Cheerio Confessions

Granted most of this blog thus far has been dedicated to the making, the baking, the raising of Mr. Emmett John along with his brothers. However, if you are new to the Cheerios' Universe and would like a quick run down...let's see what I can do for you.

Surprise! (Coming Soon!)

The Pregnancy (Coming Soon!)

Labor & Delivery (Coming Soon!)

Home (Coming Soon!)

Hospital Stay #1 ~ August 2008 9w

Hospital Stay #2 ~ May 2009 11m

Our Support Teams

Dr. D was kind enough to call in a script for the Zofran. (Thank God!) My insurance will pay for 10 pills. We aren't sure if this is 10 pills at a time. Three days worth at a time (since it's prescribed 3 times a day). Or if it's 10 pills a month. I'm currently trying to figure this out. Anyway, they are dissolving tablets. Which is nice. However, in their attempt to make them not taste like asprin they made they berry flavored. Which is absolutely disgusting when you are already incredibly nauseous.

Yeah so it's Tuesday and I'm just giving the weekend update. Sue me. (Seriously, go ahead. All the "cool kids" are doing it these days. lol)

Thursday ~ L&D visit. I think I posted from my cell phone in my room.

Friday ~ L&D visit #2. Again I think I posted from my cell phone in my room. (Feel free to correct me on this and I'll fix this part of the update.)

Saturday ~ Stayed home. Absolutely miserable. On again, off again contractions with cramps.

Sunday ~ Home again. Still miserable. Still having on again, off again contractions. Tiny was moving like mad. Whoever said they slowly down on the movements when they run out of room, didn't know my son. Ate Wendy's spicy chicken for dinner. (That's the first thing I'd had to eat since Saturday at dinner.)

Monday ~ Home in the morning. Phenergan not working. Unable to keep down food or water. Probably dehydrated. Forcing down water. Trying to hold it down, failing more often than not. Went in to L&D at 1:00pm. Declared in "latent early labor", which is a fancy term for "stuck at 2cm during early labor". Once I get over this 2cm hump I may just fly. It's just a matter of getting to that point. We were in L&D for 6-7 hours. My nurse was able to see a few of my "10" contractions that for whatever reason weren't showing up on the monitor. So she was fighting to have me admitted but since I'm not changing the doctors weren't going for it. They gave me Zofran for the nausea et al. (I'm currently waiting to hear from Dr. D's office on whether they are willing to call in a script so I can keep hydrated blah blah blah.) Then they released me.

Now we wait. Well we wait. I try and stay sane. I woke up with horrible cramps - I think I only slept through them because the Ambien didn't leave me much of a choice. I was feeling pretty good this morning and made the mistake of eating a doughnut and drinking some water. The contractions have decided they don't appreciate the doughnut being in my stomach and are trying to evict it.

Lisa came at 8:00am and gave me my last 17P injection. She assured me that it will not stop what has already started. (Woo who!) I will miss her weekly visits. I will NOT miss the injections. (lol)

Rob is "nesting". I am exhausted. I think I'll let him nest and go try and nap.

I'm not sure when but I doubt it's going to be long before Tiny makes his grand enterance into the world. If you haven't already, you'll want to be sure to enter your guess into the poll we've got going!

I feel like I've been complaining, a lot; however, I am being honest. Something I hope my friends and family have come to expect from me...honesty. It's so rarely seen anymore. Many don't know it when it stares them right in the face. Other's don't care to know it at all because lying is easier.

Me? I prefer the truth. I will lie on certain things. Christmas. Birthdays. Other holidays/events where gifts or surprises are involved. But in all things big and major, I tell the truth.

I like to think that's why some of you read the blog at all. Because of the honesty you'll find here. Because it's not post after post of how rosie things might be or could be or we would like them to be. We show you the honest truth. The nitty gritty of our lives, within reason. (Let's face it, something things just aren't meant for sharing. ;) lol)

Rob and I spent the better part of 7-8 hours in L&D last night. When we arrived my contractions were 10 minutes apart. Then they were 7 minutes apart. Then 5 minutes. In the end, just before I was sent home, they were 3 minutes apart and kicking my butt.

Long story short, I was "violated" 6 ways from Sunday. Had one incredibly painful IV placed about 30 minutes before my release. And monitored for 7-8 hours. In the end, I had dilated to about 2 cm (an increase from the 1 cm/40% effaced I've been for 3-4 weeks) but that wasn't enough. I needed to dilate more and faster for it to be "true labor". They sent me home.

Elliott Richard was "spending the night" at Grandma and Grandpa G's. I used that term loosely because apparently very little sleep was had.

Gavin spent the night at Grandma and Grandpa W's. Although from what I hear, sleep was hard to come by there as well.

We got home at 2-ish am. I took a Darvocet and an Ambien to help me sleep. They finally kicked in (ie won out over the contractions) at around 4-4:30am. I slept for about 4 hours total last night. My uterus contacted away. Like the "Little Engine that Could" only without the accomplishment in the end.

We woke up. I took my morning meds. Made a quick trip to Wally World for envelopes for my cards. Came home. Laid down for a while. (Contracting 7-10 minutes apart all the while.) Grandma G and Aunt Jenny brought Elliott Richard home. Hung out with my Twitter Bug until the contractions became so bad that I was clinging to the couch for support and sobbing. Grandma G and Aunt Jenny came back. Elliott Richard was gone again.

Off to L&D we went again. So sure that "this was it". So sure we would be seeing our Tiny soon. I contracted 3-5 minutes apart all the way to the hospital. I contracted during the entire trip from the ER to L&D. I contracted and I cried.

They wheeled me into L&D. My favorite nurse, Shawn, was on shift. She saw me. Then she saw the tears and lack of smile, which I usually always wear when I see her. (She is a truly special nurse in my book.) She caught on that we meant business and it might actually be it. It took a few moments to get my ID bands on because I was doubled over in pain. I finally flung my right arm out to the side so they could band me - pain or not. They debated moving my wheelchair because of the pain. I think I half mumbled, half grunted "it won't matter". So they moved me. As if I were either made of glass or going to shred their heads from their shoulders...I'm not sure which.

I climbed into bed with a lot of help from Rob. He helped me get dressed. Something that never happens due to my fierce independence streak. I think I laid my head on his chest and sobbed for a moment. I got into bed. Shawn came in. Hooked up the monitors. And as if she had flipped a switch (a very cruel and vindictive switch) it all stopped. My contractions disappeared. The few I had weren't showing up on the monitor but were obvious upon viewing and feeling my belly. It all just came to a screeching halt.

I cried.

They checked me, again. I'm still dilated to 2cm. No change. These contractions that were bringing me to my knees sobbing in pain weren't enough to get the job done.

I cried.

Shawn came back in. She zapped Tiny with a vibrator/buzzer thingie because he was asleep and they needed to see his heart rate with some increases and decells before they could release me. She placed it on my belly and *buzzt*. Tiny literally jumped from his spot head down with his back in the center of my belly to the left side of my belly. As far away from the violating "buzzt" as he could get. All in one moment, Shawn "buzzt" Tiny. Tiny jumped. And my entire uterus seized up in a massive contraction.

They were all happy with the outcome. We were discharged. The nurse who discharged me (not my beloved Shawn) said that the "seasoned nurses" swear by spicy food and sex. I've been eating spicy food. The other is a no-no while on strict bed rest, which Dr. D is adamant I continue until Tiny arrives or 37 weeks - whichever comes first.

We came home again.

Gavin is still with Grandma and Grandpa W.

Elliott was with Grandma and Grandpa G until about 2 hours ago. They were nice enough to bring him home along with Taco Bell for me (spicy food on a budget) and a sundae for Rob. Elliott fell asleep in the car. Rob carried him to bed.

I feel like a horrible mother.

I didn't get to say "amens" (aka prayers) with Elliott Richard last night or tonight. I love to say "amens" with him. I didn't get to tuck Gavin in or remind him that he needed to sleep and turn the TV off at 10pm last night or tonight.

When Tiny comes, if Heaven forbid he is in the NICU, I know I will camp out at the hospital. I will not leave. I will sleep in whichever room they see fit to give me. I will drag myself from bed every 3 hours to help feed him. I will pump enough milk to put most dairy cows to shame. I will ask questions. I will beg for chances to change diapers and watch baths. I will stalk my son, his nurses, his doctors and anyone else who may possibly have information on his progress and prognosis. My life Gavin and Elliott Richard, will be placed on hold. I will miss them. I will love them (no less or no more than Tiny). But I will be where I am needed most. And so the good of the two will stumble while I focus on the good of the one.

There is no doubt in my mind that Rob will at some point attempt to lure me home. Attempt to lure me back to normalcy. I can't fathom that. I can't fathom a sense of "normalcy" with one child fighting for life while the other two live. I can't make that work out in my head.

In the end of July, I will be summoned to court. To defend myself against charges that have no basis within the scope of the real world. I will be drug my newborn child. Ripped away from him. I will likely be his only source for food. And yet, I will go. I will go because in the end of July, just as those few days from now, I will fight for the good of the one. While the good of the two must suffer. I will be angry. I will be hormonal. It's likely that I will be blunt, which may or may not work to my favor. However, the fact will remain that for that day Gavin will be the good of the one. Elliott Richard and Tiny will be the good of the two placed on temp hold.

Until then, I am trying to find a way to survive. The contractions on a 10 on the lovely pain scale (that we all know I love so much) of 1-10. (1 being no pain at all and 10 being "a shark could be ripping my limbs off and I would not notice") I'm so tired that Ambien on an empty stomach still takes 3 hours to kick-in over the pain. I'm so frustrated with my body and it's sudden unwillingness to follow through. When I've been fighting it for 4 months to NOT follow through. I'm so frustrated that I struggle to see and feel the miracle that is every movement of Tiny within my belly. And this makes me feel horrible beyond words.

How many women would die to be me at this very moment? How many would love nothing more and yet will not be granted such a miracle? What right do I have to complain and be irritated with the miracle that is our unborn son, when I myself was told 3 years that he was a complete and total impossibility.

For all of these things, and many other things that simply were unable to penetrate my sleep-hazy mind, I will not be awarded "Mother of the Year". I am sorry to disappoint. I am a mother. I am a human. I am not Super Mom. At least, I'm honest about it. That counts for something, right?

Sha'Nay'Nay is my alter ego. She's the name I go by when I've had enough of my life and I want to be someone else for a while. That's the name I answer to when I can't stand the sound of Mom, Mommy, Mama, Lizze etc. Although no one calls me that anyway so I honestly don't know why I bother.

I've been trying to formulate a blog in my head all day. Nothing sounds good. Nothing does justice to life. And I don't want to sound like "Wendy Whiner" as my Daddy used to call me. Mostly, I just don't really know where to start.

My stomach is killing me. I can say with complete sincerity that I have rarely had pain like this in my life. And I've injured myself quite a bit between 8 years of gymnastics and being a typical hyperactive kid growing up. At least with all of my various injuries, the pain peaked and then began to subside at some point. There is no peak. There is no subsiding. It's just a plateau of intense pain at this point. My stomach/diaphragm muscle is so exhausted from the pain of it all that I can physically feel tremors in it.

You know, rarely in my life have I ever been speechless. I just love to talk. I usually have an opinion on just about everything. But now...I've got nothing. That's how overwhelmed and far gone I am at this point with everything. Rob met with Pattie tonight. He's told me what was discussed. I don't remember it. I'm sure he'll tell you what he can later.

I was a complete slacker today. I didn't make any cards. I didn't update Tiny's pregnancy journals and calendars. I played solitaire on my phone. Watched a lot of pointless television. Napped off and on. And now I'm going to take half of my night-time medications and then I'll take the other half later. Who knows, perhaps I'll have something insightful to babble about once they kick in. Seems to be how it works out every other night. *sigh*

Honestly, I don't know if today is day 98. I've lost track. Not that it matters much. The whole point is that I've been on strict bed rest now for over 3 months! And bed rest in general for just over 4 months. Insanity.

Tomorrow is my second to last appointment with Lisa. It's bitter sweet because while I will definitely miss her. I will not miss the injections. (lol)

I just can't believe that we are winding down to the end. It seems like just the other day I was "late" and shocked to find myself carrying another little miracle. (Never tell me I can't do something because that's a sure-fire way to guarantee it. lol)

Now of course Tiny is massive. His butt in planted in my ribs and causing pain pretty darn close to what I had with the DVT while pregnant with Elliott Richard. I would double over with the pain, except that bending at the "waist" (my waist disappeared a long time ago lol) makes the pain worse. So I just try and stretch out as much as possible to minimize the pain. It's actually making living and functioning quite unbearable at the moment.

We still don't have a name for Tiny. I've resigned myself to one of a few things taking place:

1) I will simply put "Tiny" on his birth certificate and be done with it. (Not likely but looking more appealling everyday.)
2) I will just let Rob fill out the paperwork and wash my hands of the whole thing. (Again, not likely but looking more appealling everyday.)
3) I will just open a baby name book and name him the first thing I place my finger on. (Girl or boy, I don't care at this point.)

Rob has been trying to discuss names lately and I honestly want nothing at all to do with it. The idea of discussing names physically turns my stomach. Gavin is convinced Tiny's name is Alex and when I explain that we don't know what his name is I get screamed at. *sigh* I honestly hate all names at this point. Rob asked me for my top picks the other day. I don't have any. I hate them all. None of them feels right. None of them sounds right. I'm just over-loaded on stupid baby names. I mean honestly, do I look like a chick that needs more pressure right now?! *pfth* Whatever. Forget it.

I was going to write more but the pain in my belly is getting worse. I keep expecting to look where it hurts and see a bruise there. I'm always surprised when it isn't there. I have cards to get done. A mess to clean up from making the cards that need finished. And I have to try and maintain some sanity through this pain. (Not likely.)

98 down ~ 37 to go

Wow. I can't believe the weekend flew by so quickly. Not that weekends hold any "special" meaning apart from the rest of the week at this point. But anywho...

Let's see if I can remember what went on this weekend.

Friday - Gavin spent the night with Grandma W. Rob, Elliott Richard and I stayed in and hung out. Same song; different day.

Saturday - Rob, Elliott Richard and I hung out. I worked on cards. Rob fiddled with the desktop and straightened up around the house. Elliott Richard spent most of the day with Aunt Kate and Grandma G doing some running around and shopping. After Grandma W brought Gavin home the three of us packed up and headed over to Grandma and Grandpa G's to celebrate Father's Day. Everyone was there. And I was thrilled to learn that even though we were "fashionably late" we hadn't missed out on the cookout! (Yippee!) And I ate *way* too much food. (lol)

Grandpa G got a set of ceramic coasters that look like big golf balls. (Very cute.) He also got an Indian's jersey and tickets for him and Mom G to an Indian's game. Mom G got an Indian's t-shirt too! (Very cool!) They are both really excited to go.

Then Rob opened his card from everyone and found a gift certificate for Best Buy inside! :) (Thanks guys!) We left not long after the opening of gifts/cards and of course made a beeline for Best Buy. (lol) Rob picked out a game for the PC while the boys and I waited in the car. Which was *loads* of fun. (That's sarcasm, by the way.)

First, Elliott Richard was moving around in his carseat. He wasn't touching Gavin or even attempting to touch him. Yet Gavin decided he didn't like the fact that Elliott was moving in his general area so he began to scream at Elliott and then scream at me to "make him stop". I told Gavin I can't yell at Elliott for *moving*. Which of course set Gavin off further. *sigh* Then Elliott wanted Gavin's attention for something so he said his name. Which set Gavin off, again! That time Gavin began screaming at me, "Mom! Mom! He's saying my name! Tell him to stop! I don't want him saying my name!" Again I told Gavin that Elliott is free to say whatever he likes (barring cuss words etc) and I would not yell at Elliott for saying Gavin's name. Which set him off, again! At that point I just told Gavin to ignore Elliott because I refuse to yell at Elliott for taking up space or taking and there was nothing else that could be done.

I am honestly at a loss for what to do anymore. While Gavin has every right to feel the way he does. And while I understand that a large part of it is due to his "something more". I will *not* reprimand Elliott Richard for merely existing, taking up space, or talking etc. That's not to say that I won't reprimand Elliott if he actually misbehaving (ie right up in Gavin's face, screaming at him etc) because I will. The same will hold true for Tiny. I don't mean to sound cold or heartless but I will not constantly relocate Tiny and myself because Gavin is upset by his crying. I also will not reprimand Elliott Richard for being a little boy because it doesn't jive with Gavin's view of the world. I know he can't help it. I just don't know how we live wth him/along side him. With two small boys under the age of 3 and Gavin that's something that needs to be figured out. *sigh*

Sunday - Father's Day was pretty quiet around here. Grandma and Grandpa G took the boys to see Great Grandpa B and celebrate Father's Day with Grandma G's side of the family. They had a blast! And Rob and I were given one last little break before the sleep deprivation begins. :)

Overall, it was a pretty low-key weekend, which was nice. At least there wasn't anything too out of the ordinary or stressful going on.

Now I need to find a way to make something smoothered in cheese for dinner....yum....gooey cheese...

So lately I've had to start taking an Ambien at night to sleep through the contractions (that accomplish nothing) and the back pain (which also accomplishes nothing). Ambien is a wonderful thing for a 34 week bed-rest bound pregnant woman. I still wake up if I have to pee or if Elliott Richard needs me. But I do not wake up for half-hearted contractions,, charlie-horses or stabbing siatic back pain. Unfortunately, I have developed a tendancy to have off-the-wall conversations with Rob (in person) and Nikky (via text messages). (lol) And the dreams I have towards the end, when it's wearing off, are...quite...interesting.

Take last night's dream for example, I dreamt that I woke up in bed next to Rob and I had slept through most of labor and pushing! I awoke to find Tiny's head already out and looking at me!! (Ack!) In my dream, I wasn't freaked out by the fact that his head was out and he was looking up at me. He had the cutest chubby cheeks and a head full of hair. (Gavin was born completely bald. Elliott Richard had some strawberry blonde peach fuzz that was either shaved off or pulled out during IV's etc in the NICU.) I just finished pushing and out he came.

It was kind of nice because everything was very calm and peaceful. No second guessing. No running around like chickens with our heads cut off. Just pushing and snuggling. Although I prefer for that "pushing and snuggling" to take place within the safety of my local L&D. (lol)

Rob said he had a dream about Tiny being born as well. Perhaps he'll share that later because I haven't heard the details of it yet.

We are supposed to go to Mom & Dad G's tonight to celebrate Father's Day. I think it will depend on how I'm feeling as to whether or not we go. For now, I'm off to work. (haha) The cards won't make themselves, that's for sure. ;)

95 down ~ 40 to go

So I've had like 4 or 5 different appointments this week. I can't believe I haven't updated on any of them.

Actually, I can believe I haven't updated on them. I haven't updated because my laptop died. It's official. It's dead and gone. So now I have to use the desktop. I don't like using the desktop. It's a perfectly lovely little desktop. And I'm sure Rob could tell you all about all the bells and whistles that it has, which make it a really cool (sweet, awesome - insert adjective here). But the fact of the matter is, I'm spoilt. I was used to writing my blog and surfing the net where ever I was at any given moment. I was used to not having to share. Now I have to share. And I may be crazy but I think this keyboard hates me. (I'm just throwing that out there.) So it's more difficult for me to post now.

Anyway, here's the run down of the appointments:

Tuesday June 10th - Lisa came bright and early at 8:00am. (For what it's worth, when I set up the standing weekly appointment at 8:00am every Tuesday I was already up. Now that school is out, not so much.) I can't find the stats for that appointment. So we'll just assume that all was well in the land of Tiny.

Wednesday June 11th - As Rob previously posted I was scheduled to have my BPP and NST at the hospital at 7:00pm, however, they called and asked me to come in at 3:00pm because the tech who was scheduled to perform my NST called in sick. This meant that the family members we had invited could not make it because they were all at work. It also meant that we had to run around like chickens with our heads chopped off in order to get everyone ready and where they needed to be. In the end, everyone got ready. Everyone got where they needed to be. Here are the stats:


After the BPP we went upstairs to L&D (my favorite place to be) for my NST. It went pretty smoothly. I had a few contractions but nothing major and was released after 30-45 minutes. Here are those stats:


Thursday June 12th - We saw Dr. D at 11:00am. I asked him about feeling woozy lately. Told him about my extreme nausea. Was given a refill on my Phenergan. And had my blood sugar and iron levels checked. He also said that if I go into labor before 37 weeks, he won't try and stop it. He'll just let me go and allow Tiny to make his grand entrance. He also gave me an end date for this all. He said that if I make it to 37 weeks, he will release me. So at 37 weeks I can stop taking the Procardia, no more Heparin injections and full release from bed rest. (Yippee!) So the end is in 3 weeks unless Tiny decides otherwise. Here are the stats from that appointment:


I turned out to be slightly anemic so they started me on iron suppliments. I made the mistake of taking them a few hours ago and all they did was make my nausea worse. So now I'm hot and nausous and I can't get it to go away even with the Phenergan.

(PS I'll scan the ultrasound pics and post them later. Oh and the spinkle pictures and belly pictures too.)

94 down ~ 41 to go

What Tiny is up to this week: Your amazing baby is on the move! They’ve been riding fairly high in your stretched-out womb till now (while kindly compressing your poor internal organs), but now they’re planning on making the big move to your pelvis this week. If you haven’t noticed it already, you’ll be feeling the weight shift that signals that your baby is most likely out of breech position, with their head now resting on your pubic bone. In liver news: although not quite fully formed, your little miracle’s liver is now capable of processing a certain amount of waste. In general, most of your child’s prenatal physical development is pretty much up to snuff and ready for the outside world. Naturally, further weight gain is expected—so you’re still not at maximum capacity despite probably feeling like you definitely are maxed out.

Wow. I've spent 90 days on strict bed rest. That's just unreal to me. Of course, I've broken out of jail a few times during those 90 days but still. It's been 90 days since preterm labor went from a concern and possibility to a reality. It's been 16 weeks since the ER docs said we were experiencing a "threatened abortion" (I still hate that term.) and if it happened it wouldn't be our fault. Tiny's a fighter, that's for sure. I just hope he has it in him to fight for another 4 weeks.

I've spent the weekend having crazy contractions. They were consistantly 15-20 minutes apart, which is nothing new. But some of them were lasting for 5-10 minutes a piece. I woke up this morning with cramps that were so bad I actually thought for a split second that I was getting ready to start my period. Then I remembered that I was pregnant and that wasn't going to happen. After debating all day, Rob finally called Dr. D's office. They had me come in at 4:10pm.

I had an NST and fFN test done. Dr. D said that while I was having some contractions things looked good. He said that if I go into labor at this point he isn't going to stop me. He'll just let me go and allow Tiny to enter into the world. They gave me a shot of Demerol/Phenergan to help with the pain and nausea from everything. I must admit, it was nice to be relatively pain-free for a little while.

The Stats
Weight: 183 (I gained 4lb! Yay!)
Tiny's Heartrate: 147bpm
NST: passed (3 cx/20m)

For now we are just waiting. Again. I'll be sure to update if anything changes. I'm hoping to make it to 36 weeks but Rob thinks it will be sooner. Let's hope not.

Rob is now cleaning like a mad man. I think he's nesting enough for the both of us. (lol) We have a lot we need to get figured out PDQ. I need to get a duffle bag and pack it for me. Have bags packed and ready for the boys. Have arrangements made for who is taking which boy. There is so much to be done and I just don't have the energy to do any of it.

90 days down ~ 45 to go
13 weeks down ~ 5 to go

I need to write up my own update. I know this. I keep trying. The fact of the matter is that I'm so exhausted, I'm lucky to function at all. My morning (all-day) sickness has returned and the phenergan isn't touching it. Although eventually it does knock me out for a few hours. So I guess I'm getting away from it that way. As soon as I can find 15 mins to myself in this mad-house, I swear I'll post an update. For now, know that we are surviving...for the moment.

A- Attached or single: Attached

B- Best Friend(s): Rob & My Mommy

C- Cake or Pie: Cake

D- Day of Choice: Monday

E- Essential Item (s): Pop, journals, art supplies, pens, cell phone, PC

F-Favorite type of music: Christian and Country

G- Gummy Bears or Worms: Sour Patch Kids

H- Hometown: NE Ohio

I-Indulgence(s): pop, chocolate, art supplies, pens, journals

J- January or July: July (for mine and Tiny's birthdays) January (for the weather - I hate the HEAT!)

K- Kids: 2.5

L- Last movie: August Rush (awesome flick!)

M- Marriage Date: September 2003

N- Number of Siblings: 1 brother (2 - 1/2 sisters I don't have contact/relationships with)

O- Oranges or Apples: Both

P- Phobias or Fears: Small Spaces, needles, water, spiders

Q- Quote(s): Bad luck is something we endure. Good luck is something we create. ~ Bobby Kennedy

R- Reason To Smile: My family

S- Season: Spring

T- Tag : Nikky (because it's so much fun to mess with her lol), Julie, Slade, Apple

U- Unknown Fact About Me:

V-Vegetarian or Oppressor of Animals: I eat meat. Does that mean I'm an oppressor of animals?

W-Worst Habit: Procrastination

X- X-Rays or Ultrasounds: Ultrasounds

Y- Your Favorite Food: Mexican

Z- Zodiac: Cancer

89 down ~ 46 to go

I can't believe it's morning already. Last night seemed to go on....forever.


Elliott Richard is getting sick. He doesn't seem to have any symptoms other than a fever and a grumpy disposition at the moment. He didn't sleep for crap last night, which in turn means that we didn't sleep for crap either. We gave him some tylenol and he seems to slowly be making a come-back. Genetics seem to work in his favor here because Rob and I both tend to get sick and then recover pretty quick. (Rob just tends to get sicker since he doesn't get sick very often. Whereas I tend to get whatever it is to a lesser degree but I get it more often.)


I woke up feeling like I had a night of charlie horses in my right leg and uterus all night. I am so incredibly sore it's unreal to me right now. I don't know how I managed to sleep through a bunch of charlie horses but it feels as if I did. My stomach feels as if I was beaten on in my sleep. Rob keeps asking me if I need to call Dr. D's office because I'm in so much pain and discomfort at the moment. I don't think I'm in labor or anything. It's probably just normal pregnancy related torture. (Thank you, Tiny.)


Today is officially the last day of school. I honestly can't take the time to feel overwhelmed at the idea of Gavin home all day everyday.


87 down ~ 48 to go

What Tiny is up to this week: For all the weight and bulk you’re lugging around these days, you’d think your little champ should weigh much more than a mere 5 lbs and measly 17 inches in height, but nope, that’s about the average size for a baby in its thirty-third week. In terms of appearances, they’re getting cuter and pudgier every minute as they pile on the baby fat for those adorable little wrist rolls and chubby toes. And as we’re sure you’ve already noticed they’re getting stronger with every passing day. Nowadays, it’s possible to observe a well-placed kick just by watching your belly—but you already knew that didn’t you? Although they’re getting stronger, your bigger-by-the-day baby is losing space to move around, so the actual rate of movement will drop off in the last few weeks, despite that powerful drop-kick they’ve been working on. Hey, did you know you’ll continue feeling their movements even during labor?

As you can see from the sidebar, Tiny has gone back to Tiny because we can't decide on a name. Again. *sigh*

It's shaping up to be "one of those days".

I should have known when I woke up 5:30 - 6:00am with a charlie horse so bad that all I could do was cry, that it wasn't likely to be a good day. Poor Rob asking me which leg it was so that he could rub it but I couldn't even talk I was in so much pain. After that charlie horse went away, I had...I'm not sure what it was. It felt like a charlie horse only it was in my uterus not my legs. By the time I worked my way through all of those, it was time to get up and get Gavin ready for school.

That's when the fun really began! When we got up, Gavin was already awake and watching cartoons when I stumbled out of the bedroom at 7:30-ish. When Rob asked him to get dressed and put his socks on, Gavin lost it. He started screaming how we woke him up (we didn't), we were mean (we try not to be), he hated his life (we're doing our jobs as parents then). On and on he went. I can't wait for the last day of school tomorrow. Then he'll be home with us all day, every day. (Um...yay?)

86 down ~ 49 to go

Just got home from my NST, BPP and appointment with Dr. D. Things went well. (Yay!) We had the BPP first. Tiny is looking good. She didn't take measurements because she does those every two weeks and we just measured him on Thursday. So he'll get measured next week at the hospital. He was such a trooper. Breathing as soon as we started and then breathing through the whole BPP. He was moving his hands and fingers around. He's still head down and from what I can tell "locked and loaded". Barb was trying to get us a picture of his profile and it was so cute because the umbilical cord was right in front of his mouth (the cord looks like bubbles on an ultrasound) and Tiny had his lips puckered so it looked like he was blowing bubbles! (lol) Barb tried to get a picture of it for us but she couldn't get a good one because my hip bone was in the way (that's how far "head down" he is!). It was so cute to see though. So Tiny passed his BPP with flying colors again. (Double yay!)

After the BPP we had the NST. I passed even though I had 3 contractions during the half hour test. Tiny was moving around and his heartrate was having all the appropriate decells and whatnot. I think he only moves because the monitors on my belly make him so angry; other wise I don't know that he'd move that much. (lol) Those 3 contractions were kicking my butt though. It was bad enough that I woke up with morning sickness again this morning. Then the contractions were making my back hurt and giving me cramps. It sucked.

Once we finished up with the NST we got to see Dr. D for a minutes. I asked him about the return of the evil morning sickness. He said it was normal. I told him I have been taking my phenergan for it. He said, "Oh the 12.5mg?" I laughed and told him that I was taking the full 25 mg and I was lucky if that took the edge off, forget about getting rid of it. (lol)

Now we just hang out until next week. I have to go to the hospital next Wednesday for my BPP and NST because Barb is on vacation. Then I see Dr. D on Thursday to go over the results. (Yay!) I can't wait to see how much he's grown in two weeks. :)

The Stats
Weight: 179lb
at least I managed to maintain my weight with the return of the morning sickness)BP: 96/63
Tiny's Heartrate: 137bpm
Fundal Height: 33 cm
(right on target which is good considering he's already head down and locked in place)
BPP: Passed
NST: Passed (only 3 contractions)

After we finished up at Dr. D's office we had to stop and pay a bill. Then Rob took me for Chic-Fil-A on our way back to Mom and Dad G's to pick up Elliott Richard. (It was being delivered to Dr. D's office as we were leaving and it smelled heavenly!) We hung out at Mom's for a little while. I finished off my lunch. Elliott Richard took bites from each end of his kickin' strips. Then we headed for school to pick Gavin up.

I admit it. I cheated. I went in to the school and said Hi to everyone. It was so great to be there! I can't even tell you how much I have missed picking Gavin up and seeing everyone 5 days a week. That was by far the best "pick me up" I've had in a while. (Not that the sprinkle wasn't an awesome "pick me up" because it was. It was just different.) Plus, not to sound completely narcissistic here but it was nice just to be missed. (lol)

Now I'm back at home with my feet up. Just like I'm supposed to be. I'm trying to listen to the radio on the internet but they are being difficult! The only one I can get to work is MSN/Pandora's and they don't have a very large selection. It's mostly mainstream rock/pop/r&B stuff, which I don't really care for. I was looking for a good christian pop station but they don't seem to exist. :(

Lisa just left. Only 3 more 17P injections to go! (Woo who!) Apparently since my 18th shot would have fallen on 36 weeks and 6 days my insurance company doesn't see the benefit. Dr. D agrees so it's all good. Plus let's face it, it's one less shot for me! (Yay!)

The Stats
BP: 100/60
Tiny's Heartrate: 130bpm

I've got an appointment at 10:20am for my weekly BPP and NST. I can't wait to see Tiny again! :) Hopefully we pass with flying colors again.

I need to scan last weeks BPP pics and post them. I also have some of the sprinkle pictures ready but I need to upload them before I can post them. Maybe I'll get it all done this afternoon.

You know for a woman on bed rest, you'd think I'd have plenty of time to get all this done. But you'd be surprised how much I have to do. And how difficult it is to do most of it on bed rest.

85 days down ~ 50 to go
13 injections down ~ 4 to go
12 weeks down ~ 6 to go

Seriously. I quit. I'm done. I want out. I want a new life. If anyone knows of any crimes I can witness that will get us into the Witness Protection Program...please let me know. Because right now, that's the only way I see out of this disaster.

So far we have spent $400.00 on trying to fix this disaster that passes for a "house". When last I updated on "The Leak" we were trying to figure out how we were going to afford to replace 2 toilets for an additional $400.00. Apparently, once again, that was the least of our concerns.

After the guy snaked the lines everything was running much better. We breathed a sigh of relief. We dared to think that maybe, just maybe our luck was beginning to turn around. Maybe the rain was going to stop and things were going to get better. *insert insane laughter here* Yeah, right. That might happen if we were talking about someone else's life. But this is MY LIFE. The life where things rarely go as they should. Where the sh*t storms last for weeks and months at a time. This is my life, where "bad" people do bad things and good people get the crap that bad people deserve.

Then we woke up this morning. We used the bathroom because it was fixed, right? WRONG. WRONG. WRONG.

We flushed the toilet twice and everything was working fine. After the third person flushed, everything came back up. When I say everything, I mean everything. The toilet over-flowed so there's stuff on the floor, which happens to be carpeted for reasons beyond my understanding. Stuff flowed back up into the bathtub. And we think, although we aren't sure, that stuff came up/down from somewhere in the 1/2 bath on the first floor. Which means that snaking the line didn't help the issue. Granted, it needed done anyway. However, financially we only can "afford" to what absolutely must be done. And I use the term "afford" very loosely here.

We are, quite literally, drowning in crap at the moment.

*side note* Does anyone know where my slightly altered quote in my title of this blog came from? It's a movie that I haven't watched since my partying days but the quote fits. (It's supposed to be "F*ck you." rather than "Forget you" but I'm trying not to cuss anymore. So "forget you" it is.)