Here we go again...
7:22:00 PM Posted In 28 weeks , Announcement , Bed Rest , Pregnancy Edit This 4 Comments »Prayers much appreciated.
What Tiny is up to this week: You know how you’ve been feeling a bit like a barn with legs? Well, that feeling won’t subside before… well, you know, when you finally give birth. For the time being, you’ve got yourself a baby in the business of collecting fat and lots of it! In spite of the dubious joys of being a human-barn, this baby fat business is very serious and you’ve got to put up with it because it’s going to keep your little porker warm and healthy after birth. Other good stuff from inside: their eyes are doing lots of blinking this week because they’re now able to respond to light and dark. Also, their industrious little bone marrow is now a major construction site for developing red blood cells, while their super-cute adrenal glands are actually producing androgen and estrogen—which will stimulate your hormones to begin milk production. Can you say, “Moo?”
Current shots in my arms: Freak-out factor of 5 (I hate it. It sucks. But I can turn away and close my eyes and "find my happy place".)
Current shots in my stomach: Freak-out factor of 15 (It terrifies me more than I can say.)
Current shots in my thighs: Freak-out factor of 8.5 (I was so freaked out and terrified that I almost puked. That is how bad my needle phobia is.)
Theory #1: Procreation and Fertilization
We need to evolve so that the second there is a fertilized egg that successfully implants, there is a warning. I don't care what this warning is. It could be a literal glow, like our whole belly just *lights up*. Or a light within our belly button. Heck, in keeping with the "pee on a stick" tradition, something could change with our urine. Whatever it is, it needs to be obvious. It needs to scream, "Hey you, lady! You're pregnant!" Perhaps if the pregnancy results in twins (or more) the light within the belly button could be...flashing. Something to say, "Oh and by the way, there's more than one."
Theory #2: Notification of SexThere now we have it established that not only am I pregnant, but the sex and number of fetus(es). The next problem to arise with pregnancy, is naming the child.
No. No. No. I do not mean a notification that you are going to have sex or have had sex. Hopefully you already picked up on those signals and they resulted in Theory #1.
I mean that the sex of the child (fetus/embryo - whatever) is determined at fertilization. Therefore it's perfectly reasonable to want to be notified as soon as possible as to the sex. (For those of you who wish to be "surprised" - sorry surprises have no room in my theories.)
Oh, I know! The light! (Or the urine, whichever option you went with. If you went with urine and you have boy/girl twins then your urine would be purple.) The light will be blue or pink depending upon the sex of the child. And if it does happen to be boy/girl twins it would flash pink and blue, alternating of course. Yes, that's perfect. The light is directly tied to the sex. (And for those of you who don't like "blue for boys and pink for girls" - again I'm sorry. These are my theories and it's just easier to have blue = boys and pink= girls. Nothing sexist about it. It's all about convenience.)
Theory #3: The Naming
As some of you know, naming a child can be HELL! Sure, sometimes it works out all nice and neat...You open that baby name book to exactly the right page at that exactly right, cosmic moment and the stars align, the angels sing and the name literally jumps up off the page and does a little jig for while screaming "ME! ME! ME! I'm the perfect name!"Well, to those of you who are lucky enough to have those moments...pfth on you! :p
The rest of us spend hours upon hours, reading every baby name book ever written (no matter how obscure), searching websites, checking meanings, popularity, spellings...the list goes on and on. We find a name and it feels "sort of right" but not quite there. Kind of like your second favorite pair of jeans. The pair that are your first choice only when your favorite pair is dirty and in the wash. They fit. They feel okay. But they just aren't perfect! So we keep looking. We re-read the baby name books, the websites. We ask friends, family, the telemarketer that dared to call, and the cashier at the grocery store what names they like. We consider every name ever known to man. Literally. No name is too off-the-wall for a brief period...
Cosmo, Tallulah, Nevaeh...the list goes on and on. Just look at the celebrities! Do you think they wanted to name their children "Pilot Inspector" or "Fifi-Trixiebelle"?! No! Of course they didn't. But they couldn't decide. It came down to the wire. Their children were going to have blank birth certificates and go through life as "Baby Boy" or "Baby Girl", which honestly may have been preferable to the chosen names but that's neither here nor there. Now those poor children are saddled with horrible names! That's a lot of pressure on a parent!
There has to be a way to find out what our children are destined to be named without the hours of reading and stressing. Let's see...for the religious (or non-sci-fi inclined) we could go with a dream. A divine intervention if you will. You go to sleep (having already had your pink and/or blue light warning) and the child comes to you and tells you, "My name is..." There you go, problem solved. In the time span of a week tops, you have managed to not only discover that you are pregnant but also learn the pre-destined name for your child(ren). At this point you breathe deep sigh of relief and focus on enjoying your pregnancy. (Ah, life is good.)
But...wait...what's that? You aren't the religious type and don't really believe in "divine intervention dreams"? Okay, fine then. Let's see...we could go sci-fi? Something along the lines of "Battlestar Galactica". I mean we have colored lights in our belly buttons so why not run with that, right? So, you've had you light experience. You now know you are pregnant. You also know the number of fetus(es) and the sex(es). At that point, your body is kind enough to spit out a print out. I'll allow you to use your imagination as to where this print out comes from. (Get your mind out of the gutter! Shame on you. Honestly, this is a family blog!) I was thinking along the lines of mouth, ear, or slit from behind your ear. Whatever. with the name destined for your child.
Theory #4: The Warning System
For those of us prone to high risk pregnancies and even for those prone but blissfully unaware of what's looming on the horizon, there should be an advanced warning system. I honestly don't care what it is. A letter from God in the mail would work. Another divine intervention dream. Or in keeping with the light theory, the light could change to RED. Bright, nearly blinding red that simply screams "WARNING". This light would also activate if at any point something goes "wrong" allowing the mother-to-be to know that, "Hey, we need to book it to L&D!" (I can't tell you how many times I've begged for this warning system over the past 6 months.) This warning system would also serve double duty, it would also serve as warning for the OB as well. That way there's no question. It's not the mother-to-be being over-protective or worrying too much. It means there is something off that needs to be explored.
There we have it. Pregnancy from start to finish. No muss. No fuss. No questioning. No second-guessing. Just in and out, "Pregnancy in a Can" if you will. All the convenience of fast food without the calories! ;) lolTheory #5: Labor & Delivery
When it comes time for "the big day", again there should be warning. Some of us are lucky enough to have our water obviously break in the very beginning. Thereby forcing us to stop and say, "Uh oh, it's time." However, most of us never get that warning. So we spend hours and days and sleepless nights trying to time contractions and judge on a ridiculous scale of 1-10 what our pain is. (I hate that stupid scale.) When we should be resting. Or not worrying because it's false labor. Or hauling booty to L&D because "it's time" was actually 12 hours ago, which means you are rapidly approaching the land of no return. Other wise known as, "the land of NO EPIDURAL"! (AH! The horror! And for those of you who prefer natural childbirth, bravo for you. However, if God had intended for me to go naturally he would have seen fit to have me born before epidurals were discovered. As I was not born then - at least not that I can recall - I choose to go with the beloved epidural.)
So there needs to be a warning system here as well. Let's see...it can't be the same as Theory #4's warning system. That would be entirely too confusing. So let's just make it completely obvious, shall we?On the religious/non-sci-fi front, we could yet another divine intervention dream. It's a simple dream. A timer is all we need. So you close your eyes. Go to sleep. And all you dream is a rapidly counting down timer telling you that you have X days, X hours, X minutes, X seconds before "it's time" becomes "Happy Birthday".
For the sci-fi inclined, rather than a dream we still get the timer. (X days, X hours, X minutes, X seconds) Only it shows across our belly. No denying that warning now is there. Either way you have an idea of how long before the end, which gives you plenty of time to haul booty to L&D and get that beloved epidural (if you so choose). Or to wait it out at home before calling your midwife and having a baby.
WE'VE GOT SNUGGLING!
As y'all read in Rob's post yesterday Elliott Richard nearly got an elbow to the head for simply touching Gavin and sort of trying to snuggle with him then.
So this morning while Elliott Richard was watching "Finding Nemo" (for what I'm sure is the 100th time this week) and Gavin came downstairs for a bit, I was shocked to see this! :)
It started with Elliott coming up behind Gavin and hugging him. When Gavin didn't throw and elbow and sat on the floor, Elliott went for broke and curled up in his lap! :)
I just love this picture of them together! Okay so Gavin has a pained expression on his face but work with me here. I love how Elliott is snuggling him and looking up at him.
Heck, I just love the fact that it happened at all. Pained expression or not. :)
Today may actually turn out to be a pretty good day. *crosses fingers* God willing.
Curls, waves and flips...oh my!
The bed highjacker returns to the scene of the crime...again!
He's now taken to scooting up and sitting in my pillow anytime I get up off the bed! (lol)Elliott Richard washing his feet.
I love this one although you really can't see what's going on. He climbed up onto my bed, pointed to his feet and said "sticky". (He had spilt his juice and walked through it before we got it mopped up.) So I handed him a wipe and he went to town for a good five minutes, washing his feet. I have a really cute video of it...if I could get blogger or photobucket or someone to post it! Argh.
This picture was made and signed by Gavin and his classmates. The flowers are tracings of their hands that they cut out and rolled to make flowers. (How stinking adorable is that?!)
Between my flowers and the collage I was crying like a baby. It was all so sweet.
I feel truly blessed to have so many wonderful, caring people involved in our lives. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.
Ice!
This was the only way I could get fluids down for a week straight. I had no idea I could cough my throat that raw.
Lip balm
My lips have been dry this entire pregnancy, no matter how much I drink. But that was nothing compared to how dry my lips were with all that hacking, which does not feel any better when your lips are cracked and bleeding. Just for the record.
And that my friends is how I managed to come out on the other side. :)
47 down ~ 88 to go
I am the co-sleeping, attachment parenting, no-spanking mama. Outside of my family, I live for art and writing. I keep journals, baby books, date books...anything to help me help my boys know who we are, where we came from and all that we've survived. My children are my life. I struggle everyday with my relationship with God and trying to end my crisis of faith. I have Fibromyalgia, which is a chronic pain disorder and effects every aspect of my life. I love to write and the act of writing, which I believe is a dying art. I am a cat person. I love my Cleo and I don't care for dogs. That being said, I love my Maggie Sue and Henry James. I love my friends and family, everything I do is for them. I think, more than I should. I talk, more than most. I'm creative, in almost everything I do.
Rob, my darling husband is everything I could ever want in a spouse. He's my best friend, a wonderful father to our boys, and a dedicated provider. He would give you the shirt off his back if he thought it would help. The again, he could also sell ice to eskimos if the mood struck him. He runs our construction company and our computer repair business. Then he spends what precious free-time he has learning all he can about electronics and computers. He enjoys creating operating systems for smart phones and sharing them with other smart phone users. He also loves the outdoors, playing video games, playing with the boys, creating slide shows from pictures and videos with music, and hanging out with family. He is one of the most caring and compassionate people I've ever had the joy to know and I love him more than words could ever express. He has sacrificed so very much for our family and we all love him so much. For once, I don't have the words to express it adequately.
Gavin is my oldest. He's seen more in 10 years than most have seen in a lifetime, only he doesn't have the tools to process any of it. He has Asperger's/high-functioning Autism, OCD, ADHD, Bi-Polar Disorder, PICA, Sensory Integration Disorder and Conduct Disorder. Not to mention that he's prone to psychological breakdowns. He's quick and clever, highly intelligent and incredibly manipulative. He's a blue belt in Karate, loves art class and writing stories, and excells in math and science. He loves his blankets and tries to sleep with more stuffed animals than he has room for in bed. He loves Legos and it's nothing short of amazing the things I've seen him do with them. Gavin's entire world is in his head. Some days he is so lost in his own universe, that we are lucky to get through to him and connect at all. Whereas some days, he seems fine. He interacts with us and seems like every other American boy. Other days we can't seem to do anything right and everything sets him off because he's so sensitive from not being used to "living on the outside". To that end, everyday with Gavin is a challenge and a constant balancing act on the head of a pin. Not a moment goes by that I don't pray for the patience and guidance to help Gavin navigate a society that he is unable to understand. A society that is, for the most part, unwilling or unable to understand him.
Elliott Richard is our first preemie miracle. Born at 36 weeks gestation, he was practically perfect in everyway except for those pesky lungs. He was born with Premature Lung Disease, which partnered with other complications caused him to spend his first 10 days in the NICU. He's now a happy, healthy 3 year old "terrorist" who refuses to potty train. He's sweet, compassionate, afffectionate and silly. His clear blue eyes and curly hair help him to get away with far more trouble than he should. He loves Lightning McQueen, Hot Wheels cars and asking questions. He's always willing to be a "super helper", unless of course he isn't. He is an amazing big brother and does his best to take good care of both his brothers. Although he's often confused and believes that he is the oldest of the three. He loves pizza, hates jo-jo potatoes, loves tubbies, hates bed time and will ask one question after another after another to try and stay awake. He loves to talk, just like his mother. He is a perfectionist when it comes to certain things and incredibly laid back when it comes to other things - like the state of his room.
Mr. Emmett John is the baby of the family. He's my other preemie miracle, born at 36 weeks after many months of preterm labor. He managed to avoid the NICU only to return to the Peds Unit at 2 months with sleep apnea and then again at 11 months with dehydration. Now he's a year old and one by one slowly over-coming his health issues. He loves to eat! He's got a mischievous grin that he uses for trouble-making and
general exploring mayhem. Then he has a beautiful grin that takes up his whole face and crinkles his eyes. He has a very curious personality and a selective sense of humor, which have already started to get him into quite a bit of trouble. There's no baby-gate that can hold him. No barracade that can keep him in (or out for that matter). When he sets his mind to something, look out world! He doesn't talk yet but you can tell he's taking everything in, which scares me a little. He's working on walking and would probably be taking off already, if Elliott Richard weren't so over-protective. His favorite toys are Daddy and Maggie Sue. He's picky about his sippy cups. Loves Blues Clues and being sung to - no matter what the tune. What can I say, it's tough being the baby.
Maggie Sue is my beautiful, energetic American Bulldog/Boxer mix. She looks so fierce that her name is a little play on words. We named her Maggie after the children's cartoon "Maggie & the Ferocious Beast". She loves peanut butter, snuggling, playing tug-of-war, doing tricks, her family and especially "her" babies. She loves the boys as if they were her own puppies. She cares for them and is so very careful with them. It's amazing. When they cry, she's right there checking them out. If there is noise outside, she checks it out. No one is harming "her" babies on her watch! She weighs 60lb but seems to believe she's a lap dog. When she decides it's time to snuggle, it's time to snuggle, by force (very gentle force but force nonetheless), if neccessary. As my Fibromyalgia has gotten worse she's become my comfort. Every night she climbs up on the couch next to me and lays half on my lap, very gently. It's almost as if she's trying to absorb my pain and stress; God bless her. She's never turned down a ride in the car - even to go to the vet. At night she isn't content unless she is sleeping on the foot of our bed...under the covers and most of the time entangled in our legs.
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