Oh Yeah, This.

Yesterday, I spent two hours in Labor & Delivery for a non-stress test.  At my doctor's appointment, my blood pressure was up more and the doctor was worried.  Frankly, so was I.  With Gavin, my blood pressure climbed up a little more at each appointment until the doctor finally said, "That's it. You're having this baby tomorrow."  Fortunately, that was only 8 days early.  Gavin was born perfectly healthy and my blood pressure decreased as soon as I gave birth.  No big deal.

But this?  This is way too early to have Baby Doc.  As soon as the doctor said "non-stress test" and "head to Labor & Delivery," I freaked out.  The last time I'd heard that, I had a baby the next day.  I called Ryan and my mom who both met me at the hospital and helped calm me down for the test.  They drew my blood, hooked me up to the blood pressure cuff, and I laid there waiting, praying that I could will my blood pressure down.

Each time the machine tested me, my blood pressure went down a little more.  By the end of the test, it was even at a level that's considered low.  Thank God.

They sent me home with orders to rest and check in with my doctor next week.  Now I'm just trying to figure out how I can con my blood pressure into staying down for the next 3 1/2 weeks so my little guy will be fully baked.  My usual go-to method would be wine.  Damn that "no drinking while pregnant" rule.  Any suggestions?

A Letter to My Child(ren)

Gavin,
You are our constant source of comic relief, buddy.  You chatter constantly about everything under the sun.  It's like a stream of consciousness flowing from your mouth and you can barely keep up with it.  Sometimes it's singing, sometimes it's just talking, but most of the time it's pure silliness.  I love that you're such a goofball, because now we both make Daddy shake his head at us.  :)  Lately, if one of us does something you think is silly, you shake your head at us and say, "Ohhhh, Mommy" or "Ohhhh, Daddy."  It's like you're already embarrassed by us.  Apparently, we're doing our duty as parents.

You're also obsessed with containers right now.  You put toys, necklaces, underwear right out of the dryer, etc. into one container only to promptly dump it into another container.  This goes on for quite a while usually.  You could keep yourself occupied for hours.

You've also been concerned with getting lost lately.  A few months ago, a little girl went missing in Kansas City and her picture was all over the news and the billboards we passed every day on the way to daycare.  When you asked, "Who that baby?"  I told you she was lost and the police were going to bring her back to her parents.  Since then, every time we see a police car or a fire truck, you say, "If I get lost, policemens and firemens bring me back to Mommy and Daddy."  I guess it's good for you to learn who to go to for help, but I don't want you to become overly worried about it.  I worry enough for the whole family.

More and more, you insist on doing things all by yourself, including going to the bathroom (which you're a pro at now, by the way!), putting on your socks and shoes, putting on your gloves and coat, etc.  We constantly hear, "No!  I do it!" and we're trying hard to let you try all those things yourself.  Even when your socks end up backwards and inside out.  The look of pride on your face is so worth it.

You're going to be three this weekend and I can't believe how fast the time has gone.  My baby is so grown up now, and I can't tell you how proud that makes me.

I love you more,
Mommy



Baby Doc,
It's not much longer until we meet you now!  27 days or less, actually.  That has me partly panicked, but mostly ecstatic.  There's still so much on my to-do list that it feels a little overwhelming right now, but I know it will get done, and even if it doesn't, the clothes washing and painting can come later.

My blood pressure was up at my last doctor's appointment, which also has me a bit worried.  I'm really hoping I don't become pre-eclamptic like I did when I was pregnant with Gavin.  There's not much I can do differently besides rest more, though, and Daddy is great about making me do that in the evenings.

Speaking of the evenings, you move so much at night.  It's become a source of entertainment for your Daddy and me.  Last week, we'd put Gavin to bed and were watching TV when you pushed so hard against me that my entire belly was lopsided.  It was like you were fighting for more room and then finally gave up and my belly went back to it's normal roundedness.

With 27 days to go, I can't imagine getting any bigger than I already am.  Pregnancy is getting consistently uncomfortable now, which is making me cross my fingers that you'll decide to come a little earlier than 27 days from now.  That, and the fact that I just can't wait to see your face, count your fingers and toes, and just breathe you in.  I'm so ready for that.  It makes 27 days sound like an eternity.

I love you more,
Mommy

8 years

Eight years ago today, I stood at the altar in an ivory princess gown exchanging vows with the man God intended just for me—I don’t think I fully realized at the time just how blessed I was.

He lets me be me, even while shaking his head at my silly antics.  He puts up with my shit, encourages me, forgives my mistakes, makes me laugh, gives me grace, deals with my double standards and makes me fall for him over and over again. 

He’s the husband I’d always hoped for—the guy who doesn’t mind my feminist side, and doesn’t see male and female “roles,” but looks at me as a partner in everything we do.

He’s a great dad, and makes me strive to be a better mom.   

And even on the days he’s pushed my last button and I think I might lose my shit on him, I still love him more than I ever thought I could love a man. 

Happy anniversary, hun.  I love our life.

February Gavinisms

Looking at the snap close to his wrist on his coat:
Gavin: "I need to look at my watch."
Me: "What time is it?"
Gavin: "Um....it's ninety thirty."

When requesting to play with my iPad:
Gavin:  "Mommy, go get your iPad right now and please."

During bedtime routine:
Me:  "Would you like to say a prayer before bed?"
Gavin: "Ya.  I wanna pray God be with my grandparents and give them lots of love."

Pondering his soon-to-be sibling:
Gavin:  "Who gonna be Baby Doc's mommy?"
Me:  "I am, sweetie.  I'm going to be your mommy and Baby Doc's mommy."
Gavin:  "Who gonna be his daddy?"
Me:  "Your daddy.  He's going to have the same parents as you."
Gavin:  "Ooooohhhh."

While eating lunch:
Gavin, pointing to a bag on the table: "Mommy, what's that stuff?"
Me: "That's granola for my yogurt.  Would you like some granola?"
Gavin:  "Wat chu say?  Cranilla?"
Me:  "Gra-no-la."
Gavin:  "Oh.  I sayin' it wrong!"

Sprawled out in the front doorway when the door was open:
Me:  "What are you doing?"
Gavin:  "I layin' in the sunshine like Daisy."

When thinking I'm being goofy:
Gavin: "You a silly bobby."
Me:  "What's a bobby?"
Gavin, shaking head and sticking out his tongue: "That."

To Ryan as he buckled Gavin into my car:
Gavin: "Daddy, you go away now.  I have a date with Mommy."

While playing with the baby Jesus from our Mardi Gras king cake:
Me:  "What are you doing, buddy?"
Gavin:  "I put baby Jesus in the fridge cuz he gettin' hot."
Me:  "Won't he get cold in there?"
Gavin:  "He need to cool off and be safe."

Pregnancy Is Beautiful...Except to Pregnant Women

I think other people are adorable pregnant.  They're all so glowy and cute it almost makes you want to get knocked up yourself.  Unfortunately, I don't feel all glowy and cute when I'm pregnant.  I feel awkward, uncomfortable and big.  Really big.


Don't get me wrong—I love pregnancy.  The thought of this little life that's part me and part Ryan is a miracle, plain and simple.  And I love feeling Baby Doc rolling around, and trying to guess if an elbow or a knee is sticking out of my belly—but at times, I wish I could just take pregnancy off like a coat.  I'd like to hang it up for a while and rest.  Breathe comfortably.  Sleep comfortably.  Move comfortably.


When I thought about maternity photos, I was so not into the idea at first.  Why would I want to document this whale-like feeling forever?  But then there's that other side—the side that's done this before and knows the uncomfortableness won't last forever, that I'll miss this time when creating life is what my body is meant to be doing.


That's why I'm so glad I got these photos taken.  And the thing that surprised me the most?  
I feel beautiful in them.  

Many thanks to Jaime Russell for taking these beautiful shots to document our little miracle.  Check out her Web site here.

"Falling Down Is Funny" Came Back to Bite Me in the Ass

I totally bit it while walking out of work on Monday night.  Some yahoo spilled the tiniest amount of water on the floor and I happened to hit it juuuust right and went down hard.  Now, before the panic ensues, I'll tell you that Baby Doc is perfectly fine, as am I, with the exception of my left knee.  I landed on it pretty hard and let me tell you--I sure felt those extra 30+ pounds I'm carrying right now.

Someone helped me up and I limped the rest of the way to my car before realizing, "Hey.  This happened at work.  I probably can't just head to any random urgent care to make sure my kneecap isn't broken."

And so it began.  At 8 months pregnant, I not only completed a breathalyzer test, but also a urine sample drug test and what seemed like dozens of sheets of paperwork to document what had happened, when it happened, why it happened, etc. before finally seeing a doctor who ensured me that my knee would be just fine.  Diagnosis: a badly bruised kneecap.  Treatment: ice for 72-ish hours.

Gavin sent me to work the next day with his favorite Elmo ice pack.  "Elmo make you feel better, Mommy," he said, and I couldn't resist accepting his very sweet offer.  So, there I sat with Elmo on my knee in meetings and at my desk.  My co-workers feigned concern, but got over it quickly at the sight of Elmo.

For years I've laughed inappropriately when others have fallen down.  It's almost an automatic reaction for me, like some kind of nervous tick or something.  So I suppose I deserved this, but the most comical part of this whole ordeal is that I'll likely have to submit a list to HR of the ways my accident can be avoided in the future.  I'm not kidding.

Though my list will be a little different for HR, here's my list for all of you on "How to Avoid Injury and/or Falling at Work."

"How to Avoid Injury and/or Falling at Work"

Wear clothing made only of bubble wrap.

Avoid blinking while walking.

Insist no one be allowed to drink water at work. Ever. Again.

Give birth so I can see my feet while walking.

Only wear shoes with suction cup soles.

Insist I be carried around in some kind of palanquin, like Cleopatra.

Wear knee pads at all times.  

Buy new shoes (preferably very stylish ones!)
Learn to walk on water. (Thanks to my manager for this idea!)
Wear hospital-issued gripper socks over my shoes.

32 Weeks

Not much longer now!