talk, I can see how angry, sad, depressed, and unhappy she is. I try to get through the walls she has put up, but I also am keenly aware (as I know she is, too) of my very obvious pregnancy. I know it hurts her to see me and that is the last thing that I want.
So. . . that is where things are for Rebecca. I will keep being there for her and trying, because she is too good of a person and friend for me to walk away from. I do think it is better for me to keep reaching out, even if it means getting pushed away, so she at least knows that I am thinking of her. I miss my friend and I wish there was more I could do for her.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
You Should See My Heart
I am 25 weeks pregnant.
My little guy is moving and grooving up a storm.
In fact, as I type, he is making my stomach move side to side. He is also giving me massive heartburn, but that is another story.
We are 99% set on a name. Andrew Robert. Andrew just because we like it (it was on our short list of favorites when we named Will) and like the option of two short versions; Andy and Drew. We will likely go with Drew. Robert is my dad's name, and we are keeping this part a secret, to surprise him when the baby is born.
The nursery is set up, as in all furniture is up, the bedding is in the crib, and I have started washing, folding, and putting away little newborn and three month size clothes. We are 100% moved into our new home, but only about 50% unpacked. What that means is that I have a garage filled with boxes, filled with stuff that I clearly don't need.
***
Being a working outside the home mommy is tough. News flash, right?
That being said, being a stay at home mommy is tough, too. After seven months of being a working outside the home mommy, all I can say for sure is this: Being a parent is tough and there is give and take, no matter what you decide to do. There are benefits to working for sure, just as there were benefits to staying home. I find myself balancing things just as much as I did when I stayed home; perhaps I am juggling some different things. There is the omnipresent Mommy Guilt that nags at me no matter what I am doing, it's just guilt about different aspects of my life now.
I will say that having a nanny has made my life exponentially easier and I love the fact that most mornings, the kidlets are still happily sleeping as I depart for the day. We only used out of the home care for about two months, and every morning was so stressful. I am sure I would have gotten a better routine down eventually, but it is nice not to have that crazy rush in the morning, especially on mornings that I have to leave super early.
Our nanny is incredible. She is great with the kids; creative, fun, and engaging. She has a lot of energy, which is definitely a BIG plus right now (since my energy is flagging). In addition to keeping the children happy, healthy, and safe, she also does a lot of extras around the house, including dishes, laundry, mopping, and vacuuming. As one of my girflriends says, "It's like having a wife!"
Emma will be turning two (TWO?!?!?) in just a few weeks. That is just mind-blowing to me. Equally mind-blowing is how amazing she is. I know, I know, I am hardly unbiased, but trust me when I telll you, she is an incredible little girl. She is just so precious. I seriously fall in love with her more and more each day. She is so sweet, so sassy, so full of spunk. She has her toddler moments, and has even thrown a few full-on tantrums, but overall, she continues to define the word "easy" in a child. And while I may have just jinxed myself, I will say, she has always been easy and laid-back, but she still has her own mind and isn't afraid to express herself.
Will is going to be FOUR in August. This is equally insane to think about. He is quite the Big Kid these days. Three was a challenging year for us and he still whines a lot and has the occasional tantrum that kind of comes out of nowhere. But he is also far more independent, able to do a lot for himself, and he is a very sweet and kind big brother. He is excited for his baby brother to arrive and I was thrilled to watch him with my nine-month-old nephew this past weekend. He was so gentle and caring and I can't wait to see him with Drew.
The other day, I was in the grocery store with my two lil' monkeys. They were behaving well, but you know how it is, they are still distracting. I was trying to pay at the check-out and they both chose that moment to "need" something. The cashier said, "Boy, you have your hands full, don't you?"
I shrugged kind of helplessly as I attended to Will's request for water and Emma's for her Clifford book and put in my customer loyalty number all at once. A sweet older lady in line behind me leaned forward and said, "Don't you worry, honey. Your hands might be full, but think about how full your heart is!"
I loved that. Absolutely loved it. I get a lot of eye rolls, rude (yes, rude!) comments about being crazy for having #3, and etc. It gets tiring sometimes, when people ask how I will handle it all. And I think back to the days when I didn't have any children, didn't know if I ever would, didn't know if I would ever be called mommy. And there is not one minute that I will spend in this lifetime wishing away these three sweet babies of mine. Not one.
Yes, it is crazy.
Yes, I am tired.
Yes, there are days when I feel overwhelmed and worry about how I will handle it all.
And then, I think about my heart and how filled with love it is. And I think about how it used to be broken. And I know that I am so much luckier than I ever could have counted on or dreamed of when it comes to the babies I have been blessed with.
I want to get this made into a t-shirt, or maybe stickers, or a banner that I carry around with me. Because it is so true.
My little guy is moving and grooving up a storm.
In fact, as I type, he is making my stomach move side to side. He is also giving me massive heartburn, but that is another story.
We are 99% set on a name. Andrew Robert. Andrew just because we like it (it was on our short list of favorites when we named Will) and like the option of two short versions; Andy and Drew. We will likely go with Drew. Robert is my dad's name, and we are keeping this part a secret, to surprise him when the baby is born.
The nursery is set up, as in all furniture is up, the bedding is in the crib, and I have started washing, folding, and putting away little newborn and three month size clothes. We are 100% moved into our new home, but only about 50% unpacked. What that means is that I have a garage filled with boxes, filled with stuff that I clearly don't need.
***
Being a working outside the home mommy is tough. News flash, right?
That being said, being a stay at home mommy is tough, too. After seven months of being a working outside the home mommy, all I can say for sure is this: Being a parent is tough and there is give and take, no matter what you decide to do. There are benefits to working for sure, just as there were benefits to staying home. I find myself balancing things just as much as I did when I stayed home; perhaps I am juggling some different things. There is the omnipresent Mommy Guilt that nags at me no matter what I am doing, it's just guilt about different aspects of my life now.
I will say that having a nanny has made my life exponentially easier and I love the fact that most mornings, the kidlets are still happily sleeping as I depart for the day. We only used out of the home care for about two months, and every morning was so stressful. I am sure I would have gotten a better routine down eventually, but it is nice not to have that crazy rush in the morning, especially on mornings that I have to leave super early.
Our nanny is incredible. She is great with the kids; creative, fun, and engaging. She has a lot of energy, which is definitely a BIG plus right now (since my energy is flagging). In addition to keeping the children happy, healthy, and safe, she also does a lot of extras around the house, including dishes, laundry, mopping, and vacuuming. As one of my girflriends says, "It's like having a wife!"
Emma will be turning two (TWO?!?!?) in just a few weeks. That is just mind-blowing to me. Equally mind-blowing is how amazing she is. I know, I know, I am hardly unbiased, but trust me when I telll you, she is an incredible little girl. She is just so precious. I seriously fall in love with her more and more each day. She is so sweet, so sassy, so full of spunk. She has her toddler moments, and has even thrown a few full-on tantrums, but overall, she continues to define the word "easy" in a child. And while I may have just jinxed myself, I will say, she has always been easy and laid-back, but she still has her own mind and isn't afraid to express herself.
Will is going to be FOUR in August. This is equally insane to think about. He is quite the Big Kid these days. Three was a challenging year for us and he still whines a lot and has the occasional tantrum that kind of comes out of nowhere. But he is also far more independent, able to do a lot for himself, and he is a very sweet and kind big brother. He is excited for his baby brother to arrive and I was thrilled to watch him with my nine-month-old nephew this past weekend. He was so gentle and caring and I can't wait to see him with Drew.
The other day, I was in the grocery store with my two lil' monkeys. They were behaving well, but you know how it is, they are still distracting. I was trying to pay at the check-out and they both chose that moment to "need" something. The cashier said, "Boy, you have your hands full, don't you?"
I shrugged kind of helplessly as I attended to Will's request for water and Emma's for her Clifford book and put in my customer loyalty number all at once. A sweet older lady in line behind me leaned forward and said, "Don't you worry, honey. Your hands might be full, but think about how full your heart is!"
I loved that. Absolutely loved it. I get a lot of eye rolls, rude (yes, rude!) comments about being crazy for having #3, and etc. It gets tiring sometimes, when people ask how I will handle it all. And I think back to the days when I didn't have any children, didn't know if I ever would, didn't know if I would ever be called mommy. And there is not one minute that I will spend in this lifetime wishing away these three sweet babies of mine. Not one.
Yes, it is crazy.
Yes, I am tired.
Yes, there are days when I feel overwhelmed and worry about how I will handle it all.
And then, I think about my heart and how filled with love it is. And I think about how it used to be broken. And I know that I am so much luckier than I ever could have counted on or dreamed of when it comes to the babies I have been blessed with.
I want to get this made into a t-shirt, or maybe stickers, or a banner that I carry around with me. Because it is so true.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Life and Times
Cheese and rice, it has been a long time since I updated you.
Here is where we are today.
Will
Oh, three. I will tell you, I thought Will turning three would break me. My sweet, good-natured, easy-going toddler turned into a full-throttle preschooler. The tantrums and defiance were off-the-charts. After about two months of "OHMYGOSHCANITAKEANYMOREOFTHIS??", it stopped as quickly as it started. With a rare tantrum here and there to keep us on our toes, Will settled into three with grace.
He love, love, loved preschool and as the school year winds down, I have to say, I believe preschool might have been one of the best things we have ever done for Will. It helped him with socialization, maturation, and just all-around-growing up. I was at his school last week for a puppet show and his teacher said that Will grew leaps and bounds this year. She also commented on what a good and loving heart he has. I beamed with parental pride but tried (and likely failed) to accept the compliment with nonchalance. I was very proud.
As he approaches four (and we just moved into a new house), we have seen a remergence of The Tantrums, but I also know that milestones are tough times for kidlets. So, we are just trying to buckle down and be really consistent with our expectations and bedtimes. It seems to be helping as much as anything can. As I have learned from my nearly four year stint at parenting, time seems to help everything along.
Emma
Emma is. . . well, she is pretty darn amazing. I realize I am completely biased, but I have complete strangers stop me to comment on her gorgeous curls, big brown eyes, and wide, gap-toothed smile. She knows how cute she is (does any one else see trouble brewing), but she is still in that sweet, do-anything-to-please toddler stage. I know what is coming, so I try to hang on to these precious moments.
She talks a blue streak (hmmmm, wonder where that comes from) and sings songs. She knows all of her colors, shapes, and many letters. She loves her brother (except when she doesn't) and has just started to protest things when they don't go her way.
But she still sleeps like a dream, eats like a truck driver, and generally gives definition to the word "easy". We'll see how much longer I can say that!
Baby #3
"He" appears to be a boy, which will be confirmed at our anatomy scan next week. Yes, folks, I have somehow found myself nearly five months pregnant. This is crazy talk. I am starting to feel consistent fetal movement and grow more attached to him every day. So far, names on our list include: Bryson, Weston, Caleb, and (the front runner) Alexander.
Me
I am huge, as it seems to go with me carrying boys. Seriously, I look about seven months pregnant, and I still have A LONG TIME to go. It also turns out that I tend to develop platelet issues in pregnancy, so we are hoping to make it to 34 weeks. If my platelets continue to drop, I will have steroid shots and deliver. There isn't anything we can do to prevent HELLP from occuring, just keep hoping and praying that my body holds out to get this little one safely to viability and beyond. Remember, I have had HELLP with both Will and Emma and they turned out just fine, so I am not that concerned. Yet.
Us
We just moved into a new house that will accomodate our growing brood. It is a lovely home, across the street from a lake and I wake up every day in a bit of awe that we live in such a beautiful house in such a gorgeous location. We have truly been blessed.
So, that's an update on us. How are you?
Here is where we are today.
Will
Oh, three. I will tell you, I thought Will turning three would break me. My sweet, good-natured, easy-going toddler turned into a full-throttle preschooler. The tantrums and defiance were off-the-charts. After about two months of "OHMYGOSHCANITAKEANYMOREOFTHIS??", it stopped as quickly as it started. With a rare tantrum here and there to keep us on our toes, Will settled into three with grace.
He love, love, loved preschool and as the school year winds down, I have to say, I believe preschool might have been one of the best things we have ever done for Will. It helped him with socialization, maturation, and just all-around-growing up. I was at his school last week for a puppet show and his teacher said that Will grew leaps and bounds this year. She also commented on what a good and loving heart he has. I beamed with parental pride but tried (and likely failed) to accept the compliment with nonchalance. I was very proud.
As he approaches four (and we just moved into a new house), we have seen a remergence of The Tantrums, but I also know that milestones are tough times for kidlets. So, we are just trying to buckle down and be really consistent with our expectations and bedtimes. It seems to be helping as much as anything can. As I have learned from my nearly four year stint at parenting, time seems to help everything along.
Emma
Emma is. . . well, she is pretty darn amazing. I realize I am completely biased, but I have complete strangers stop me to comment on her gorgeous curls, big brown eyes, and wide, gap-toothed smile. She knows how cute she is (does any one else see trouble brewing), but she is still in that sweet, do-anything-to-please toddler stage. I know what is coming, so I try to hang on to these precious moments.
She talks a blue streak (hmmmm, wonder where that comes from) and sings songs. She knows all of her colors, shapes, and many letters. She loves her brother (except when she doesn't) and has just started to protest things when they don't go her way.
But she still sleeps like a dream, eats like a truck driver, and generally gives definition to the word "easy". We'll see how much longer I can say that!
Baby #3
"He" appears to be a boy, which will be confirmed at our anatomy scan next week. Yes, folks, I have somehow found myself nearly five months pregnant. This is crazy talk. I am starting to feel consistent fetal movement and grow more attached to him every day. So far, names on our list include: Bryson, Weston, Caleb, and (the front runner) Alexander.
Me
I am huge, as it seems to go with me carrying boys. Seriously, I look about seven months pregnant, and I still have A LONG TIME to go. It also turns out that I tend to develop platelet issues in pregnancy, so we are hoping to make it to 34 weeks. If my platelets continue to drop, I will have steroid shots and deliver. There isn't anything we can do to prevent HELLP from occuring, just keep hoping and praying that my body holds out to get this little one safely to viability and beyond. Remember, I have had HELLP with both Will and Emma and they turned out just fine, so I am not that concerned. Yet.
Us
We just moved into a new house that will accomodate our growing brood. It is a lovely home, across the street from a lake and I wake up every day in a bit of awe that we live in such a beautiful house in such a gorgeous location. We have truly been blessed.
So, that's an update on us. How are you?
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Outrage
I honestly have to step away from my computer a lot. Because when I read things like this blog, it makes me so angry, I see red. It also causes me pain, because it brings back all of the horrible memories of losing my sweet angel babies. It causes me pain, because I can just think of the hurt it must cause others.
I think my real issue with this blog isn't even the content (though that is enough to infuriate me). It is the arena in which it was published. When I was TTC, I turned to babycenter.com many times. I was on their boards a lot. When I finally got my RLB*, I continued to frequent the site. So it breaks my heart to think that someone currently suffering a loss or infertility would read something like this in a place where they had come to find support.
I have contacted babycenter.com (which you can do through this link) and requested that this blogger be removed from their featured blogger program or, at the very least, she be required to print a real apology and retraction (and yes, I know, she already wrote a post in which she stands by her original blog, with some clarification). In the meantime, I will be boycotting the site. I will give it a few days, but if they do not take action, I will also start contacting their sponsors to alert them to that this type of material is being published in this forum.
I do believe in freedom of speech, but I also believe it is a great responsibility that should be carried out with compassion and grace whenever possible. I also fully believe that this blogger knew exactly what she was doing and that she did it with intent (her headline is inflammatory, which she even admits, but notice, does not change and her request for feedback even throws out the acknowledgment that she might be called a Nazi - to be clear, I am not, nor will I consider, calling this woman a Nazi).
In any case, I feel a very deep need to exercise my own freedom of speech and to protect those mothers who have lost a baby (or more). So please join me if you agree.
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